The Fog Always Lifts

March is over.

Thank goodness.

I don't know what causes it - the stars, the ides, my luck - but March has been a historically difficult month for me. Some years it's sickness. One year brought a miscarriage, two other years it was the month miscarried babies were to be born. Still a different year, my grandfather, in the early stages of dementia, disappeared. He was found a week later in our neighboring state, disoriented and looking for home. His car was drivable, but a wreck. Where had he been?

I feel a bit like that car after last month. I'm still in working order, but it's hard to say where I've been. My pen stopped writing. I felt heavy. There were far too many moments that I felt like jumping in the car, blasting my Lumineers playlist, and getting lost.

But it's April now, and it's going to be alright.

It's normal to feel like this occasionally. It happens to everyone. Studies show that the gifted may be affected by depression to a higher degree due to our heightened responses to emotions.

This particular round brought a suitcase full of negative self-talk.

"You can't do this."
"Why are you trying? You're doing an awful job."
"You have let this happen."
"Look what _____ is doing. Why can't you do that?"
"Why did you say that? You sound so stupid."
And a whole course of other unkind words.

I am a naturally optimistic person. Where others see a problem or pathology, I usually find the hope and the benefits of the situation. But sometimes the pessimism creeps in like a weed and becomes a struggle to uproot.

image: Hammonton Photography

So what to do?

1. Self-Affirmation, or Be Your Best Friend.

When I counsel teens, I often mention self-affirmation. I say, "Look in the mirror. Tell yourself three positive things about you. Do it every day. Soon, you'll mean it, and it won't be difficult to think of them anymore."

Have I been doing this myself? No. Instead, I've been berating myself in my head for what I have and haven't done, for what my kids are and aren't doing, for how I sounded on that phone call, for how my jeans fit...and on and on.

I have to be my own best friend. If I wouldn't say it to my best friend, I shouldn't say it to myself.

2. Reach Out. Talk to a Someone, or Write it Down.

Tell a friend how you are feeling. Talk to a loved one. If that seems insurmountable, get a journal. Write a letter that describes how you feel, maybe several. Describe the hopelessness. Ask yourself what life feels like when you are not in this place, and how you will know when it’s getting better.

Just mentioning how I was feeling to a friend, without detail, but acknowledging it, was the first step in managing my feelings. The cloud I was was under lost a bit of its force, and I was able to write about it to myself in detail.

3. Get Outside. Get Some Exercise.

Sunlight and fresh air does wonders for the mental state. It's spring now. Taking a quiet walk, noticing the budding leaves and flowers brings me some new perspective. If you are a runner who has been languishing through the colder months, put those running shoes back on and clear your head. Kara at Quill and Camera recommended this 7 minute workout app for those with limited time, and it looks great.

I've started jogging in the morning or doing yoga. Both get my endorphins going and I feel the effects for the whole day.

4. Do Something Nice for Yourself. 

Buy yourself some bright flowers. Make something pretty. Give yourself a few moments to sit in silence and breathe. Get that book you've been meaning to read.

I just bought a new spring dress, and I plan to wear it and walk in sunshine and tell myself happy things.

5. Practice Mindfulness.
You hear that so often these days that it sounds like just another buzzword. Why is it important?. It's easy to get so caught up in just surviving that we forget to stop and notice how we feel right now.

I find my most peaceful moments with my youngest, once her unending energy has calmed and she is asleep. I snuggle up and breathe deeply with her. I visualize all of my stresses seeping out of me and out of her window because they are simply not allowed in her room.

Concentrate less on how you felt yesterday, or might feel tomorrow. Be present in today.


It feels as though I am alone during these melancholy days, but I know I'm not. I'd love you to comment and tell me how you get through the more difficult times!

image: Indy Kethdy
Haiku: Tyler Knott Gregson

Resources:

The Benefits of Mindfulness and Meditation (Left Brain Buddha)

Depressive Disorder in Highly Gifted Adolescents (SENG)

Exercising When You're Depressed

Self-help Strategies for Depression

The Psychology of Change: Self Affirmation and Social Psychological Intervention (Stanford)

6 Practical and Powerful Ways to Overcome Depression

{GHF Blog Hop} Parenting and OE's: Is Sensitivity Your Child's Super Power?

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Our house is bouncing constantly with overexcitability. If you are unfamiliar with that term,

"Overexcitabilities (OEs) are inborn, heightened abilities to receive and respond to stimuli. They are expressed in increased sensitivity, awareness, and intensity. Each form of overexcitability points to a higher than average sensitivity of its receptors. As a result a person endowed with different forms of overexcitability reacts with surprise, puzzlement to many things, he collides with things, persons, and events which in turn brings him astonishment and disquietude." (Dabrowski, 1964)

There are five types of overexcitabilities: emotional, psychomotor, intellectual, sensual, and imaginational. On a regular basis, the members of the family alternate between high levels of emotion, the need to move, and a desire to learn and do everything as often as possible. We each have various levels of sensory comfort and discomfort, and there is no shortage of imagination.

It can make life interesting.

For this post, I am going to focus on the emotional overexcitability, which is most likely my strongest of the OE's, and we all enjoy a healthy dose of it.  

image: JD Hancock, text added by TSL

I have a tendency to take on others' emotions and react accordingly. I can't watch or read the news on particularly bad months. I feel the responsibility to make the world a better place, and my heart aches when I am unable to do so.

I cannot make it through an airport without tearing up. It's a family joke at this point - but the soldiers in uniform meeting their families, the mother with two small children holding handmade "Welcome home, Daddy" signs, and the father nervously putting his 8 year old daughter on the plane by herself, wiping away a tear as the gate closes, send my emotions into hyper-drive.  

I am a big, sappy dork, and the more I accept it, the more pronounced it gets.

*  *  *  *  *

B's emotional OE often comes in the form of a desire for social justice. She has a sense of urgency and action, rather than tears, when it comes to those who need help. She zeroes in on the homeless, the animals, the families in need. She is unselfish and willing to do whatever needs done. She is extremely environmentally conscious and cannot fathom why we don't all drive electric cars and use solar and wind power as much as possible already.

Her relationships with family members become volatile quickly. She flies into a rage, she defends with abandon, she loves with her whole heart and soul. She views herself more like a twelve or thirteen year old might, worrying about the blemishes on her face, what she is wearing in public, and how other people will see her.

She is intense. The asynchronies involved make emotions even more complicated, as she feels and thinks like an early teen, but reacts like the six year old she is.

*  *  *  *  *

C is our lover. She is one of the most empathetic children I have known. From a very young age, she would act out in response to my emotions. It took a few years to discover this was the impetus behind her behaviors, and now I refer to her as my emotional barometer.  It can be exhausting, as my bad day becomes her very bad day. We are both learning to adjust to each other. 

C dislikes most movies, especially movies that have a component of bullying, unkind/unfair behavior, or too many bad guys. She can assess when she has a lot of emotion boiling up inside and will ask to watch Spirit (a 2002 Disney movie about a stallion that leads his herd across the frontiers and meets many challenges), so she can "cry [her] sadness out." I don't know if I will ever become accustomed to the depth of her emotional understanding.

Her mood swings are hurricanes, but the cycle is becoming predictable. She begins with the quick and violent fury, followed by the passionate cry, then comes the hysterical laughter, and finally the apologetic hugs. She is learning her cycle as well, and I am hoping that with maturity, she will be able to fine tune it.

Both girls have a strong memory for feelings, and expect deep friendship among those they meet. They remember children's names months after chance encounters at a random playland or the park. They form quick attachments to children of all ages, and are heartbroken when these fleeting acquaintances do not want to expand their friendships. B is overjoyed to begin working with the 8-12 year old group at gymnastics, with whom she fits in much more easily than her previous class. At just barely four, C's best interactions are with the eight year old boy she plays video games with at the gym while I watch her sister's class. But, again, asynchronies make these relationships unpredictable when emotions begin to overwhelm.

*  *  *  *  *

So, how does our family function with this circus of emotional intensity? How does my logic-embracing husband handle all of us?

I keep a favorite quote on my refrigerator from Corin Goodwin, and read it often.

 "The times when kids need your love most may be the times when they behave in the most unloving ways. Try to understand what is happening in their heads and their hearts, and address that first."

Empathy and understanding are our foundations. We do our best to meet our children in their moment and support them.  I have adjusted my strategy from a "how can I fix this?" perspective to a "how can I help you right now?" perspective. This approach gives my girls ownership of their intensity, and validates their feelings. They do not want advice or distractions.  They want me to appreciate their sensitivity and let them express it.

We discuss our feelings a lot, and the girls are becoming more self-aware. We use "I feel" statements, and "You feel/you need...am I understanding correctly?" questions.  Yoga is helpful for regulating all of us, and playing outside together clears the mind. We embrace the ecstatically happy moments and hold on tighter during the soul-wrenching sad times. 

More than anything, we accept each other, overexcited emotions and all.  I hope with age and maturity, the girls will find that this abundance of intuition and feeling is a super power. Emotional overexcitability opens your eyes and heart to a glimpse of the world that most people never get to experience, and I am grateful for my view.

This has been successful for our family. What works for yours? Please let me know in the comments.

This blog post is part of the December GHF Blog Hop - Parenting OEs, 2Es, and Everything in Between. Check out the other talented bloggers insights on parenting gifted children here!

Resources:

Overexcitability and the Highly Gifted Child from Davidson Institute for Talent Development

Sensitivity in Gifted Children from Ian Byrd

Emotional Sensitivities from Gifted Kids Ireland

Parenting Emotionally Intense Children from Talent Development Resources  - (this article discusses how it feels to live in a society that does not value feelings - great perspectives!)


References:

Dabrowski, K. (1964). Positive disintegration. London: Little, Brown & Co. (Out of print).

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.

{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?

Meltdown City

image: tiffany terry

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C has crazy, scary, unpredictable meltdowns. It usually begins with something I say innocuously.

"Please take off your paint shirt before you go in the living room."

Or something she does, or something that happens. Something I would never imagine would set off the cycle...

 "I can't button my pants!"

"My raisin fell on the floor!"

"I can't reach that!"

"You put my syrup on top of my pancake instead of beside!"

...turn into yelling, angry face, awful words, hysterical crying, "please hold me, Mama, don't go, just hold me", tears streaming, turning into hysterical laughter and the exhausted calm and the "I'm so sorry, Mama. I was just so angry."

We've tried deep breathing. We've discussed that all problems have solutions, if you can stay calm long enough to figure it out. It's that "stay calm long enough" part that tends to be an issue. 

She isn't a spoiled kid, in fact, she is a wonderful, kind, empathetic girl. She doesn't like to freak out. It exhausts her. She even knows she needs some self-regulation and asks to do yoga after she regains her sanity. (Thank you CosmicKids Yoga on YouTube. You are a necessity in this house.) I know that with time and maturity, (hopefully) she will improve her ability to manage her emotions.

Prior to staying home with the girls, I was an early childhood specialist, doling out advice to frustrated parents who didn't know how to deal with their child's out of control behavior.

 "He's doing that for attention. Just let him cry it out in his room. It may take some time. He is in control of you when you let his throw the fit in front of everyone. Remove him from the situation."

I see now that despite the training and education I was drawing from, I had no idea what I was talking about. I want to go back and apologize to all of those parents. I had at that point so far only dealt with a very compliant 4 year old of typical fit-throwing abilities, and a classroom full of special needs preschoolers who spent just 3 hours of their day with me. I feel as though teachers often are absorbed into their bubble of time and space, and although what they (we) do is very important, we forget that we see our children but a fraction of their lives, and really can't get the whole picture of what is going on with these kiddos. In my own circumstance, I can look back and see that although I felt like I knew these children inside and out, I knew just a small piece about them, and most likely not enough to venture into advice territory. Perhaps just active listening and compassion would have been a better choice. But alas...that was another lifetime ago.

For a long time, I just felt like an awful mother during C's meltdowns. It was so frustrating, and time consuming, not to mention trying to keep a schedule and get anywhere on time is next to impossible when you don't know when the hurricane is about to hit. I practiced my own advice, and found that tossing her in a room by herself only made things worse (as I had cautioned other parents that it would) but instead of eventually calming down, she would just become emotionally frantic. Threatening consequences, bribing with rewards, throwing my own fit...there was no solution and mainly made things worse.

My philosophies have grown and changed since my teaching days. I keep a quote from GHF on my refrigerator now, "The times when kids need your love most may be the times when they behave in the most unloving ways. Try to understand what is happening in their heads and their hearts and address that first." I re-read it frequently.

 The Explosive Child, by Ross Greene is the most helpful book about parenting that I have read in awhile. It gave me some answers, some strategies, and gave me hope that I am not the world's worst parent. The Highly Sensitive Child, by Elaine Aron was encouraging as well, and helped me understand both of my little girls more completely.  I've learned that the most helpful thing I can do for C is weather the storm. hold her when she needs me to, and let her be. Sit on her bed, or lay beside her or hold her hand until she is able to calm down. Let her know that I support her when her emotions become too much, and improve my patience with her during the challenging times.

There are good days, and bad days, and there are just age-typical "I want my own way" days, which are an animal of their own requiring their own response. At the end of the day, though, I make it a point to have the girls find one or two of the best things about the day, and finish it on a positive note, concentrating on the happy moments and proud moments rather than the difficult ones.

Because as Roald Dahl wrote..." if you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely.”