P is for...

Potential.

That is not the word I had originally chosen; I was going to write about Phebe.  Phebe, one of the most supportive women I’ve ever known, was my mother-in-law for much too short a time.  The older kids remember her fondly, but alas, the two younger kids barely remember her, if at all.  One of the reasons I was going to write about her is because she was a great believer in potential and in making wonderful opportunities possible for others whenever she could.

When Dearest and I started considering the possibility of adopting children from the foster system, Phebe was ready to embrace more grandchildren, no matter what size, shape, color, physical condition, or mental ability they would be; she was probably the most accepting and supportive family member of all.  Because I had spent quite a bit of time looking into adopting hard-to-place children, I was aware of what the possibilities were (but not on a very practical level, as I’ve mentioned before!).

Whether the children with challenges in your life are biological offspring, adopted, stepchildren, foster, or other friends or relatives, it’s important to remember that even though they present with challenges, they also have potential.  For practical reasons, the limitations are often what we learn about first, because it may otherwise place a child in a dangerous situation.  Over time, though, we learned that ‘potential’ goes both ways; if there is potential for good, there must also be potential for bad.  Boyo loves to be involved in cooking and kitchen activities, but at the same time we get calls and emails from the school about problems – we used to joke that he will be a famous chef and make his cellmates proud.

Does this mean we don’t have any say in how these kids turn out?  No, in fact, I’m quite certain we could join the debate on nature vs. nurture, but what it really comes down to is that we give our kids tools – how they are used is up to them.  We, like parents everywhere, provide the best guidance we can manage and hope for the best.

A skein of yarn represents potential, to me, in every way.  With it, we can create something beautiful – that gorgeous red yarn is a merino-cashmere blend sock yarn.  There can also be disaster – the pretty, sparkly aqua yarn has already been knitted up into a spectacular failure; thankfully I was able to frog the whole project without ruining the yarn.  Now it will make a perfect hat for a dark-haired, brown-eyed granddaughter.  The point is, potential goes both ways.  The outcome is up to me.

O is for...

Occupation

I touched on the subject of career paths in yesterdays post.  Every parent wonders and occasionally worries about whether their child will find a suitable occupation.  In the case of children with challenges, it may be of more concern.  What if my child is unable or unwilling to further his or her education?  What if my child can’t compete in the job market with neurotypical people?  What if my child just doesn’t show any inclination or skill that points toward a specific occupation?

There aren’t going to be any answers in this post, because we don’t have any, yet.  I thought it might be helpful for someone else out there to hear me express my doubts and know – you’re not alone.  Our two kids are high-functioning enough that it’s unlikely they’ll qualify for much, if any, help via some type of school-to-work transition program.  At this point, in sixth and seventh grades, I remind myself there is still time.  Do we feel a career has to be settled by the time the kids are finished with school?  That would be an emphatic ‘No’… in fact, I didn’t have my own career goals sorted until fairly recently.  We will let them know that although the goal is to someday work one’s dream job, the necessity is to buy groceries, and there will be a lot of valuable experience in whatever job is performed conscientiously and with one’s best effort.

We live in a high-stakes situation when it comes to competition for employment, even for skilled and educated people – but adding to the pressure and stress for our kiddos will do more harm than good.  In the meantime, we advise the kids to do their best at whatever they attempt.  To get the highest grades they can manage and keep as many options available as possible.  To read, have ideas, and imagine their future. 

As much as I love knitting, and can happily knit for many hours at a time, I could never make it an occupation.  It would be like putting an obligation on meditation and comfort, and a dollar figure on my peace and relaxation.  Can’t be done – these things are priceless.

Grandpa Jack's cat pillow

N is for...

Nurture.

Not as in “nature vs.”; that is too volatile a topic and I have way too much at stake. Not going there. Just ‘nurture’.

What does that even mean?  At the most basic level, nurture means ‘to feed and protect’.  Well, there are a lot of children in this world who are being fed and protected, and still, sadly, lacking.  Dictionary.com also defines ‘nurture’ as “to support and encourage; foster. To bring up; train; educate”.  So I will specify that when I think of the word ‘nurture’, I define it as feeding and protecting the whole child, to include their intellectual and emotional selves. 

In our family, it means we look for signs of interest and try to structure toys and play areas in such a way that it feeds a child’s curiosity and comfort.  For a long time, Girlie was fascinated by manipulating small items, not building or counting them.  Dolls were completely uninteresting, but marbles were mesmerizing.  Eventually she started constructing marble runs, and then changing the construction and paying attention to what happens when the marbles met different obstacles.  In addition, everyone who knows her is aware of her obsession with rocks.  Many people have given her interesting specimens, and she has collected a few books and studied them carefully.  Even if these things don’t manifest into career paths, they make her feel secure, and we can nurture that.

Boyo is still building elaborate scenarios with LEGOs, Lincoln Logs, soldiers, cowboys, and Indians. He is in two ballet classes, and also continues to take piano lessons and practice daily.  He’s been playing since he was four years old and we think it’s a tool for stability and relaxation.  Is he bound for Julliard?  No, in fact, he shows no signs of becoming a virtuoso*, but even his teacher recognizes music as something that captures his focus and maybe blocks out all the other input.  The same seems to be true of ballet.  If it helps him manage his anxiety, believe me, we will nurture that!  (*I won’t rule out any possibilities, so if he dreams of becoming skilled enough to take music or dance to a higher level, we will be behind him all the way!)

Knitting, especially with wool, is nurturing to me.  Besides being meditative, it’s a very tactile experience, and the colors and textures can be soothing to the eye or jazz things up a little on a gray day.  My favorite thing is to knit something beautiful and give it away – Surprise! – a little something to make one feel nurtured and loved.

My 'With a Twist' handwarmers were originally designed and knitted  for a Ravelry swap partner in Sweden.

M is for...

Math.

Why is math scary to so many people?  If you think about it, it would make more sense to be scared of words, than of math.  Words can be tricky, but math is steadfast and absolute.  The only time most people run into trouble is when you mix words and math – remember those story problems?  Logic doesn't enter into fear, though, and math can be mighty scary to me!

Neither of my two older kids had any real issues with math.  Good thing, since their mother is practically phobic about it.  I did fine until junior high – Mr. T, sitting behind his desk with his newspaper, probably dreaming about retirement, wasn’t very helpful for those of us who felt a bit insecure.

Apparently I’m not as dumb about it as I feel; sometimes, the most startling equations just appear in my head, as when I’m working on a building project or planning a major modification in a knitting project.  But then it’s not math, see, it’s building or knitting.

The two youngest kids are having middle-school-math-growing-pains.  Me, too.  One spent the entire first year of middle school in tears over math homework every day.  One said, on more than one occasion, “I don’t need any help; I just don’t know how to do it!”  (What?)  The hardest part is teaching the kids that if they don’t actually learn to solve what is in front of them, they cannot move on to the next step.

So, have I gotten over my fear of math?  No, in fact there are still times when, if I look at a problem in the book or on a worksheet, I feel a bit of anxiety and have to take myself sternly in hand.  After all, if I don’t approach it calmly, none of us will get through it successfully.  We’re fortunate that daughter Carey lives next door, as she has a great talent for teaching math and can stay calm and matter-of-fact when things are a bit tense.  We have more tools available to help, too – Girlie learned how to use her scientific calculator within a couple days and explained it to me, and quite a lot of our school math is available in an interactive online platform.  Very, very helpful.  If all else fails, Google is my trusty friend.  I don’t know what we’re going to do when we get to high school math…

One of my biggest math challenges in knitting was figuring out how to make a large sphere for a ‘balloon ball’.  It’s a fabric sphere with a small hole in one end.  You insert most of a balloon, inflate ‘til it fills up the sphere, tie it off, and tuck the knot into the fabric.  It makes a great, light-weight, indoor-safe play ball and the balloon, protected by the fabric, can last weeks.  To knit one, I had to figure out the rate of increase, how long to knit evenly, and mirrored decreases.  There are plenty of patterns available now for similar items, or even Christmas ornaments that could be enlarged, but I was pretty pleased with myself – I did the math.

L is for...

Limitations.

We all have them.  The difficulty lies not only in recognizing them, but in respecting them.

Sometimes, limits are meant to be pushed.  Often, that is how growth is encouraged and realized.  Putting ourselves or our children just a little bit out of the comfort zone to master a newly emerging skill enables us to either celebrate success or learn where more work is needed.

Other times, there are limits that must be respected.  Those of us with chronic physical conditions have to heed our limitations and work within them to stay healthy and safe.  Children with emotional challenges present special circumstances, because it can be especially difficult deciding which limits to push – including when and how hard – and which to leave in place. 

Girlie is sensitive to loud noises; she always has been.  In primary school, the cafeteria was torture, and eventually the staff learned there were days when it was better to let her eat in the office.  Before a scheduled fire drill, someone would get her out of class and take her for a walk outside.  By the time she was in elementary school, she was able to deal with those situations better, but would be emotionally fragile the rest of the day.  We spent years dealing with nightly hysteria around the Fourth of July.  Now, she can tolerate fireworks displays when she can see them, but the fireworks for days before and after Independence Day, when folks are having fireworks in our rural area, wear her out.  The surprise explosions keep her in hyper-startle mode for days.

She is in middle school now, and learning to advocate for herself.  Although she is still stressed or fearful in noisy surroundings or by some sounds in particular, she can often talk her way through it.  Did I get that?  No; in fact, what with those expectations I keep referring to, it’s taken me far too long to understand that Girlie really doesn’t want to go see the latest show (dark theater and surround-sound at maximum volume, anyone?) and is much happier waiting for the DVD.  She gets it.  She doesn’t want to go to the school concerts, and why didn’t I realize that the reason she was chattering all during the introductions is because she was about to get hysterical when the music started?  She gets it.  No matter how much she admires the beautiful costumes, she doesn’t want to go to the ballet and be surrounded by crashing applause.  She gets it.  Finally, thankfully, Mom gets it, too.

In knitting, the only real limitations we have are those we impose upon ourselves.  Once we’re comfortable with a few basic stitches, we have the building blocks for pretty much any pattern.  Eventually, though, I realized it’s better for me to recognize what I need from knitting, not just what I want.  Although I love the look of beautiful stranded fairisle colorwork, I don’t want to deal with multiple yarns and a pattern that needs my full attention every minute.  Even though I enjoy the occasional cable and really admire traditional Aran sweaters, I can’t see myself getting much pleasure out of the process.  I became a much happier knitter when I limited my knitting to my comfort zone, even if I do still look wistfully through the pattern books.  Maybe someday, but right now, I’ll just let the yarn do the work.

'Waving Not Drowning' Pattern by Violet Green knitted with Sockotta Striped Effect Yarn

K is for...

Kid gloves.

As in, the kind one might wear when handling delicate situations.  Children who are anxious can be cranky, uptight, belligerent, and downright rude.  Neurotypical kids will usually acknowledge ‘the line’ and not cross it; challenged kids may not recognize the presence of a line at all.  One can feel the explosive energy in the air at our house, sometimes, and it’s almost as if one incendiary word would blow the lid off.  It takes a lot of energy to not only figure out the source of the anxiety (and sometimes we just can’t), but to maintain a calm and soothing atmosphere as much as possible.

The truth is, I don’t always have that kind of energy, so sometimes we all go down in flames.  All the books we read about raising children with challenges – no matter how much they vary on some points – will give this piece of wisdom: you must take care of yourself.  You must take care of yourself.  The problem is, parents of kids with challenges often find difficulty in arranging time for self-care.

In our family, we have learned to capitalize on moments of respite.  I can walk out to get the mail – that’s good for a few deep breaths.  I can go out to the chicken coop and fulfill whatever small needs the hens may have.  In the summer, I might go around to the garden and pluck a few raspberries or pull a few weeds.  Probably the most important thing Dearest and I have established as a couple is a firm bedtime for the kids, ensuring we have quiet time together in the evening to watch a movie (and knit!) or sit and read (and knit!) together.

As our two have gotten older we are practicing more independence by leaving them home alone, but that, too, is handled with ‘kid gloves’.  We rarely leave the two kids together and we make sure our oldest daughter, who lives next door, is home.  An hour is still the limit.  Having been a model Helicopter Mom for several years I can tell you this transition is difficult, but so very necessary for all concerned. 

'Kid gloves' are also good for keeping 'kid hands' warm, but gloves can make zippers and buttons difficult to manage.  Our kiddos (including the big ones!) like the fingerless gloves or handwarmers I’ve knitted.  There are plenty of free patterns on Ravelry, but once you’ve knitted a couple you get the basic idea and can turn it into mindless, meditative knitting.  Perfect for knitting in the evening after a day of putting out fires.

J is for...

Judicious: having, showing, or done with good judgment or sense.

Full disclosure – I have a bag of tricks that include incentive, encouragement, and metaphors.  These are very complicated techniques that may sometimes appear to be bribery, manipulation, and lies.  All used judiciously, and always for the purpose of achieving a positive outcome as often as possible.

For instance, it would be to no one’s benefit for Girlie to be told there is no Santa Claus.  She’s 13; I don’t know for sure what she believes in her heart, but we aren’t saying anything one way or the other.  When she called Dearest and I together the other evening and tearfully voiced her concerns that she and her brother were on the Naughty List, I did not rush to tell her there was no such thing.  Dearest and I said we didn’t think there was anything to worry about; on the contrary, she and her brother have done pretty well lately, and as long as she keeps doing her best, she’ll be fine.  I believe she felt placated, and we didn’t once mention Santa’s name.

Mealtimes are often fraught with tension.  I struggle with it, but dinner is my least favorite meal of the day, in many ways.  There is no such thing as cooking a meal and putting it on the table for all to enjoy, unless it’s half pepperoni, half Hawaiian pizza.  There either has to be separate foods (something from Girlie’s very short list) or we have to prepare ourselves for conflict.  This is where I most often use incentive and encouragement, and if my teeth are gritted behind my smile it’s better than someone stomping away from the table in a huff (and yes, it’s been me on occasion).  Since Girlie is so underweight we can’t just let her refuse to eat; unlike a neurotypical child, she won’t give in and eat when she gets hungry. 

I try, every day, to make sure there is something she likes or at least has a grudging willingness to eat if covered with enough ketchup.  Girlie has mastered the avoidance technique by engaging someone – anyone – in conversation to avoid eating foods she doesn’t like.  She’s a slow eater, too, and will often be at the table for over an hour while Boyo is waiting to watch a bit of television, which we can’t do while Girlie is at the table because she’ll sit with food on her half-raised fork and never get it to her mouth.  Yes, we have some regrets about establishing a ‘habit’ of dessert, but desperate times call for desperate measures!

Do our techniques always work?  No – in fact, something that probably started off as avoiding a conversation about the Easter Bunny almost ended in what would likely have been a 5^th grade social disaster.  I can’t remember how it morphed into a legendary tale, but it involved Jackalopes, a favorite 'symbol' of the West in my family.  Boyo was sitting at the computer one day last spring and we were discussing eggs, because he was working on his science fair project.  Somehow, past conversations had completely transformed in his head; it seems he was looking for information on whether the Jackalopes had antlers because they were guardians of Easter eggs.  Whoops…

My knitted, felted Jackalope bag - with a (Jackalope?) antler button!  :-)