Raising two special needs boys forced Jenny Kanevsky to innovate by blending the four traditional parenting styles with her own mix of intention, instinct, and flexibility.
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Being a parent is filled with firsts. The first of a special love: a blinding, heart-swelling, instinctual love I never thought I’d never have, or miss. As I traveled through Italy and South Africa, creating international marketing campaigns, eating antelope stew, drinking Dolcetto in wine cellars beneath centuries old cobblestone streets, I never thought: Someday, I will feel mother love and I won’t miss the sweet aftertaste of Dolcetto on my lips.
And then motherhood; the exhaustion was exponential, it was beyond. It was a new definition of tired.
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It was monumental exhaustion. I thought I knew tired after volleyball tournaments, flailing across the grass, me and one other athlete, in sync as if we were one, winning trophies, suffering the next day from one too many digs, and one too many celebratory Coronas. And then motherhood; the exhaustion was exponential, it was beyond. It was a new definition of tired.
And, it was uncertainty, a clash of instinct and doctrine. I’d faced challenges, studied statistics and finance and learned a foreign vocabulary that became vernacular. I had moved to Italy, learned a new language and explored a new culture. I had survived and thrived. I had felt strength of character and self-awareness. And then, holding my inconsolable baby at 3 a.m., nursing constantly, wondering if I should let a fever play itself out or go to the doctor—it was a deeper and more powerful questioning of my instincts, while feeling them strengthen at the same time.
The pediatrician would ask: “Has he recognized your voice, held his head up, smiled?” And I would wonder did he? Was that smile gas? Is he OK?
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Parenthood is about milestones. The pediatrician would ask: “Has he recognized your voice, held his head up, smiled?” And I would wonder did he? Was that smile gas? Is he OK? And for some parents, I know, the early days of waiting for milestones can be agonizing. Milestones are not met, even with generous—and necessary—time frames. Your baby may not respond to your voice, or roll over, or develop clear hand-eye coordination. Special needs may be apparent at an early age.
My boys reached their milestones, some before others on the timeline, and some after, but within the ranges. Verbally, they were ahead. Because they were both big, mobility was slower—oh, he’s big, larger babies crawl and walk later. It’s a lot of weight to move around. And I thought, tell me about it, and I didn’t worry, at least not all the time.
Every child is different. We hear that all the time, but do we really listen? Do we understand what that means, as parents, as role models, as the most important people in their lives? Every child has changing needs. And parenting is about seeing those and about adjusting.
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My Experience and Transition to Intentional Parenting
Both of my boys have learning disabilities as well as versions of ADD and ADHD. At ages seven and ten, they were diagnosed, although, in hindsight, the red flags waved.
My oldest, now twelve, is exceptionally bright. He read with fluency at an early age and displayed remarkable verbal abilities and fact retention. He was also what progressives call a spirited child. Others used damaging labels such difficult or strong-willed. These children are more intense, sensitive, perceptive, persistent, and uncomfortable with change. And, although challenging as children, they possess traits we highly value in adults.
I had a face palm moment when the doctor told me he had ADD and dysgraphia. ADD is not to be confused with ADHD. That H is for hyperactivity and it’s an important letter. I know this every day, for I have one of each.
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I had a face palm moment when the doctor told me he had ADD and dysgraphia. ADD is not to be confused with ADHD. That H is for hyperactivity and it’s an important letter. I know this every day, for I have one of each.
My oldest stressed about the slightest schedule change, was hypersensitive to texture, noise, touch and was easily over-stimulated. ADD made sense, but dysgraphia explained so much: large loopy letters, using an entire page to write his name, illegible work, and as he got older, paralyzing anxiety around writing assignments.
Dygraphia, the doctor explained, manifests in illegible handwriting, inconsistent spacing, poor spelling, and difficulty composing and thinking at the same time. My gut sunk as I recalled an especially upsetting time when, in second grade—one of his most challenging years—we were working on a poster. I was frustrated by his impulsiveness, his sloppiness, and I let it show. So much so that he shut down. He was doing the best he could with what he had. And, really, aren’t we all?
When he was finally diagnosed, his response was priceless, and such a relief. It made me proud and fall in love with him more and more and more.
“Mom, I don’t feel bad; I’m happy. Now I know why my writing is messy. I thought I was bad. And I get why I need down time. My brain is different. It all makes sense now.”
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“Mom, I don’t feel bad; I’m happy. Now I know why my writing is messy. I thought I was bad. And I get why I need down time. My brain is different. It all makes sense now.”
“Oh, sweetie, you’re not bad,” I said as my heart broke just a little, “You have a learning challenge but there are things we can do to help. And it’s OK to need down time. Everyone is different. You are awesome just as you are.”
Two years later, after occupational therapy and Section 504 accommodations in school including emailing assignments other students handwrite; using graph paper; and using a laptop in class, he is thriving and no longer afraid of writing. He still struggles, while in subjects like math and science he soars, but his handwriting continues to improve and he has coping skills. Sometimes, if he’s particularly stressed, he speaks his writing assignments while I type them. He’s an eloquent writer, when he speaks, and that confidence and practice is translating to the page whether I type, or, more often now, he does.
Behaviorally, he knows when he needs to be alone and to decompress. He has tools he can implement himself, or I help him if I see him start to spiral. For example, he is going through a particularly stressful time. The other day, instead of getting ready for school and meeting me at the car, he shouted from his room:
“I’M NOT GOING!”
While in the past, I might have thought, that’s what you think, or responded with an authoritarian “Oh yes you are, get in the car, now, we’re going to be late,” I sat with him for a minute.
“What’s up?”
“I’ve just been handling things and being so good and staying on schedule; I just don’t want to do any of it today.”
“Do you need a mental health day? Just be home, read, and watch a movie?” “I do.”
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“Do you need a mental health day? Just be home, read, and watch a movie?”
“I do.”
“Any tests or anything major that you will miss?”
“No, Mom. It’s a regular day.”
“OK, you can stay home, but you have to go tomorrow.”
And he healed. He rested, read, and watched a movie. I made him hot cocoa and checked in on him.
“Thanks Mom, I really needed this, you’re awesome.”
From my adult place, as a parent, I realize that my flexibility and listening is more than awesome, it’s teaching him to recognize his needs, to make wise choices, and to trust that he will be heard.
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Of course, my ego likes that. But, from my adult place, as a parent, I realize that my flexibility and listening is more than awesome, it’s teaching him to recognize his needs, to make wise choices, and to trust that he will be heard. He is empowered, but sees there are boundaries.
The next morning he was up, showered and off to school without a peep.
At the same time oldest was diagnosed, my seven year old was found to have dyslexia and ADHD. To my mind, and thanks to an observant teacher, he almost didn’t need testing. His behavior had become overwhelming. A happy, high energy but go-with-the-flow child was short-tempered, angry, socially frustrated, and despondent. He was unable to control his body or his emotions. It was classic ADHD when alarmists were cautioning about over-diagnosis and over-medicating. As his mother though, I knew. Calming him and maintaining stability became a constant struggle, and elusive. And, finally, after trying behavioral techniques, he did start medication and a switch flipped. Now, if he misses a dose, he comes to me:
“Mom, we forgot my medicine, I’m feeling out of control, I can’t focus and I’m really angry.”
Anti-medicators may balk, but remember, every child is different. Parenting with intention is based on just that. Not all ADHD children need or do well on medication. For my younger child, after trial and error, it became necessary. Without it, he is miserable, angry, socially frustrated, and completely unable to function, both at school and at home.
As I write this, I feel a weight on my chest. My children suffered. But, they have a mother who trusted her instincts and called that specialist, scheduled that counseling session, demanded that meeting with the school vice principal.
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As I write this, I feel a weight on my chest. My children suffered. But, they have a mother who trusted her instincts and called that specialist, scheduled that counseling session, demanded that meeting with the school vice principal. My children are bright and learn in their own way. Schools, physicians, parents, caregivers, and even peers have a responsibility to recognize that we are not all cut from the same cloth. And given that, our needs can still and must be met.
I asked my sons’ permission before writing this article.
“Hey guys, I want to write about flexible parenting and how it’s important to pay attention to each child’s needs. Like how you both have attention issues, and learning challenges. Is that OK?”
And both replied with some version of “Of course, Mom. I’m not ashamed of who I am, it makes me special. If it can help another kid, that’s great.”
And that is parenting with intention. It is supporting your child as they are, not as who you expected or wanted them to be.
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And that is parenting with intention. It is supporting your child as they are, not as who you expected or wanted them to be. It is listening to your instinct, sometimes to experts, but mostly, listening to your child, whether they tell you with infant cries, tantrums, words, or other behaviors. As they grow, their needs change; parenting is active and dynamic.
Kids always tell you something. Following the “this is how I’ve always done it,” or “the books say to do xyz” is doing you and your child a disservice at best, and hampering their development, self-esteem, and future at worst.
Parenting Styles
Yes, there are four defined parenting styles. These are guidelines, and to my mind, also cautionary. Originally introduced in the 1960s by psychologist Diana Baumrind and amended by Maccoby and Martin in 1983, these styles are loosely defined as:
Authoritarian, where parents make and enforce strict rules and children are expected to obey or be punished. Demands are high and children who are parented this way tend to be obedient but suffer low self-esteem.
Authoritative, where rules are established but there is a responsive democracy. These parents are assertive without being restrictive, and discipline is supportive rather than punitive. Children of authoritative parents are typically happy and successful.
Permissive, where parents are often “indulgent,” make few demands, and rarely provide discipline. These parents often act more like friends and their children often have a trouble in school and with authority.
Uninvolved, where parents are unresponsive, although they may fulfill basic needs (clothing, food, and shelter). They may even reject or neglect their children outright. These children lack self-control, have difficulty with peers and do poorly in school.
Better yet, call me an intentional parent, one who listens, establishes boundaries, guidelines, openness and a soft place to land in a world that is rife with challenge and opportunity.
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Children parented in either extreme of the four ways, authoritarian or uninvolved, are not given a voice. They are not respected, listened to, or in some cases, cared for at all. I don’t like to label myself, because we are all different and have different needs, but if you must, call me a combination, an authoritative/permissive parent. Or better yet, call me an intentional parent, one who listens, establishes boundaries, guidelines, openness and a soft place to land in a world that is rife with challenge and opportunity.
Resources and Information
For more on parenting styles and how parents impact psychological development in children, go to About Psychology. You may see yourself in several of these categories. Again, your child’s needs are unique. Listen. Adjust. Practice self-awarness.
For more information, on learning and/or behavior challenges or for support, go to the Learning Disabilities Association of America website, or talk to you child’s pediatrician, teacher, psychologist or trusted friend. There are many ways—including legal and binding classroom accommodations— in which you can help your child. A square peg doesn’t fit into a round hole. Our children come in many shapes and sizes, and every one deserves its chance.
References
Baumrind, D. (1967). Child-care practices anteceding three patterns of preschool behavior. Genetic Psychology Monographs, 75, 43-88.
Maccoby, E. E., & Martin, J. A. (1983). Socialization in the context of the family: Parent–child interaction. In P. H. Mussen & E. M. Hetherington, Handbook of child psychology: Vol. 4. Socialization, personality, and social development (4th ed.). New York: Wiley.
Photo courtesy of author