Billy is on the playground. He tries the monkey bars, but it hurts his hands. He cries for a minute, then walks away with his head down while another kid laughs at his expense. Next time he’s there, he tells himself not to try again. No sense getting his hands and his ego both hurt.
Chrissy’s parents are getting divorced. The fear of the future lookng different, combined with grief for the family she thought would always look the same, have paralyzed her. She doesn’t want to get out of bed, but isn’t even sure why, let alone how to “fix” her “attitude”.
Joy struggles in math. She is hesitant to ask for help, embarassed that her classmates have figured her secret out. So she pretends to be sick on the day of her test, even though she will have to take it sooner or later, at least she can put it off one more day.
What’s a parent to do?
Stress and anxiety aren’t just for adults. Our children face scenarios that challenge them on the daily — physically, emotionally, and relationally. Some kids seem to have the ability to press on in spite of challenges: to look the figurative monkey bars square in the face and determine to conquer. Others are easily beaten down by their trials and struggle to cope. This doesn’t make them weak. That is a point to be repeated. Children’s brains are still developing and learning. They only learned how to use words instead of tears a couple short years ago. How could they possess the problem-solving skills they need to navigate the tumultuous waters of grief, stress, and anxiety?
Building resilience in our kids takes time, and they learn best from our example and our presence. As adults we don’t like to feel alone in our problems and pains, neither do children. As much as we desire to give them what they need when we see them struggling, we become awkward and lost sometimes when handling the really heavy stuff. We don’t want to drop the heavy things — we don’t want to break their hearts.
Caring about them yet feeling unsure and insecure about how to help, what to say, what not to say, can lead to inaction. It’s not that we don’t want to help, we aren’t sure what to say or do, so we freeze. Sometimes this amounts to acting like nothing is wrong. Sometimes it sounds like, “Why are you so mopey these days?” Sometimes it looks like being too busy. Our own feelings can be wounded when our child acts out hard emotions, and we might feel like backing down. It may look like that’s what the child wants. It’s not.
What is resilience?
Resilience is best described as the art of getting back up! What do you dobefore a sales pitch that helps you think straight even though you feel nervous? What does a professional athlete do before a big game to maximise performance? What allows you to smile, help and be present when you visit someone in the hospital without allowing your worry to overpower the conversation? How do you simmer down after a hard conversation or conflict so it doesn’t play on repeat in your head for the next week? That’s resilience.
We all know that we never calm down by being told, “Calm down!” or relax when we hear, “Relax, will ya?” The words “It’s okay,” don’t always make us sure that it is okay. Sometimes we just feel deep down inside that something is not right. We don’t feel safe.
When our children experience this, they often struggle to find the words to name what their emotions are telling them. They know something’s “not okay,” but they sometimes think that means with them. Life experience teaches us that hard times come and go, that life ebbs and flows like waves washing over the sand.Kids simply haven’t been around that long, so they wonder why they feel that way, they get angry with themselves, they want it to just go away. Children need to know, they can chase the scaries away. They can find the rainbow, even before the storm passes.
Here are a few suggestions on how to build those skills in our children.
Ways to Strengthen Resilience in Kids
Listen, without fixing. This one is easier said than done. It’s natural to want to solve our children’s problems and point them in the right direction, but when we do they lose confidence. Sometimes through speaking their situation out loud to empathetic ears, a little light breaks through. Getting it all out in the open can be a great silencer of that negative voice that says, “it can’t be solved. It will never get better.” We MUST silence that voice first, before they can listen to us or to their good hearts telling them the right thing.
Strong relationships with adults: Studies have revealed that when a child has at least one trusting and secure bond with an adult they feel safe around — but the more the better — that relationship has the power to lower their stress levels and strengthen their resolve to keep trying. This is where you come in, moms and dads, grandmas, aunts, uncles, granddads! Walk with them, sit with them, play and laugh with them, hug them and remind them they matter to you. Just the knowledge that someone is there if they need you goes a very long way.
Let them leap (cover your eyes if you have to)! We learn what we’re made of when we push our limits. Kids do this naturally — climbing trees, jumping from progressively higher structures — they can give a parent a thousand mini heart attacks before they’re even in elementary school! And we say, “Stop! It’s not safe!” with the very best intentions to protect their little craniums. Allow them to push themselves, it’s how they learn they can fly. I mean this within reason, of course, but even so. The faith they gain in themselves is a source of great courage and resilience, when they know that they know that they CAN do hard things after all! It’s even worth that little gasp we take when they climb a little too high!
Give mistakes a big hug. Embrace them, that is. Mistakes are how we learn. We make as many of them as our kids do, they just change as we get older. Give yourself and your children grace in those moments. Let the driving question not be “Whose fault was it?” but instead, “What did we learn from it?”
Give them a road map for feelings. Children have BIG feelings, but aren’t always sure what they’re feeling. Kids also tend to label feelings as “good” or “bad.” That labeling can cause them to feel guilty or like something’s wrong with them when they can’t quickly shake off grief or anger. That can feel like carrying around a big sack of rocks, with more rocks piling in faster than they can throw them out. It’s up to us to teach our children that each emotion has a place and time. Our feelings tell us what we need so we can take care of ourselves, there are no “bad” ones. Some aren’t so fun, but we need them all. Teaching kids to name them can go a long way to empower them to meet the needs that are expressed in those emotions — the need may be a hug, a break, a reconciliation, a little grace, the list goes on. This takes a lot of patience, because while we are trying to map out the emotion and the path to healing, the child is a little tornado swirling with emotion they can’t express. Be their calm in the storm, work through it with them. Listening is your valuable tool here, you can decode them through their actions when they don’t know what to say.
Soak up the sun! Big feelings can make us live inside our head. Get into your body and help them get into theirs. Take a walk, sign up for sports, go to the park. There is no bad weather, only the wrong clothes! Put on a rain coat and splash around. Put on a knit cap and gloves and throw snowballs. Not only does the sun’s natural brightness make us feel a little brighter, we really can stomp and run and shake off a lot of tough emotions. Getting that blood pumping through our hands and feet and brain just makes some situations come clearer. Even if the probem isn’t gone, we feel more in control after good old fashioned motion. Because we are moving forward — we are not stuck!
Resilience is contagious. Breathe it out and in, exude it. Surround yourself and your children with it. Like anything, this becomes easier with practice. If you look at a problem asking, “How can I solve this?” your children notice. If you look at a bad day and say, “Well the good thing about this day is…” your children will hear. If you aren’t afraid to say, “Well, that was a mistake, but next time I will…” your kids won’t be afraid to either.
Hold on tight! Good old fashioned grit, the ability to grab on for dear life and push through, comes from hope. Hope grows in the fertile soil of a soul that survives. Just like the daisies in my yard survive every winter and burst through again in the spring, and it seems like the cold that should kill them only multiplies them, that is hope inside the human spirit. We have survived hard things before, we know we can do it again. That confident assurance is what we pass to our children. It may be the greatest skill we can pass to them.
Grab on to your hope and hold on tight while the wind rages around, you will in the end survive the storm and stand again on solid ground.
But we are in a hurry. This world we live in — rushing to school and work, rushing to cook dinner after, rushing to activities and appointments — can make it feel like quality moments together are few and far between.
At the end of these long exhausting days, we tuck them in, whisper, “I love you.” Work a little more, then fall into bed asking ourselves, “Did I show it today? Did it sink in? Do they know?”
They know. Here’s what your kids would say on those crazy, out-of-your-mind-days:
I know you love me when you say it, even in passing, even once or twice a day.
When you greet me with, “Good morning, I love you!”
When you drop me off at activities and say, “Have fun! Love ya!”
When you tuck me in with a peck on the forehead and whisper, “Sweet dreams, I love you!” (Believe me, it’s not falling on deaf ears.)
I know you love me by the look in your eyes.
When you watch me play soccer with a glint of pride
When you glance at me in the rearview mirror and our eyes meet and you smile
When you take another picture of me on your phone (I know, you just can’t get enough of me)
When you glance into my bedroom a little longer after you say goodnight (I know you actually miss me when I’m asleep)
I know you love me by the way you smile.
When you say good morning
When you hand me my lunchbox and tell a silly joke (even if it’s not that funny)
When you pick me up from school and smile like we haven’t seen each other in a year (it makes me feel like a movie star)
When you laugh at my jokes (even when they aren’t that funny)
When you kiss me goodnight
I know you love me by your little touches.
When you hug me good morning
When your hand rests on my shoulder walking into school
When you squeeze my hand on the way into the store
When you high-five me at hockey
When you tousle my hair
When you kiss me goodnight
I know you love me because you care.
When I hop in the car after school and your first question is, “How was your day?”
When you say, “Have fun!” I know you wish good things for me
When you say, “Practice the piano,” even if I don’t want to, I know it’s because you want me to do well. (Same goes for “Do your homework!”)
When you write a little note in my backpack or pack my favorite snack
I know you love me because you help me.
You help me tie my shoes in the morning (or you did until I could do it on my own. Heck, you even changed my diapers and taught me to use a potty and…)
You pick me up when I fall
You have a bandage any time I need i
tWhen I’m sad, you give me a hug
When friendships are tough, you have the best advice
I know you love me because you are here.
You’re on the sidelines cheering
You’re at your desk paying the bills (I know we need that)
You’re sewing my ballet slippers — again
You come when I call, even in the middle of the night
You get me where I need to go
You make sure I have food to eat
You always have my back!
Dear moms and dads, even on the craziest of crazy busy days, your little people are watching and listening. They know they are loved, and they love you too!
In an earlier post I talked about the heroes we meet on our journey as special needs parents. We find those sparkling gems, courageous mothers, teachers and professionals, and we help each other along the way.
Today I’m excited to share a story with you about one such mother. Like most of us, Tina Karimian was scared when she learned that her son, Kelvin had special needs, but this brave mama only let it fuel her drive to learn what she needed to help her child succeed. Now, she runs We Kidz, an organization that exists to help other families navigate the world of special needs parenting and give their children the best.
Tina and Kelvin, confident and living their best life!
“From the beginning, when I found out my son was not able to talk or respond, I got depressed. I blamed myself…a lot. At one point I decided to make changes, but I didn’t know what to do or where to start.” Once the initial shock and grief process passed, Tina knew the only thing she could do was act. She went to the fight for her child, and started winning, although it was an uphill climb.
“I mixed spiritual healing with academic practices to boost …my son’s development, and I was quite successful. Next month, he will be 6 years old and he is now able to talk, listen to instruction, read, write and attend school!” Those victories spurred Tina on in her passion and she developed a vision to help other families succeed.
Tina’s vision utilizes a holistic approach to parenting. On the website, www.globalwekidz.com, you can find everything from parenting tips to information on fine and gross motor skill development, cognitive delays, exercises to help your child, parenting tips, fun activities and educational resources, and so much more.
Have creative fun along the way!
The beautiful thing about We Kidz is that it’s not only for families of children with special needs! There are resources here that any parent will find useful and helpful for all developmental stages. You can even sponsor a child so that other families can reap the benefits of the We Kidz program! And of course, you can also subscribe to this personal and caring support system.
I love it. I can relate so much to Tina’s journey, maybe you can too. I remember like it was yesterday the day I noticed something wasn’t alright about my baby. Thus began the terrifying process of searching for a diagnosis, and hearing those words no mother expects to hear. I felt so alone and like Tina, I used to blame myself. If something like this program had been available to me when my son was diagnosed, I could have felt so much less alone in the process. That is what Tina wants to give to other families, the hope and knowledge that they are not alone.
“I started this business only because of my son,” — or so she thought. Tina says, “As I learned and experienced, I realized it was about me…I have confidence that if it worked for my son, it can work for other children too. As parents, we take the first step, work towards our children’s goals and stay consistent. The program we designed is all about educating parents and providing them with strategies and activities to help them in their journey.”
As parents I think we all can relate to that defining moment when we realized that our own determination to help our child the best way we could is their main ingredient to reaching their goals. Most of us who have children living with disability and special needs know how accurate Tina’s words are, “it was all about me.”
Maybe you are at the starting gate right now, you recently received your child’s diagnosis and are feeling overwhelmed and unsure where to turn or how to begin. You are not alone. You don’t have to figure it all out by yourself. Reach out to other special needs parents, comment below, and reach out to Tina and We Kidz. There are so many of us who have been where you are now. It gets better. There are days it will feel like the fight of your life, because it is, but we want you to know: you can do this!
Visit We Kidz online here to learn more about what We Kidz has to offer, and how you can make a difference for your child or for others. Check out www.globalwekidz.com, meet my friend Tina and find companionship on your parenting journey.
Reading is a magic key that takes you where you want to be!
My son who lives with disability, Bug*, was born first. Three years later when his brother came along he wasn’t sure at all what to think! Definitely used to being attached at my hip (literally) most of the day and night, this tiny intruder upset the apple cart just a hair. Then, Bean* learned to smile. Bug couldn’t stop laughing at this squirmy little jelly ball smiling up at him. It was love.
This pattern continued as Bean learned to crawl, then toddle, then run! Boy did he run! Ever patient with Bug, who can do little on his own physically, Bean soon learned to pick up toys and place them on his tray. He soon became willing to give up his own TV show if Bug began grumbling or banging his head. He became very good at “go get Mommy a diaper for Bug” and would rush to the rescue, our mini superhero!
I would praise him for being such a good helper and caring brother…and then…I would get that pang.
You know.
The question every mom asks herself in this situation.
“Is Bean going to resent Bug?”
Hungry for material on the topic, I turned to some online blogs and parenting magazines. (We lived overseas at the time and didn’t have ready access to a library). I poured over all of the fairy tales and the horror stories chronicled in the great wide web. I put every piece of advice to work.
Most of all, I just tried to love my boys well all day every day (and night, let’s be real).
I spent time with them, reading, taking walks, cuddling, dancing silly, and of course the inevitable PT and OT. I made sure to try and spend time with Bean one-on-one in the hopes that he wouldn’t resent Bug, while still giving Bug all he needed.
I didn’t get everything perfect. I beat myself up every time I didn’t.
Never gave up trying though.
I was just beginning to feel like a circus juggler, at least starting to balance it all, when Bunny* came along. She hopped into the world agianst all odds, the story of her survival is one for another post — or book. God gets the glory. A more wanted child was never born, though all three of mine were–are–equally wanted.
As she grew that same question burned in the back of my mind, it became the voice of all my mom guilt. How do I juggle without dropping someone? No one can fall through the cracks.
Spoiler alert: I didn’t have to worry at all!
Bean and Bunny make a darling pair. They love to help Bug out, never with a hint of resentment, and they are each other’s best friends. I didn’t have to fight for that or force it. It was in their hearts all along. What was I so worried about? (If only I had a nickel for every time I’ve spoken those words as a mother!)
Think I figured out how to balance it all? Think again! Life just ebbs and flows. Some days we make it, some days we’re just glad not to break it.
And guess what the best thing about that is? The kids learn this too.
Special kids and special siblings become resilient. They grow and learn from each other. I will never forget the moment Bean, at five, had a friend over and confidently explained, “That’s Bug. He doesn’t walk or talk or anything, but it’s ok. You can say hi to him!” I knew then that I had no more to worry about. He wasn’t jealuos, he was going to be his brother’s greatest advocate.
A couple years down the line, Bean says to me, “Mom when you get too old to take care of Bug anymore I’m going to take care of him. Because I’m going to be big and strong to lift him by then.” I couldn’t keep the tears from showing that time (although I assured him that my growing old was a long way off — well, not that long).
Today Bunny, who is about to start kindergarten (look out, world, she’s a warrior queen!) , said to me, “Hey Mom, you know what? Some people talk and some people don’t and some people talk with their tablets.” She was referring to the tablet with a communication program that Bug uses to make his thoughts and feelings known. Then she added matter-of-factly, “That’s just how it is!”
For years now I’ve had a painting of an elephant hanging in a prominent place in my home. He has monarch butterfly wings and is flying with brightly colored hummingbirds amid a sky filled with bubbles. I spotted him and spent more than I should’ve at the time, because I knew as soon as I saw his whimsical joy that I wanted to look at him every single day.
Back then I was a newly single mom struggling to make ends meet and having just moved into our first rental as the four of us (myself and my three littles). Something about that elephant breaking free of everything that weighed him down and living his own daydream stuck with me. His refusal to settle for life on the ground inspired me to refuse to let life weigh me down either.
The life we live in this house has some seriously heavy stuff involved, particularly when it comes to the care and keeping of my quadriplegic, nonverbal, epileptic son. As a mom I’ve worked hard to seek joy and choose it so my kids can have a home filled with laughter, lightness of heart, and freedom from what could otherwise weigh us down. We are finding our wings in spite of our wrinkles.
I’m a sports mom, a music mom, a busy mom, a loving mom, and an imperfect mom. It’s nice to meet you!
P.S. If anyone out there knows the name of the painter of my elephant, I would LOVE to hear form them! My dream is to meet them and let them know how their work has impacted me.
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