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<blockquote data-quote="DammitJanet" data-source="post: 122757" data-attributes="member: 1514"><p>Here is more on the same topic:</p><p>Author Topic: How to explain difficult child to family and friends</p><p></p><p>Dear ones,</p><p>I am starting this one because I just read a request for advice on the topic, and I think probably many of our new friends could use some pointers. I know this place sure helped me with the problem!</p><p></p><p>How DO we deal with friends and family, when they have a difficult time even being around our children, much less understanding the myriad issues from medication to FAPE, to therapy, to psychiatrist appointments, ya dah ya dah ya dah.</p><p></p><p>Well, my mother, poor dear woman had raised a bunch of kids, and had also had a bunch of foster kids, at least one of whom was probably ODD or CD, but that was back in the early 70s when he was simply viewed as a little terrorist.</p><p></p><p>He was returned to sender the next day or so. She had a baby in the house, and his "temporary" placement ended up being even more "temporary" than originally presumed.</p><p></p><p>Anyway, suffice it to say that my mother is no shrinking violet when it comes to difficult children. But she did not have a CLUE when it came to Fuzz. She thought that with enough spanking, you could eventually get the kid's attention, and then he would believe you when you said he had to mind you.</p><p></p><p>Of course, she had no idea how to react when said spanked child pressed charges of child abuse, or even battery against said adult in charge of -- holy cow!</p><p></p><p>Well, I had to settle for one of two options, as far as I could see it.</p><p></p><p>Option 1. I have to put up with hearing the same criticism every time I am around her, for the rest of my life, and if my kid turns out to be a criminal, she will be first in line to say, "I TOLD you that you needed to spank that boy more!" At which time I would kill her. (Not really. I'd just move several thousand miles away and not leave a forwarding address.)</p><p></p><p>Option Number 2. Enlist her. Make her part of the solution, instead of another problem.</p><p>I selected Option number two.</p><p>And here is how I got my mother on board.</p><p></p><p>I printed off the Chandler paper for Fuzz's diagnosis. And gave it to her, with the request that she read it, because I needed to talk to someone who knew me, and she might be able to help me figure some stuff out. (This means you are "needing" the other person's perspective and wisdom.)</p><p></p><p>A few weeks later, when we were able to be together, I sat down with her late one night when the kids were asleep, and said, "I can't do this by myself. I really need your and Dad's help on this one. You see, my kid is never going to believe anything I say, if I'm the only one who says it to him."</p><p></p><p>She looked at me like I just said Cows are Blue. She had sort of a mystified look on her face.</p><p>So I continued, as I believe a confused person is far easier to take advantage of, than someone who knows right out that you are full of cow pies.</p><p></p><p>"Mother, I could tell that child that the sun comes up in the east, and goes down in the west, and he would argue with me. He needs to know that EVERYBODY on this Planet with any sense at all believes that the sun comes up in the east, and goes down in the west, and that's just the way it is."</p><p></p><p>At this point, I had effectively enlisted my mother as a key player in the future mental health of my child.</p><p>She asked me what I wanted her to do.</p><p>Hooked! Gotcha!!!! (happy dance = /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/)</p><p></p><p>Well, Mother. I need you to tell him exactly what you think, the same as you did us when we were kids. If he's doing something here, in your house, that you don't like, tell him so. Because he needs to hear that from you.</p><p>She looked a little askance at me. And then she said, well, I did kind of scold him awhile ago. I went downstairs to get a jar of beans for dinner, and he was jumping on the bed, and before I even realized that I shouldn't say it because he isn't my kid, I said, "Don't you jump on the beds in my house!"</p><p></p><p>I grinned, and said, "And did he quit?"</p><p>She said, "Well, yes, of course!"</p><p>And I said, "And did he argue with you?"</p><p>And she said, "No. He just got off the bed."</p><p>And I said, "But you see, you showed him that his mother is not the only one in the world who doesn't let him jump on the furniture."</p><p>She said, "Well, I can sure do that. I can even snap my fingers and point at the same time, and give him 'The Look' as you kids used to call it."</p><p></p><p>We both laughed at that point.</p><p></p><p>The point here is, that if you explain to your friends and family that your child has a disability, and they need people to help them learn the way the world works, and specifically how people can help with that teaching process, you will get one of two reactions most of the time. They will either get with the program, or they will run away as fast and as far as they can. Either way, you know pretty quickly which way they're going, and you can then operate accordingly.</p><p></p><p>It does take other people for our children to be able to see an identifiable community of people around them sharing a value system that is clear and predictable, and in the child's view, fairly universal. People who are not prepared to share that community standard with our children, are simply wasting our time. We are in a battle here, to keep our children from doing things that hurt people, and even destroy our children themselves. We don't have time to waste our children's futures because we are trying to placate the feelings of people who have not only not walked a mile in our shoes, but they wouldn't be caught dead in them, because they don't match the handbags!</p><p></p><p>So, dear ones, hang in there, and keep teaching each other and the rest of the world.</p><p></p><p>A personal note. Tonight, we attended the variety show at Fuzz's elementary school. A man in the audience was one of the staff members from the inpatient psychiatric unit that saw Fuzz two and a half years ago and recommended he be locked up. The man was astonished to see the changes in that boy. Tonight, Fuzz was a regular sixth grade kid, singing, and performing with all the other kids.</p><p>Yes!!!!!!!</p><p>pico,</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="DammitJanet, post: 122757, member: 1514"] Here is more on the same topic: Author Topic: How to explain difficult child to family and friends Dear ones, I am starting this one because I just read a request for advice on the topic, and I think probably many of our new friends could use some pointers. I know this place sure helped me with the problem! How DO we deal with friends and family, when they have a difficult time even being around our children, much less understanding the myriad issues from medication to FAPE, to therapy, to psychiatrist appointments, ya dah ya dah ya dah. Well, my mother, poor dear woman had raised a bunch of kids, and had also had a bunch of foster kids, at least one of whom was probably ODD or CD, but that was back in the early 70s when he was simply viewed as a little terrorist. He was returned to sender the next day or so. She had a baby in the house, and his "temporary" placement ended up being even more "temporary" than originally presumed. Anyway, suffice it to say that my mother is no shrinking violet when it comes to difficult children. But she did not have a CLUE when it came to Fuzz. She thought that with enough spanking, you could eventually get the kid's attention, and then he would believe you when you said he had to mind you. Of course, she had no idea how to react when said spanked child pressed charges of child abuse, or even battery against said adult in charge of -- holy cow! Well, I had to settle for one of two options, as far as I could see it. Option 1. I have to put up with hearing the same criticism every time I am around her, for the rest of my life, and if my kid turns out to be a criminal, she will be first in line to say, "I TOLD you that you needed to spank that boy more!" At which time I would kill her. (Not really. I'd just move several thousand miles away and not leave a forwarding address.) Option Number 2. Enlist her. Make her part of the solution, instead of another problem. I selected Option number two. And here is how I got my mother on board. I printed off the Chandler paper for Fuzz's diagnosis. And gave it to her, with the request that she read it, because I needed to talk to someone who knew me, and she might be able to help me figure some stuff out. (This means you are "needing" the other person's perspective and wisdom.) A few weeks later, when we were able to be together, I sat down with her late one night when the kids were asleep, and said, "I can't do this by myself. I really need your and Dad's help on this one. You see, my kid is never going to believe anything I say, if I'm the only one who says it to him." She looked at me like I just said Cows are Blue. She had sort of a mystified look on her face. So I continued, as I believe a confused person is far easier to take advantage of, than someone who knows right out that you are full of cow pies. "Mother, I could tell that child that the sun comes up in the east, and goes down in the west, and he would argue with me. He needs to know that EVERYBODY on this Planet with any sense at all believes that the sun comes up in the east, and goes down in the west, and that's just the way it is." At this point, I had effectively enlisted my mother as a key player in the future mental health of my child. She asked me what I wanted her to do. Hooked! Gotcha!!!! (happy dance = /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/) Well, Mother. I need you to tell him exactly what you think, the same as you did us when we were kids. If he's doing something here, in your house, that you don't like, tell him so. Because he needs to hear that from you. She looked a little askance at me. And then she said, well, I did kind of scold him awhile ago. I went downstairs to get a jar of beans for dinner, and he was jumping on the bed, and before I even realized that I shouldn't say it because he isn't my kid, I said, "Don't you jump on the beds in my house!" I grinned, and said, "And did he quit?" She said, "Well, yes, of course!" And I said, "And did he argue with you?" And she said, "No. He just got off the bed." And I said, "But you see, you showed him that his mother is not the only one in the world who doesn't let him jump on the furniture." She said, "Well, I can sure do that. I can even snap my fingers and point at the same time, and give him 'The Look' as you kids used to call it." We both laughed at that point. The point here is, that if you explain to your friends and family that your child has a disability, and they need people to help them learn the way the world works, and specifically how people can help with that teaching process, you will get one of two reactions most of the time. They will either get with the program, or they will run away as fast and as far as they can. Either way, you know pretty quickly which way they're going, and you can then operate accordingly. It does take other people for our children to be able to see an identifiable community of people around them sharing a value system that is clear and predictable, and in the child's view, fairly universal. People who are not prepared to share that community standard with our children, are simply wasting our time. We are in a battle here, to keep our children from doing things that hurt people, and even destroy our children themselves. We don't have time to waste our children's futures because we are trying to placate the feelings of people who have not only not walked a mile in our shoes, but they wouldn't be caught dead in them, because they don't match the handbags! So, dear ones, hang in there, and keep teaching each other and the rest of the world. A personal note. Tonight, we attended the variety show at Fuzz's elementary school. A man in the audience was one of the staff members from the inpatient psychiatric unit that saw Fuzz two and a half years ago and recommended he be locked up. The man was astonished to see the changes in that boy. Tonight, Fuzz was a regular sixth grade kid, singing, and performing with all the other kids. Yes!!!!!!! pico, [/QUOTE]
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