All You Need Is...

The above message was slipped under the bathroom door this morning by my daughter, Sweet Pea, while I was shaving. She usually isn't up that early, so it was a bit of a surprise. When I had finished I opened the door, and she gave me a great big hug and told me I was the best daddy in the whole wide world.

Not a bad way to start your day.

I once read a definition of a daughter as "The one woman in your life who will love you totally and not try to change you." I can kind of understand that.

Of course, this is the same daughter who over the weekend, after being called out for taunting her brother, was crying and yelling at us at the top of her lungs "I hate you. You don't love me. You always yell at me. I'm going to leave and find new parents who will love me." (Note-she defines "yelling at her" as any comment that uses even a slightly disapproving tone of voice)

I think I'm going to have to "store" the memory of days like this, to get me through her puberty.

The Child Whisperer

photo credit-shutterblog


There's an acquaintance of mine that lives in the Seattle area (I'll call him Ed). He lived in Asia for several years, then moved back to the states. His wife and he ended up divorcing, and his two sons lived with him. They were still pre-teens/early teens, and the divorce was as hard (or harder) on them as it was on him.

Ed is a counselor by training and profession, and after the divorce had problems with his own two kids acting out. He related to me once how every night when they were sleeping he would sit by their bedsides and whisper softly to them. He would tell them how much he loved them, and talk positively about some aspect of each child each day. He said there's no way of telling if this ever influenced them, but gradually they all got better.

Something about this story struck me, and as I was a new father at the time (we had recently adopted Buddy Boy) I incorporated this into my bedtime routine with him, and later with Sweet Pea.

So in addition to reading and singing to the kids, I would whisper things to them. I would tell them about how great they were, how Liz and I loved them to the moon and back, and about all the wonderful things they would do when they grew up.

I don't do this as much with Sweet Pea or Buddy Boy at bedtime anymore, but I have continued this with Buddy Boy in the middle of the night.

Buddy Boy, like many kids on the spectrum, has had some problems with toilet training. His sister pretty much self trained at 3 years old, but with Buddy Boy it's always been a bit of a struggle. At 7 he's fine during the day, but unless we wake him up to take him to the bathroom during the night he's sure to be wet in the morning. Even with taking him at night there are still about 30% wet mornings, but at least if he's been taken at night it's confined to his pullups, and doesn't spread to the rest of the bed.

When I take him to the bathroom and lead him back to bed he's basically sleepwalking. If I don't guide him where to go he would probably bump into something. After taking him back to bed I will usually whisper a few things to him. I tell him what a great kid he is, and how I'm proud of him because of (something that he did good that day). I tell him how much fun I have with him, and how happy I am that I'm his father. I don't make it too long, and whisper very softly, for I don't want to wake him up (especially as we've been having sleep issues).

Usually he just lies there, looking as beautiful and peaceful as he did as a baby. But sometimes as I'm talking I see a smile come across his lips, and I know that I've penetrated his subconscious on some level.

It's one of those pure father and son moments that bind us together. I think it helps both of us know that no matter how hard things are, we will always have our love for each other. And that that love makes the two of us together stronger than the sum of what each of us brings to the table.

I'm going to miss this when he doesn't need us anymore to assist him in the middle of the night. I might have to slip into his bedroom just to whisper to him for the heck of it.

This Gentleman Prefers Blonds

One thing that has always been a part of Buddy Boy’s makeup is that he hardly appears to be paying attention to his peers. While he likes adults, knows his teachers’ names, and can relate things that adults in his life did that day, he does not appear to care about kids his age. He doesn’t much like to play with other kids and rarely talks to them. When he comes home from school, he can relate no things he did with any other children, and even after being in the same class with the same kids for two years, could not name any other kids in the class. There is one notable exception to this rule.

My kid digs blond chicks.

This is the only conclusion I can come to, after considering the following:

When in pre-school, there was one girl whose name he knew, and that teachers mentioned he would (sometimes) talk to. It was a girl named Trudy, who happened to be blond.

When in Kindergarten, there was only one classmate that Buddy Boy ever was able to recall, Anna, who was blond. She often tried to look after Buddy Boy and include him with class activities, even though he rarely responded.

Finally, when Liz was taking him to a gym class the other day (run by a local OT who is great at getting Buddy Boy to participate), he indicates this girl in the class who is probably 9 years old (and blond) and tells Liz “That’s my love.” I guess it was all Liz could do to keep herself from cracking up at that point. Here was her son, who hardly ever interacts in any way we recognize with other kids, declaring his love for a girl he doesn’t know (by his own admission, she has only ever asked him “Could you go stand somewhere else?”).

I’m not sure where this “blond thing” comes from. Liz isn’t blond. None of the females in our families are blond. Buddy Boy’s birthmother isn’t blond. Did he have a good experience with Trudy in pre-school, and is now transferring what he feels is her essence (her being blond) to other kids? Is it some innate thing that is expressing itself? Has he internalized this from watching TV?

I am not sure where this has come from, but I wish I understood it, as it seems a powerful force.

I'd love to harness that force, just as long as it doesn't involve Barbie or Paris Hilton.

Joe is 211

The 100 percent solution

Several years ago I went to visit Mr. B, the father of my best friend in high school. I had spent a good deal of time at my friend's house during high school, and had become somewhat close to the rest of the family. I always admired Mr. and Mrs. B's relationship. No matter what obstacles they faced, they always maintained a quiet calm about them. Although I did not have what could be described as a "bad" childhood, our household was always much more raucous and rough and tumble than the B's. I think one of the reasons I preferred hanging out at my friend's house over mine is that it always seemed more peaceful.

Mr. and Mrs. B and the family had had their share of tragedy in their life. One of their son's had fallen into a river as a child and died while three sons were fishing with their dad. Despite this (or could it have been because of this) having happened, there was always a sense of the joy of life in their house.

Mr. B was dying, and I wanted to go and visit, as well as give some respite for the day to his wife, who was caring for him.

I spent a good deal of time talking to Mr. B that day, and one of the things that I asked him was what was the secret of having a good marriage. Mr. B replied in his quiet, yet strong and direct, manner. "Most people talk about marriage being a partnership, and how things need to be 50:50. Then when they don't get what they perceive is their 50% worth, they get upset. I've always approached marriage as a 100% thing. Sometimes you're giving 100%, and sometimes you're the one getting the 100% from your partner. And sometimes it's some other percentage. And you can't keep track of when you're giving it, and when you're getting it."

Many years have passed since that day. I'm not the best husband in the world. I get cranky, can be self centered at times, and am not the greatest at cleaning around the house. Yet whenever there are stresses in my marriage (financial, dealing with the school system, feeling sorry for myself when I turned down a promotion to be able to spend more time at home, etc.) I try to stop and remember my conversation with Mr. B from that day, and try to give my 100% to my wife. And perhaps in doing so, I can pass some of that same joy of living that existed in the B's home to mine.

So on this Valentine's Day, give your love 100%, and open yourself up to the fact that that 100% will come back to you at some point.

Joe is 208