Finding a Formula for Successful Families

As a child of the '70s, I was weaned, per my pediatrician's instructions, around 5 months and given formula thereafter.  My mom recalls being advised that this course of action was the "healthy" option for infants. I'm baically a  healthy person--no history of major illnesses or developmental problems. Sure, I could always use a few extra IQ points, but I don't think being formula-fed has held me back from winning a Nobel or anything.

That's why I found myself saying, "Amen, sister!" while reading this article by Alissa Quart in the New York Times on Sunday. Since the 1970s, the American Academy of Pediatrics has reversed course and now recommends that mothers breastfeed exclusively for the first year of a child's life.

Well, that's all fine and good, but many mothers of newborns run into numberous adversities in breastfeeding:  latching problems, low output, pain or discomfort while nursing, or unsupportive (or even hostile) work environments for pumping,  There's a myriad of reasons why a mother might choose formula, and shaming her for that choice is unhelpful--and maybe even harmful.

So, let's focus on what Ms. Quart advises in her article:  child outcomes.  We have lots of data that says free early childhood education, paid parenting leave, and more workplace flexibility lead to better outcomes for children and families.  More support for working parents sounds to my formula-nourished mind like the healthiest option of all.

Finding Gratitude in Unlikely Places

I am grateful for hair-pulling, biting, pushing, shoving, screaming and crying.  Ok, not so much those behaviors, per se, but what they represent.

I was talking with a mother of two young children this morning who says she struggles with helping her children play together successfully.  Her 6 year-old likes to make elaborate lego projects that her 2 year-old brother likes to take down Godzilla-style.  She has tried convincing her daughter to build these projects in her room.  She has tried redirecting her son toward different toys.  Neither of these strategies has worked.

They want to be together, which is nice, I told her.  It's what I tell myself when my own daughters have the same fight...over and over again.  They could play in separate rooms or with separate toys,  goodness knows we have more than enough to go around.  But the separation wouldn't meet their needs for togetherness, which is a strong need, indeed.  And sometimes they play together successfully.  I just tend not to notice, since no one is screaming, "Mom, help!" at those moments. So I try to remind myself of the lovely part of their siblinghood when I extract one from the other, teeth bared and tears flowing.

I've learned a lot from clients who've consulted with me over the years about finding gratitude in unlikely places.  They've found it in seeing they have choices, even when those choices aren't the  greatest.  In finding calm in an otherwise anxiety-provoking time while washing dishes or pulling weeds.  In having a major life crisis hold a mirror up to their life and finding they don't like what they see and using their resources to change it.

There is much to be grateful for, even in trying times.  Sometimes we have to look beyond the initial ugliness to find the beauty at its core.

Teaching Empathy in Extra-Large Doses

Today, my 2 y.o. bit another child. I know "why" she did it: She has speech and hearing challenges. Another child was playing with a toy she wanted. She can't say: "I want that, too. Can I have a turn please?" But, you better believe the kid she bit dropped the toy like a hot potato. So, biting is effective for getting the toy--less so when one wants to make friends, which she really, really wants. So that's the "why" of it. But harder still is coming up with the "how" in helping her have empathy for other children when she is feeling flustered.

I've been doing a post-mortem of my responses to her biting of other children, and I was relieved to read this article by Dr. Meryl Lipton and find that I've done most of her recommended steps in helping her learn empathy. I haven't yet experimented with the drawing exercises, but I'm itching to try them out, despite having drawing skills not much better than my toddler daughter's. Perhaps she'll develop a little empathy for her artistically-challenged mother, too.

Rufus Griscom and Alisa Volkman: It's time to explode 4 taboos of parenting

I highly recommend this TED talk from the founders of babble.com who (with hilarious charts and graphs) deconstruct much of the "conventional wisdom" of new parenthood, miscarriage, and hanging in there as a couple. Funny, touching, and important. Please share with new or expecting parents.

The Self-Care Challenge

Making time for self-care is difficult even under the best of circumstances, but throw a baby (or two or three) into the mix, and self-care is often the first thing to be thrown out with the proverbial bath water. With that in mind, Ann Dunnewold and Diane Sanford started this new blog to create a new and sustaining self-care regimen in just 21 days. In three weeks, parents can develop the habits of mind and body to care for themselves as well as they do their little ones.

To Use or Not to Use Antipsychotic Drugs on Children

My friend Ruthie is getting her PhD in couples and family therapy, which is great because (A): she is super smart and hard-working, and (B): she shares her readings with me, so I don't have to go to the trouble of hunting down the latest research myself!

So, this recent article she shared piqued my interest because many families struggle with the question of whether to medicate a young child who has violent outbursts.

I've seen it both ways. Some kids are really helped by medication, but ONLY IF they are properly diagnosed and treated. Others are mis-diagnosed and over-medicated. By the time they reach 13 or 14 years-old, they realize they've been mistreated and are really, really angry and distrustful of the health system and the adults around them. And either way, it still leaves open the question of what the long-term effects are of antipsychotics on young children. We just don't have the long-term case studies to know with certainty what the outcome will be.

Kyle's family's story illustrates that when family's like his are given counseling and other social supports, children's behavior changes. And at least with counseling, we know there are no long-term biological effects. Long-term social-emotional effects, yes indeed, but physiological harm: no way!

Nature + Nurture = Healthy Relationships

I like what Bruce had to say on his blog about parenting orchids and dandelions:

The key to understanding orchids, dandelions and parents might be in conceptualizing the relationships between us all as the central point of focus, moving away from the notion of stand-alone gifted or troubled children toward an emphasis on trusting and nourishing vs. troubled and destructive relationships.

Amen, Bruce. We're all in this together.

Channeling Your Orchid's Yetser Hara

I am really not up on my Torah, but the concept of "yetser hara" as described in Wendy Mogel's "Blessing of a Skinned Knee" makes a lot of sense. The way I understand it, yetser hara is one's inclination toward rule-breaking and adventure. Its counterpart, yetser tov, is our inclination to hold these desires in check, to toe the line.

Using these concepts to better understand how parents must tailor their parenting style to a child's personality, it may be useful to think about how orchids may have a more generous dose of "yetser hara" than their dandelion peers. This inclination toward risk-taking, while useful in many settings, seems an obvious disadvantage when breaking a rule might lead to a lack of safety, such as in failing to look both ways to cross the street. With orchids, parents would be wise to choose which rule-following battles to fight. Perhaps a parent might be more lenient about their orchid daughter climbing to the top of the monkey bars unassisted, while sticking to their guns about having an adult present in the kitchen while operating the stove.

I was thinking about how yetser hara would also apply to discipline, namely, that old stand-by, the time out. Children with more yetser tov, might do fine to sit compliantly for three minutes in a time out chair, but orchids might need some help bringing their yetser hara in check. Perhaps parents might prefer to model how one brings oneself under control by sitting quietly for one minute next to their "timed out" youngster. A parent could practice yoga breathing techniques (see early posts for ideas), repeating a mantra, or simply sitting quietly in a meditative, seated position. Whatever one chooses to do to model controlling one's own yetser hara, it seems that getting into a battle of wills with an orchid over discipline is a losing propostion. And yet plenty of well-intentioned parenting books would have you believe otherwise.

I think that's the "art" part of parenting. While parenting books would have you believe there's one magic formula for parenting children, the reality is that our children's temperments run the gamut. Yes, they need to learn discipline, but they also need to challenge themselves to grow and become the unique adult they are meant to be. A skinned knee is indeed a blessing if it allows a child to test her limits safely.

One Orchid, One Dandelion

I don't usually write about my own children here. I tend to think of this blog as my "professional" writing space, and the "personal" stuff I put elsewhere.

But in reading David Dobbs' article in The Atlantic, I found my personal and professional selves were equally piqued. See, I have two daughters, both of whom are wonderful, loving, and endearing. And while they may look much alike from the outside, they could not be more different temperment-wise.

As an infant, the elder required at least 1-2 hours--and sometimes more--of nursing to fall asleep at night. At 20 months, she began crying at any song that was in a minor key. At 3 years-old, she recalls emotionally-stirring incidents that happened well over a year ago. She's my orchid.

Her younger sister is pure dandelion. At bedtime, you can lay her in her crib, she'll pop her two favorite fingers in her mouth, and within a few minutes, she'll be asleep. She weaned herself at about 8 months--just decided to move on one day. She just learned to climb the stairs on her own--not the way her sister learned, mind you: by trying and falling, mastering a few more, falling and trying again. Oh, no. She'd try one stair, fall down, and quit. She seemed content to remain downstairs until one day when she found she had mastered that first stair, she proceeded to climb the entire staircase. She wasn't willing to risk falling the way her sister did to master the skill. She also hasn't learned to walk at 12 months the way her sister did, or figure out how to jump out of her crib at 9 months. She's careful and cautious in a dandelion (and, admittedly, greatly-relieving-to-me) kind of way.

Before I had children, I really believed that environment--not genetics--had the greatest influence on who we become as people. Raising my daughters, however, it's unmistakable to me how parts of personality are hard-wired. Granted, I have a sample size of 2 for this study. And birth order, naturally, must play a part; but, my daughters were different babies in utero. We know the younger self-soothed with her fingers from her ultrasound pictures. Her older sister never seemed to learn to calm herself, was always dependent on her caregivers to help her. I don't know how else to explain these differences in personality other than through genetics.

I hadn't really reflected on it before, but I suppose I'm a different parent to each of them. I tend to think of them as a unit, "the girls," but I'm recognizing that my bond with each of them is different, is based on a unique set of needs and wants. In my coming posts, I hope to explore more the (sometimes ugly, sometimes lovely) truth of who I am as a parent to one orchid and one dandelion.

Raising Orchid Children

I just finished reading a fantastic article in The Atlantic by David Dobbs entitled, "Orchid Children." The "orchid hypothesis" of child development, as Dobbs explains, is quite similar to my own hypothesis about postpartum mood disorders: "Genetics loads the gun; environment pulls the trigger." In other words, genes are responsible for our sensitivity to mood problems, but it's the particular ecosystem in which we live that determines if mood problems develop.

Let me try to explain this "orchid hypothesis" that Dobbs reported on in the article. We all know someone who survived some terrible childhood trauma. This person may have survived verbal, physical, and/or sexual abuse. These people should be complete emotional messes as adults. And yet, maybe with therapy, maybe without therapy, they are pretty well-functioning adults. There's a whole sub-genre of memoirs out there written by such people. ("Once in a House on Fire" by Andrea Ashworth is a fine and much-recommended example.) These people, according to the hypothesis, would be called dandelions. They flourish under all kinds or stresses and in adverse environments, much like the dandelions in lawns--chemically-treated and otherwise--everywhere.

And then you have the orchids. Orchids are much more sensitive to their enviroment. They are highly reactive to even seemingly small amounts of stress. In children, they may be quick to throw tantrums; cry easily; hit, kick, punch or bite their parents or caregivers. In adults, "orchid-ness" often manifests itself as anxiety or depression.

So then, the theory goes, there are 2 types of the same gene that determines whether you have a "dandelion" or "orchid" temperment. You may be thinking it's better to get the "dandelion" variation over the "orchid" form, but it's not quite so simple.

A well-tended "orchid" when it blooms, blooms magnificently. When "orchids" are raised in highly responsive, stable, and emotionally-attunded ecosystems (which includes every caregiver with whom the child has contact), these children channel their propensity for risk and excitement in, well, exciting ways. You may know some of these people, too. They take on interesting and creative projects. They maintain a network of fun, diverse friends. They may be empathic beyond the norm. They have that vision thing, seeing possibilities where most see nothing at all.

So, this hypothesis has got me excited for all kinds of reasons. Here are some of the possible implications I've been thinking about: What if the orchid hypothesis also applies to parents who suffer postpartum mood disorders? Does being an "orchid parent" mean that recovery from ppmds or baby blues makes one a more intuitive, sensitive parent in the long run? In raising "orchid children," how do we best help them succeed? In successfully raising an orchid, do "dandelion siblings" reap benefits, or does the dandelion-parent bond suffer?

In my coming posts, I hope to explore all these (and more) questions further. In the meantime, peace to all the dandelions and orchids out there.

Play’s the Thing: Inoculate yourself and your relationship against the stress of parenting

Doctors are fond of saying to patients, “an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.” This same notion holds true for the health of family and couple relationships as well. Parenting is undoubtedly a rewarding and fulfilling endeavor, but it can also be a taxing and trying one—especially on a couple’s relationship. To help weather the ups and downs, couples would do well to take stock of the preventive methods they have at their disposal against parenting stress and burn-out.

Children innately know this idea that parents often have to re-learn: Every day should include time for play. Through play, one learns how to solve problems, cooperate, express creativity, and master new skills. Growth as individuals, couples, and families is predicated on constructive play. By following these three steps, couples will inoculate their relationship against the strains of parenthood.

1. Make time to be on your own
Spouses may want to choose a night that one can call her/his own. This “time off” is really “time on” to strengthen one’s sense of identity outside of the family, to engage in healthy activities, re-connect with friends, or simply decompress.

2. Make time to play as a family
Depending on the ages of the children, families can expect to find new and different ways of playing together as children grow. Parents of young children might enjoy outings to playgrounds, beaches, zoos or children’s museums. Sports events, video games, movies, hiking, or amusement parks are all fine ways of playing with older children. The key is to find activities everyone finds pleasant.

3. Make time to play as a couple
Couples often fall into the trap of thinking they need a babysitter to have a “date”. While a babysitter does make it easy to have time together as a couple, parents can also enjoy “stay-dates” by making time after the children are in bed to talk, massage each other’s shoulders, or listen to music that isn’t child-friendly. Parents would do well to check in with each other about how well they’re doing as individuals, a couple, and a family in ensuring everyone’s needs for separation and connection are being met.

Most parents recognize that their children’s job is to play. Making appointments to play alone, as a couple and as a family is harder to remember to do. Parents would do well, however, when scheduling their children’s play-dates to make sure their scheduling their own as well.

Intentional Fathering Lecture at Mosaic Coffeehouse on Sept. 30

Postpartum Support International of Washington presents an evening with psychotherapist Derek Trlica, MA, LMHC on intentional fathering at Mosaic Coffeehouse on Sept. 30. Burning questions to be answered include: What kind of father would I like to be? How do other dads do it? What might stop me from being a good father?

Here are the deets: Mosaic Coffeehouse is located at 4401 2nd Ave. NE. in the Wallingford neighborhood of Seattle. The lecture is scheduled for Sept. 30, 7:00-8:30 p.m. A $5 donation is suggested to benefit PSI of WA. RSVP to 1-888-404-7763 or heidikossnobel@comcast.com.

When the "Home Game" Isn't Dad's "A Game"

I heard Michael Lewis, author of "Home Game," interviewed on Charlie Rose today. While a number of women have come forward about their feelings of numbness after the birth of their children (Brooke Shields, most notably, comes to mind), men have been virtually silent on the issue. It was so refreshing to hear this interview where Lewis confesses, despite the social pressure to remain silent, that he did not feel instant love for his newborn. He shares how he eventually came to love his baby, but only after the fog of sleep deprivation and new parent anxiety lifted. An important new book has arrived just in time for Father's Day.

The Stuff of Life

I was visiting a friend the other day who, much to my surprise, treated me to a delicious loaf of freshly-baked bread. Now, the surprise wasn't so much in the bread itself--it was the manner in which the bread was made. My friend has two very busy and active boys under the age of 3. And yet, at 11:30 on a weekday morning, she was pulling out two beautiful loaves of hearty bread out of her oven.

How on Earth did she do it, I wondered. She explained that she can have that feeling of being away from her children, yet still be close enough to intervene with them if necessary. When she's kneading the dough, she can have a meditative moment while still observing the busy movements of her boys around her.

I found this an apt metaphor for coping with other "distracting" forces, such as depression or anxiety. The "noisiness" of anxiety or depression can demand much of one's attention, but when engaged in such meditation, as in kneading bread, we can observe its play from a distance. By achieving such space, one can come away with a deep sense of renewal and satisfaction.

I am already thinking about what I want to bake when I need a moment of solitude among the noise. I'm feeling inspired by Orangette's recipe for Everyday Cake. Even though she's taking a break right now, this Seattle food blogger has a wonderful index of recipes from which you might find your own domestic respite.

Sometimes You Just Need to Sleep it Off

I read this article in the Globe and Mail about getting sleep with a new baby. Sometimes the best medicine requires you to forget what you read in all those well-intentioned sleep books and just use your intuition about what's right for you and your family. (Full disclosure: my own 4 month-old is asleep on the couch in the other room as I write this entry. Never wake a sleeping baby, right?)

Here's to a good night's sleep for everybody!

Making the Parent-Track the Fast Track

Hearing the news that Caroline Kennedy had withdrawn her name as a possible successor to Hilary Clinton in the Senate reminded me of an essay I read by the fantastic New York Times work/family life writer Lisa Belkin. Belkin argues that "experience" only counts on a resume if it's "work" experience. Work done outside of a job, say, serving on a board or volunteering at a child's school is valued less when interviewing for a paid job. Inherent in this assumption is that unpaid work experiences are less valuable than paid ones. Yet, the skills gained in these volunteer experienced could prove incredibly useful to employers. A parent who starts a club or program at a school knows something about doing research, working collaboratively with other stakeholders, and responding to feedback. In organizing a fundraiser, parents learn about marketing, soliciting community members, and event coordination. To my mind, these seem like directly applicable (paid) job skills.

When parents consult with me about leaving or re-joing the (paid) workforce, I hear a great deal of anxiety in these decisions. How will this time away from paid work be viewed? Will I be considered for jobs after an extended absence?

It seems to me that we as parents need to better articulate what we've gained from parenting and translate that experience into terms employers can understand. Our parenthood can make us more efficient at work (all the better to get home to our families sooner.) We are better at hearing out differences in opinion. We can adjust to change more easily.

There are a host of intangible benefits to parenting. And some of these intangibles can have real value in the marketplace of paid work. We as parents need to start talking as our "time off" with kids as "time on." As Belkin says, "But let’s stop with this talk of inexperience when we mean a range of experiences, many shaped by motherhood. The only way work will become more flexible for everyone, for all of us, is if the untraditional begins to count."

How to Be a Supportive Partner to a Person with a Mood Disorder

Jon (whose wife Heather writes the very popular "Dooce" blog) wrote an insightful post about how he's learned to care for himself and his family when depression tries to get the best of Heather (and in turn, the rest of their family). His story is a must-read for partners who want to be supportive but aren't sure how best to go about it.

Why Parenthood Counts on a (Political) Resume

Putting political beliefs aside for a moment, I want to address this notion that Sarah Palin is not qualified for the vice presidency because she is raising five kids while serving as Alaska's governor. For once, I would like to hear anyone acknowledge that working parenthood paired with public service is EXCELLENT preparation for higher office. A working parent of five knows something about diplomacy. (e.g. "Those are my Legos!" "No, they're mine!") She must also be able to conduct research on a variety of subjects (e.g. which schools and teachers are best for her kids). She must be able to follow detailed itineraries (knowing when and where to pick up and drop off kids at sports practice, music lessons, playdates, and child care.) And it goes without saying that she is well-practiced in areas of patience, empathy, and discipline. While I may not agree with the substance of her beliefs (uh, Sarah, that abstinence stance really doesn't seem to be working out for ya...), I cannot argue that she lacks the organizational wherewithal to pull off the job. It's time to put aside the notion that parenthood only prepares one for the duties of home and family life. Indeed, the lessons learned are applicable to other esteemed offices.

Sharing Parenting Equally

In this Sunday's New York Times Magazine, Lisa Belkin wrote a thought-provoking article on "equally shared parenting." The concept behind equally shared parenting is just as it sounds: each parents spends as much time contributing to work, home, and family as the other. While I commend the parents who are engaging in this arrangement, I couldn't help but wonder about the details. How exactly does one track every single contribution in the work, home, and family categories? How does one weigh tasks that are more burdensome than others? Reading about the featured couples, it seemed to me that this arrangement could open itself up to persistent arguments over the division of labor.

One mother, whose family eventually opted out of equally shared parenting, had this to say about her family's experience: "The question should not be, Is it all exactly equal, but, What is best for all of us as a group right now?...If we decide it's really important that we are 50-50 on everything, we would work on that. If we decide it's really important that we be close to family, then we work on that."

Now, that sounds like an arrangement I could live with.

You Need a PPMD Like You Need a Knife in the Head

Penelope Trunk writes in her Brazen Careerist blog about how she didn't realize she was suffering from a Post-Partum Mood Disorder until she stabbed herself in the head with a kitchen knife. She advises that every working mom (and every parent is a working parent) surround herself with a strong support network. And if you don't have pre-existing supports, by all means, hire them! As Penelope says, "I cut corners on things that I thought I could handle but couldn’t. And the biggest thing, in hindsight, that I thought I could handle, was being a working mom with no support system. No one can do that and stay sane." Amen to that, Penelope!