postcards for parents

Greetings!

Yesterday I spent well over an hour at my daughter's side, 
holding her hand while she received some extensive dental work.  

They gave her pink plastic sunglasses to protect her eyes from the 
harsh spotlight, and every so often I'd see a tear trickle out the 
side and roll down into her ear.  She wasn't in pain - the dentist 
made sure of that - but she was definitely in distress.  

And there wasn't a thing I could do to rescue her, short of scooping 
her up in my arms and leaving, which of course would not have served 
her in the long run.  Thanks to the miracle of modern dentistry, she 
would be walking out of this appointment with fully restored teeth, 
and extra protection from future decay.  Leaving before the procedures 
were finished was simply not an option, and we both knew it.

The receptionist, bless her heart, brought me a glass of water 
halfway through, and commented that this is often as hard on the 
parent as it is on the child.  I chose not to pry my hands free 
of my daughter's vice-like grip in order to drink it.  

Ninety minutes later, she left the office with 2 huge fillings, 
4 sealants, and a cheap plastic toy from the treasure chest.  
I left the office with fingernail marks on my hands and a 
raging headache.

The fingernail marks made sense, but why the headache?  My reaction 
felt extreme to me ... outside the limits of that normal parental 
empathy which the receptionist sees all the time, and into some 
other territory.  

I came home to find this waiting in my email inbox:  

You can't hide from adversity. You can't hide your children from 
life's ups and downs. The ones who achieve do so by experiencing 
and conquering obstacles ... even from their childhood days. These 
are the ones who were never denied their right to face some struggle, 
some adversity. Others were, in reality, cheated. Those who attempted 
to shelter their children from every conceivable germ in our 
society ... never really inoculated them from fear, worry and 
the feeling of dependency. Not at all.

(Summary was created by Julie Leong and reflects many direct quotes 
from the book The Millionaire Next Door - The Surprising Secrets of 
America's Wealthy  by Thomas J. Stanley, Ph.D., and William D. 
Danko, Ph.D.)

oh.  

My maternal Achilles heel took a direct hit.  

I hate to see my kids suffer.  Whenever possible I try to shelter 
them from pain.  

I sheepishly admit that I've spent a great deal of energy over the 
past 10 years protecting my kids from all kinds of things - television, 
violence, junk food, and emotional pain.  Because I was (am?) quite 
the control-meister, I was actually successful in sheltering them 
most of the time. 

And then things like divorce and dental work and public school came 
along; experiences that penetrated my carefully constructed shield.  
I could not prevent their impact.  I lost control of the input valve, 
and pain and suffering flowed in.

And this is a good thing. 

Because when I try to protect my kids from adversity, I am giving them 
the message that I'm afraid they can't handle it.  This doesn't have 
anything to do with them, but rather with the fact that I see my kids 
through lenses colored with my own inadequacies.  

A counselor once told me that people are only afraid of problems and 
changes if they are not confident in their ability to create solutions 
and do not trust in their resilience.  Yup, that sounds like me all 
right!  I'd rather run and hide than face certain types of challenges.  
I'll do almost anything to avoid pain.

As usually happens, I've been unconsciously passing my fear on to my 
kids.  I left their training wheels on far too long.  I catered to 
their fears instead of affirming their creativity and strength and 
ability to cope.  

So now that I see this, I've decided to send a new message:  whatever 
challenges they face, I have great confidence in their ability to come 
through the struggle and arrive safely at the other side, smarter and 
stronger from the experience.   

I'll still be a watchdog, but I'll be watching for demonstrations of 
resilience, creativity and strength.  And I'll focus on those qualities 
and reinforce them.  

Starting right now, I'll be grateful for the resilience which will 
allow this change to make a difference in our lives.  

All that's required for a light to shine again is for the cover to 
be removed from it.  Their coping skills have been patiently waiting 
for me to remove the cover.  No permanent harm done.  
They'll bounce back. 

Wow, I think it's working already!  

take care,

karen