{GHF Blog Hop} Five Tips for Raising Your Gifted Grown-Up

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Raising your gifted grown-up comes with its unique set of challenges. Sure, it is fantastic to be raised by someone who understands why the line across the toe of your socks drives you into a frantic tailspin, but these grown-ups take time and patience to handle. I have put together a list of a few things you can do to keep that gifted mom/dad's meltdowns to a minimum, and help them "meet their potential", as we hear them say in conversation. *

1. Food. Your gifted grown-up needs healthy snacks and meals every 2-3 hours. It is important to pay attention and be sure that they are not just finishing the snacks and meals that you decided you no longer liked or wanted to eat. Grown-ups are tricky, and will tell you that they don't feel like making another snack because they have just spent 15 minutes in the kitchen paying close attention that the peanut butter on your celery is applied with the correct peanut butter to celery ratio, and the celery strings have all been removed. If your gifted grown-up does not eat their very own snack, you will notice a quick decline in their behavior, perhaps presented in the form of short-tempered responses followed by apologies. If your grown-up continues to decline food after your generous offers, get a big scoop of that peanut butter on a spoon, and bring it to them with your best puppy-dog eyes. Tell them you just want what is best for them. Who can resist that?

2. Exercise. Your gifted grown-up needs to move. He/she builds up a great deal of energy throughout the day, and may even have psychomotor overexcitabilities. If you notice that your mom is fidgeting a lot while you are explaining to her why you have been considering that the moon has a core, and based on the recent evidence of Europa's tectonic activity, you feel that you are on the right track, and will she please help you find some more information about this, she may need to do some jumping jacks while you talk, chew a piece of gum, or play with a stress ball. She wants to pay attention, but occasionally her mind wanders and her inner engine revs up and needs a release. It might help to encourage her to go for a run in the morning, or do some yoga in order to get some of that energy out before you expect her full attention for the day.

3. Brain Food. Your gifted grown-up requires a great deal of intellectual stimulation. Stacks and stacks of it. Take numerous trips to the library. Ask lots of questions, preferably questions that your grown-up has not considered before, or in a subject area that he is not well-versed. This will give your gifted grown-up motivation to do some research.  Your gifted grown-up has his own interests, too, and often forgets to pursue them. Watch for answers to grow shorter, eyes to grow a bit dull, and a smile that looks forced. These are signs of brain food shortage, and can be remedied by reminding him to do something that he enjoys and feeds his need for knowledge. Provide some quiet time for him so he can focus on writing, researching, or another favorite brain past-time.

...which bring me to my next tip.

4. Quiet time. Gifted grown-ups need time to recharge. Consider the morning that you and your sister were busy creating an awesome 5-pot band, complete with a harmonica, your baby brother would not let Mom put him down, and the road construction crew had been repairing your block. Mom's sensual overexcitability was probably on overload. If she didn't have a melt-down, it was probably a few precious threads away from happening. Send your gifted grown-up to a quiet place daily. Tell her that it is really, truly okay to take some time for herself in a calm, peaceful room. She needs to reboot, or someone may just get the boot. While she is having her quiet time, you and your siblings should also find something quiet to do, like rearrange the kitchen for her, or see how high you can stack every book from the shelf in the living room. But remember, keep it quiet. She needs some peace.

5. Grown-Up Friends. Your gifted grown-up will tell you that she has plenty of friends and adult interaction. It's most likely not true. Adults need other adults to talk to, whether they are virtual or in-person friends. Yours may be an introvert who prefers one or two select people, and finds group interactions and office parties exhausting. He may not have found his person yet. Gifted grown-ups frequently have a difficult time finding others with whom they "fit in". If your gifted grown-up fits this description, there are several on-line forums and groups that have the potential of showing your gifted grown-up that they are not alone, are not crazy, and do have a "tribe" somewhere. Encourage them to find these other special adults, and make some connections.

Most importantly, encourage your gifted grown-up. It is a glorious thing to have a mind like theirs, but from time to time they get bogged down in the difficulties and forget. Remind them that they are unique and get to experience the world in a way that most others do not. Give them a hug on the bad days. With your help, your gifted grown-up will flourish.

*This is, of course, a parody of the commonly seen blog posts entitled "10 ways To Motivate Your Gifted Child" or "5 Ways to Help Your Gifted Child Meet Their Potential". Humor aside, all of these areas are important to maintain sanity. Take care of yourself, gifted grown-ups. We are a complicated bunch, and without the proper attention to our needs, life can get difficult.

For more resources/support for gifted adults, follow these links:

Gifted Homeschoolers Online Forum, from GiftedHomeschoolers.org

Gifted Adults Page, from HoagiesGifted.org

Can You Hear the Flowers Sing? from SENG.org

(This article is one of my personal favorites.)

Paula Prober's amazing blog for gifted adults, Your Rainforest Mind

* * * * *

This blog post is part of the GHF October Blog Hop on Gifted Adults. I'm on my way to read the many insightful posts about being a gifted adult here. I hope you read them too!

Photo Credits:
Lunchbox: https://www.flickr.com/photos/buzzymelibee/8479667351/in/faves-123234002@N02/
Yoga Pose: https://www.flickr.com/photos/allmothers/4419851632/in/faves-123234002@N02/
Books: https://www.flickr.com/photos/cogdog/8139757998/in/faves-123234002@N02/

Library Card Blues

If I need to find B, she is usually sitting on the floor, immersed in her book.

She is the type of child who cannot walk past a book without sitting down to read it. Our living room, her bedroom floor, her bed...all covered in books that she is in various stages of reading.

I was the same way as a child, and the only reason this description does not continue to apply to me is that I made myself put down the book to do silly things like vacuuming and making dinner and reading a book to C, who prefers to be read to at age 3. I see her heading down the same path,  as she will sit and look at books for an hour, and her bed is just as covered with them as her sister's. If I had my way, I would sit on the couch and read beside them all day. Sometimes I do.

The librarians at our main library know us well, and rarely give us issues with the amount of books we take home. They know we will be back in a week to exchange them for more. We have been frequenting the smaller library in our town for convenience sake the past few weeks, and they are not as familiar with our habits. We were preparing for our weekly trip, and I checked our library account to see the list of the books we had checked out, in order to round them up and turn them in. I entered B's library card number.

USER BARRED. 

I chuckled to myself at the thought. She was 13 books over her 20 book limit, and had been barred for the second time at six years old. Not many children I know have that distinction.

I knew that she would not find this as amusing as I did, and it would most likely cause a serious issue if I did not resolve this before our next library trip. Later in the day, I turned in most of our books and picked up some new ones while she was at gymnastics, and spoke with the staff about her account. They set her card free again and all was well.

In the evening, as she sat among her new pile of reading material, I began to tell her the story. In my perception, it was a humorous tale, a testament to her extraordinary reading powers and a badge of honor to wear proudly. "I was banned by the library at age six for reading too much", she could someday say with pride.

Photo credit: UTS Library, NSW

Unfortunately, I only got to about sentence three of the story, the one in which I said that she was barred from using her library card, and she collapsed in a hysterical heap of tears and anguish.

"No, no, no, sweetie! Please don't cry! There is more to the story! It's all fixed - your card is fine. You can check out all the books you want! You can use my card, and C's card too, and all together that's 60 books that you can take home! It's okay, all fixed, please don't cry!!"

Ten messy, tearful minutes later, she had calmed down, gathered all the books she could balance in her small arms, held them protectively to her chest and went to her room. She did not find me or my story charming, and grudgingly accepted my apologies as she walked away.

Lesson learned. Tell the end of the story first, even if it ruins the suspense, and never, ever get between that girl and her library card.

Stop Thinking. Start Doing.

I recently participated in a call hosted by Sara Yamtich and Jade Rivera on "multipotentiality" a.k.a. being interested in and wanting to go multiple directions with your life and how to make that happen.

I spent a good fifteen years of my life fitting myself into a little box, shrinking who I am to a minimum, ignoring hopes and dreams. I realized a few years ago that I don't have to feel trapped in circumstance anymore.

I have found many treasures that I love and want to use, now that I have "unpacked the box", so to speak, but it is difficult to remember how. I have also found that letting my emotions roam freely can be overwhelming and exhausting, and I struggle with how to manage them wisely.

A moment in the call particularly spoke to me - Jade discussed satisfying three things every day to keep herself in a state of peace: one for the mind, one for the heart, one for the body.

That sounds like an excellent starting point for me.

I  have responsibilities, and homeschooling two gifted girls is very time consuming, but I know I can do three things daily for myself.

So, what's my plan?

image: flickr

For my body - I began running in April. I am not a very athletic person, but one day, I had just had enough of everything, and needed 15 minutes to myself. I downloaded the Couch25k app, and got on the treadmill. Within a month, I felt motivated to run often, and I began running outside, which improved the experience further.

It's a soothing habit now. I run 1.5 miles 3-4 times weekly. It adds an element of  peace and nature and endorphins to my routine. It's healthy for my whole self.

For my mind - I am enrolled in a Coursera class - Modern and Contemporary Poetry from Penn State. I adore poetry and much of the material for the class will be new to me.  I enroll classes often, but I rarely participate. I will make it a priority to engage in this class, and pamper my brain, rather than watch another Grey's Anatomy on Netflix.☺

So far, I have taken 15-20 minutes in my day to watch the lectures and read the selected poems. B has been watching the lectures with me, and perhaps she will learn to love Emily Dickinson as much as I do.

For my heart - I need to help, to give. I tend to go all-out and give until I have nothing left for those who are most important to me, and then I come to an abrupt halt.

I volunteered at our local food bank/food center for a time, in the kids' reading room. I read with children who came with their families for their one hot meal of the day, helped with homework, and played with the little ones. My emotional OE went into overdrive and I could not stop thinking about the children and their lives. I wanted to take them all home, feed them all, love them all. I would break down thinking of them during the day, and I dreamt of it at night. My family suffered in the mean time, and I had to force myself to admit that it was too much for me. (In my head, this still sounds horribly selfish - my emotions were too much? Their lives are too much.)

I had to accept my limitations, however selfish it made me feel.  I don't know that I am able to turn my emotions to a lower gear, so I need to involve myself in productive endeavors that will satisfy but not consume me. My goal in this area is to give daily, in ways that are more sustainable for the long-term me. For now, I will engage in random acts of kindness, and look for small but meaningful ways to help in my community.


At the beginning of the call, Sara emphasized that "clarity comes from doing, not thinking", and that is is just fine to be and do more than one thing. It sounds so simple when I write it.

Stop thinking. Start doing.

image: flickr

Balancing Act

So many of my days, I have too much - too much that I want to do, too many thoughts in my head, too many things that I feel that I will never get to.

I make my lists and my to do's, short term and long term. I schedule my weeks so I can pencil in a time to get to these things. I remember my goals and tell myself to take my baby steps toward them. Then, my indecisiveness kicks in.

Look for volunteer opportunities - should I work with kids? Teens? Adults?

Find the right grad program - should I choose counseling or social work?
Register for a class - but do I have more interest in painting, or photography, or learning the ecology of my region? 

I need to get out of the house. Make a choice. Change the world. I can do this. 

And then I become paralyzed by  - what? I don't know. The fear of failure? The guilt of taking time away from my kids to do something for myself for once? My lack of reliable babysitters?

This I do know: I want, NEED, to be more than a mom and housewife. I am good at many things, interested in countless topics, and have future career hopes and dreams. It's difficult to balance all of my desires along with all of the have-to's and need-to's. But honestly, I have to figure it out, otherwise I am afraid that some day I will end up angry or resentful or both, and my family is far too wonderful and supportive to put the blame on, when I know who is holding me back. Me.

As Sara Yamtich puts it, "There are so many ways that you could contribute to the world. And you’d probably be pretty darn sufficient at most of them. This is the fate of the multipotentialite."

It's just difficult to choose which one, and where to fit it into to my crazy life. 

Do you ever feel like this too?

On September 8, at 4pm PST, (7pm EST), I am going to be joining a community call hosted by Sara Yamtich and Jade Rivera, to discuss how we can accept, celebrate, and harness our multipotentiality. 

I encourage you to read Sara's blog and feel inspired and motivated, and then sign up for the call. From personal experience, after speaking with Sara for an hour, I felt like anything was possible, and that all I needed to do was to take the first steps to make it happen.

Jade is full of compassion and wisdom, her blog has helped me understand myself and my children better, and she has become a good friend. I am looking forward to speaking with these intelligent ladies, and others that are possibly in a rut like me, or have made it out of the rut, and have words of wisdom and support.

 Hope to "meet" you then!

The Days of Disconnect

I like to call it his bi-monthly angst. He mopes around the house and questions his choices, his career. Feels like all is fruitless, doesn't matter. Wants to change the world, but feels like he will never change the world. I wait it out, fight my own descent into it. I am an optimist. I will not be taken down by the sink.

But then, it catches me, completely unawares.

What? I don't do this. I am not depressed. This is not my thing.

The first day, I just feel antsy, full, like there is something inside me that needs to break out. I am restless around the house. Tired of cleaning, tired of laundry. I run 2 fast miles, but it's not enough. I do some research. I read a book. I plan an outline for a class I could teach this fall. I want to teach my children, play with them, but they are wrapped in a lovely imaginary world together that requires no facilitation on my part. I am just an interruption.

I feel stagnant. My house is stuffy. I am stuffy. I am not progressing the way I would like to. I have all of this frantic energy and it is tiring. Time, money, guilt, fear of failure, all keeping me in this room. Do I need sunshine? More friends? Am I lonely? Most of my connections are online, and on days like this, they feel like imaginary friends. My computer is quiet and doesn't drink coffee or wine, or make me laugh...

By the end of this day, I am unhappy with everyone. I don't really notice, but they do.

The next day, I wake up in the "depths of despair", as my dear Anne Shirley would say. I make myself get out of bed, drink my coffee, try to write a little, but mostly just stare at the screen.

My thoughts swirl around me while the rest of my household sleeps in peace.

What am I doing with my life? I should go back to school, get the degree I set out to get in the first place. The resources are 10 minutes away, but the money has been spent...I owe debts for a job that I no longer hold, to pay for a degree I don't want to use anymore. Am I doing the right thing, staying home with my children, letting them explore the world? Should I be teaching them more structure, using more curriculum? Are they going to end up in their teens having learned nothing about discipline and perseverance, because their mother didn't push them hard enough? I want to change the world...I will never change the world. I need a good cry.  

The air this morning is suffocating, closing in around me. I feel disconnected.


The kids wake up. I struggle to get them breakfast. C, my three year old emotional barometer, begins to act up. She is defiant, pulling at my clothes, hurting me, refusing to comply with anything. My frustration rises and I lose my temper. I hold her and try not to cry and apologize. She takes my face in her hands and looks into my eyes with understanding. She is once again feeling, reading, responding to my emotions. She is acting out my defiance, my pain, my frustration. We sit and snuggle for awhile and both feel better.

I have to find my happy face, or it is going to be a difficult day for everyone.

I wait for it to pass. I hope I am not just burying it further, to grow stronger roots.

I remember reading a beautiful description of self-portrait color therapy by The Younger Mrs. Ward, and decide to give it a try. I am not able to be all alone while I color as she advises, but my girls get out their paints and we all create together. It's nice. I begin as suggested, with a face profile, and make random shapes from there. I don't choose my colors in advance; I use what strikes me. My daughters admire my art while I again push back the tears.

When I am finished, however, I feel remarkably better. The fog is beginning to lift. I smile for what feels like the first time in two days while the girls show me their artwork.

We play together and I look at my picture every now and then. My husband returns from his job. The girls show them their "work" from the day. He looks at the bulletin board and asks them about my picture, which conveys more than I intended. "Who made this sad lady? It looks like she is crying an ocean of black tears. I hope she gets to that green part soon; it looks peaceful."

 
Me too.

My children continue to react to my emotional state...all of these sensitive souls bouncing off one another. B is disrespectful and angry. C is sad and clingy. I end up asking my husband to put them to bed, instead of following our usual bedtime routine. I feel guilty, neglectful.

I wake up a few long days later and stay in bed. I keep my eyes closed and assess how I am feeling from head to toe. I think I am better. I lay completely still until I am sure that I feel better than yesterday. I get some coffee. I don't check email or look at my computer at all. I just sit, and drink the coffee, and think. I go for a run, but run more slowly, paying attention to the trees and mountains and lovely views in my neighborhood. I eat breakfast. I sit in quiet and do nothing. I take a hot shower. I cautiously approach my day. I look at the picture I drew a few days before, and don't feel as connected to it. I give in to the temptation to turn on the computer, and spend some time reading articles from Sarah at Left Brain Buddha, whose blog always gives me something to think about. I bookmark some mindfulness activities.

The kids and I have a good day. My husband checks in on me and acknowledges that I sound much better. The hopelessness has lessened. I start making plans, researching options, clean up the house. It's sunny outside. We share happy hugs and have fun. The storm has passed for now.



To learn more about existential depression and giftedness...

Existential Depression in Gifted Individuals

Gifted Sensitive, in Need of Meaning: Existential Depression

Dabrowski's Theory and Existential Depression in Gifted Children and Adults

What is Existential Depression?

{GHF Blog Hop} Waiting for "Ready"

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flickr

I bought B a new tooth brush. I put it in her bathroom, removed the old one, and went on with my day.

That evening, right around tooth-brushing time, there came a shriek from the bathroom.

"Where is my pink tooth brush? Whose is this red one? Where is mine?"

Followed by a five minute semi-heated discussion on the state of her pink toothbrush, the need for a new one and the strong resistance of a stubborn 6 year old.

Finally, I asked myself, "Is it really worth all of this nonsense?", took the toothbrush from the (thankfully) top of the trash can, cleaned it and gave it back to her.

Peace and clean teeth for all.

I left the new brush in the toothbrush basket, though, just in case.

About two weeks later, B found me, and told me proudly, "Mom, I was finally ready for my new toothbrush! I have been practicing with it, and I am ready to throw my pink one away."

Then she did.

She and I have talked about writing to a pen pal. The parents in one of my favorite facebook groups set up a pen pal list, and I encouraged her to participate.

"You could write to someone who is interested in the same things that you are. You could make a friend in another part of the country, or another country altogether!"

She declined. I though perhaps she didn't want to do the work of writing, or she didn't like it because it was my idea. Finally, she sighed and told me, "Mom. I am just not ready for a pen pal."

About a month later, without any assistance from me, she became pen pals with our next door neighbor, a very nice woman who loves kids. They have been writing what B calls "beautiful letters" to each other weekly.  I asked her about it, and she shrugged nonchalantly and replied, "I was just ready."

She rides her bicycle with the training wheels on. We can tell that she is capable of riding independently. She doesn't feel quite equipped for that step yet. My husband took the trainers off, hoping to force the change...instead she refused to touch the bike for two months until I convinced him to put them back on.  I am confident that she will follow her usual pattern. When she feels confident about it, she will do it, and do it well. Not on our time frame, but on hers. She'll probably take the training wheels off by herself, since she is already better with tools than I am, and I will join her for a bike ride and notice half way through the ride that they are gone.  It's the way she is.

The unknown can be difficult for any kid.  Waiting for your child to adapt to change, or try something new can be difficult for parents. The issue seems like no big deal, you can do this, why is this such a problem? Emotional overexcitability may exacerbate the situation, perhaps for the child and the parent.

So, what do you do?  I am learning to be patient, and to remember that adapting to something new is a process, not a two-second flip of the switch. I plan ahead and move gradually with the toothbrush swap, out-grown clothes removal, and rearranging the house. I give verbal notice in advance when possible. The older two are getting better at revving up their adjustment speed, and understanding that sometimes, they just have to. It's uncomfortable and unfortunate, but occasionally, it just can't be helped. Life is unpredictable, after all.

I am listening when my children tell me that they are not ready, and trusting that they know themselves better than I do. When they feel emotionally and physically equipped for the task at hand, they will accomplish it fantastically, without my prompting or intervention. It's a difficult business to sit back and wait for it to happen. But, I've never seen a mama butterfly hovering over a chrysalis to make sure the caterpillar knows what it's doing, and does it at the right time. The caterpillar senses the right timing, and the result is phenomenal.

It's a beautiful thing to watch happen.

This blog post is part of the GHF July 2014 Blog Hop. Be sure to visit these other insightful bloggers' posts on Gifted Parenting!

...A Bushel and a Peck, and a Hug Around the Neck

Months ago, B was in the throes of a terrible fit. I was out of answers, out of patience. I told her that I just didn't know what to do with her to get her to behave, and asked her how I could help her to stop.

Tears running down her face, she choked, "hug me."

Thus, what our family refers to as "hug therapy" began.

It isn't a hold-you-down-so-you-don't-break-anything hug, or a get-along-t-shirt style hug. It is a genuine hug, full of love and compassion.

When the girls are edging quickly toward a poor choice, or not listening well, or boiling over into a fit...I give them a hug. When I am at my wits' end, about to venture into the bad parenting zone, I get a hug too.

Feelings get out of control. Emotions build and grow until they explode like a scary, ugly monster. Sometimes, "frustration" becomes an understatement.

During times like this, I take my volcano-girl and envelope her in my arms, let her climb into my lap, and hug her. Some moments, my hug is fiercely returned. Other times, it is fought against. My hug then becomes a loose hug, an "I'm here when you are ready" hug.

image: flickr

B is learning to realize when she is getting out of control, and will growl in the angriest of voices, "I need a hug." Under the growl, is a sad, angry five year old who knows her emotions have escalated too far, but hasn't yet learned how to bring them back down.

The hug is is not a "get out of jail free" card, by any means. It is a moment to pull emotions out of overdrive, and back to a place in which they can be handled more appropriately. A silent reminder that I love and will encourage my girls no matter what they do. Once the crying and flailing have ceased, we revisit the source of the problem and figure out a resolution.

My littlest one often cannot stand a hug; the physical contact would be too much in the high-sensory moment. Sometimes, she simply isn't ready to let go of her fit and fury and find a less tempered spot.  In that circumstance, I give her a quick, loose hug, or just sit beside her, hoping I can express the same love and compassion, without the physical touch. Slowly, though, she is beginning to ask for a hug before she gets to "high alert".

I am not perfect, and dealing with intense emotions day in and day out can wear on me. During some particularly difficult weeks, I feel as though I do not have one more moment of patience left to give. My temperature rises and I launch into the equivalent of a mom fit. As I begin to fume, however, a little 44-inch tall figure tells me, "Mom. You need a hug." And I do.

Now and then, I behave like C, and fight the hug..."I'd love a hug, but I don't have time right now. At this moment, I just need you and your sister to please go put on your shoes like I asked you to so we are only 5 minutes late instead of 15", I will reply in a strained I'm-about-to-lose-it tone.

"Mom", She tells me firmly, "there is ALWAYS enough time for a hug."

Five year olds can be so wise.

I make time for the hug. I feel better. Somehow, we still make it out the door with 20 seconds to spare.

Shel Silverstein had it figured out, didn't he?

Hug-o-War, Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends

The tantrums have decreased significantly lately. Cooperation has been on high. The kids are improving, too. ;)

It's working for us. What works for you?