How to connect with an uncooperative 8-year-old

Q. I have an 8-year-old girl who loves to turn on the passive aggression when she doesn’t get what she wants. It usually occurs when we need to go somewhere, often walking to school with her younger sister. The catalyst can be having to wear gym shoes because it’s a PE day. (Tantrum ensues, it takes 10 minutes to put on her shoes, she walks really slowly and acts as if I don’t exist while walking two blocks to school, nothing motivates her to get moving.) Or the girls get ready early and have 10 minutes to watch TV, but she doesn’t get the show she wants, a tantrum takes 10 minutes, followed by the same walking-slow routine. Today she held up a neighbor who was trying to get out of her driveway. She asked my daughter to walk out of the way, but my girl kept up the baby-steps routine. Once at school, she didn’t want to join the kids, was grumpy and wouldn’t talk to me. I had to offer to get a teacher to help her before she went to the right place. Finally, she started coming around and would hug me and join the circle. How do I handle this?

A. First, you have all of my empathy. Nothing boils my own parenting blood like one of my children poking along, ignoring my pleas and commands, mucking up the works completely. I think I see red, literally. It has taken me a long time to understand what all of this means and find my own way through it. You will not be any different — meaning you will find your own way through this, and it will come with some healthy discomfort.

For now, let’s try to figure out what this is all about. Why do children do this? In one word: discouragement. When I see this uncooperativeness, my guess is that your daughter is deeply discouraged. What does “discouraged” mean when it comes to children’s behavior? Well, when I see a discouraged child, I see a child who is having some connection issues in her relationships. She fights you at every turn, over the small and the big, and no matter what you do, you can’t seem to get traction or cooperation.

I can feel you panicking when you read that. “Meghan, are you saying that I am not well connected to my child?” Not necessarily. Let me explain:

Why do children cooperate for their parents? Why do they walk up the hill to school when asked? Why do they move out of the way when requested to do so? It depends on two main factors: maturity and connection.

 

The younger the children, the less mature. The less mature, the less likely they are to cooperate. Why? They don’t understand your perspective, they are easily distracted by other things they like to do better, and they are a little self-centered. Does this mean young children don’t want to please? Oh, no, they do! They love to help and do and be like you, but this is not true cooperation. This is just their normal development. As they near the age of 7 (usually, but not always), you begin to see their young minds clicking away and their prefrontal cortex assessing the cooperative process, holding many emotions and thoughts, and making more mature decisions.

So, when it comes to cooperation, what is stopping your daughter? She is of the age about which many people would say, “She is too old for behavior like this.” You may even be thinking this. So, here’s a little something I want you to write on a sticky note and hang it where you can read it. Often. “Every human cooperates for those she feels connected to.”

Think about it. A school mom has called, needing your help in the classroom. Her tone is formal, and although she is utterly polite, the feeling is impersonal. Off the bat, I would say no, and you might, too. Or even if I did say yes, I would feel a little resentful. But let’s say your best friend calls and asks you for help, and it is a pretty big ask. Driving her parents to the airport. Taking her kids overnight. Your answer? “Of course, whatever you need.”

What is the difference in the two asks? Connection. When a person close to our heart needs something, we are impelled to do it. Our hearts and our brains want to do it. When we help someone we are not connected to, we are compelled to do it (which is to mean that we may feel coerced, pushed, obliged). This is such a crucial difference that everything hangs in the balance.

Your daughter is not cooperating because she doesn’t have a reason to cooperate. She is going to get your attention one way or another, and her hurting heart is getting it through fights. What she wants badly is for you to hold on to her and not let her go, but her behavior leads you to do the opposite. You push, you drag, you force. The more this happens, the needier she gets. The more needy she becomes, the worse the behavior becomes. It is a cycle of frustration that sees no end in sight.

But she doesn’t want this. Children are not programmed to be emotionally and physically apart from those they love (at least, not like this). Your daughter wants to cooperate, she just doesn’t know what else to do. She doesn’t have the maturity to say, “Mom, I love you, and I need you to see me. I need you to hold me more. I need you to laugh and stop your angry face. I am afraid you think I am bad. I am afraid I am bad. I am afraid you love my sister more.” She can’t say these things because she is too young.

But there are some simple, effective and clear repairs here. Note I did not say “quick.” Anything you do to change your relationship is worthwhile and must land on your daughter in the manner it needs to. You are not in charge of this timing, and while this can be frustrating, knowing this can be freeing.

Let’s get a list going. (I love a list.)

1. Stop talking about what isn’t working. I think everyone in the family knows what isn’t working, and drawing more attention to it with language is not helping.

2. Have faith in your heart and soul that she wants to do and be better. That she wants to be a child who cooperates. Say that to her. Say, “I know your heart. I know what a great girl you are.” Despite all evidence to the contrary, you must say it. If you can’t keep the faith, who can?

3. Create opportunities for her to succeed. It really doesn’t matter how small or insignificant it may be, any positivity is a pivot in the right direction. Do not expect her to wake up one morning and change. You must create situations where she is noticed for her kindness, cooperation and essentially, the fact that she is alive and deserving of love.

4. Highlight when something goes well, but don’t get “cheerlead-y.” You don’t want to praise and become too obvious about what is going well; you simply want to notice and thank her when she demonstrates cooperation. Think quiet talks at bedtime or in the car. Like Fonzie, “be cool.”
5. Above all, create time and space where you look into her eyes and listen to her. Whether that is in the library, hiking, snuggling, playing sports, actively create times where she is away from her sister and feels valued. These are not times to teach or lecture. This is about you understanding what makes her tick.

Note that I say nothing about discipline and consequences. I strongly suggest you not take a punitive angle here. It will further distance you from her, hampering your ability to have a good influence on her. To reach her heart, you must access it with kindness and gentleness. Does that mean she doesn’t need to be moved along? She does. Just do it as wordlessly and as kindly as you can. If she is crying or angry, so be it. Just don’t pile on with lectures, threats, bribes or anger. Easier said than done, but alas, that is life.

Meghan is the mother of three daughters. She holds a bachelor’s degree in English and secondary education, a master’s degree in school counseling and is a certified parent coach.

Reaching my autistic son through music

Because he does not speak, and most likely never will, my son Dominic and I communicate through music.

It began as an early act of desperation, as we drove home from the hospital, two exhausted parents and one round, red-faced baby, crying inconsolably in his car seat. I cushioned my belly full of staples and leaned forward to turn up the car radio, helpless and desperate to calm my 2-day-old’s sobs. Within the first few bars of music from the oldies station, my son closed his eyes and slept a placid sleep. It was the most peaceful I had seen him since he had emerged from my womb. And it was the first time since his birth that I, too, could close my eyes.

As the first few weeks of Dominic’s life unfolded, he became an expert at crying. As morning stretched into afternoon, he was impossible to satiate. His sobs weaved into the soft strains of the evening and later, they followed me unshakably, as I paced his bedroom, cradling his small shape in the night-time darkness. So I took comfort under a blanket of music, covering the house at all times, to soften the blows of his screams and to keep me from losing my mind. It quickly seemed that the music was the only way to calm us both. And the more the music seemed to calm us, the more I played it.

At first, it was Chopin, because his piano nocturnes took me from the nursery, into 19th century Paris and far away from the painful feedings. But as Dominic was awake more during the day, I experimented. We tried pop and old school R&B; we moved on to soundtracks. Often my husband would leave the baby and me for work in the morning, the strains of “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat” trailing him out the door and he would return, 10 hours later, to the imposing beat of the “Imperial Death March” echoing on the walls.

Shhh, I would whisper to my husband, holding up my hand, as he walked into our apartment. The baby really likes this part.

There was a certain absurdity in trying to cater to the musical tastes of a 4-month-old, but I was sleep-deprived, desperate and hormonal. And I quickly learned that my son Dominic was not an average baby. I lived in a constant state of mothering crisis management, anything that would give me a respite from the screaming was something I was willing to try. And as long as the music worked, I would use it. I soon learned that his favorite song was “Danny Boy,” the Bing Crosby version. Within the first few opening notes, my son would always turn and face me, his eyes wide open and a dreamy look on his small face. I had no idea where Dominic went, inside himself, when I played this song for him, but he went somewhere wonderful. I was his mother, and even though we could not communicate with words, I knew the music was his escape from a very confusing world.

As the months passed, I began to understand there was something very wrong with my boy. Even as his excessive crying dissipated, he missed milestones at a concerning rate.  There were no first smiles, no laughing, not one word. While he would go silent and starry-eyed at the first strains of Danny Boy, Dominic would still not say “mama” or shake his head to say “no.” Months turned to years, soundtracks turned to old jazz standards, and my fears turned to heavy, tangible concerns. The first time the doctor used the word autism I actually felt a flood of relief. Now that I had a name for what was wrong, I could find a way to make it better.

Except it didn’t get better. While the crying lessened as he grew into childhood, the frustration grew too, for us both. My son was frustrated that he couldn’t tell me what he wanted, that I did not just know what he needed without words. And I was frustrated because I couldn’t find a way to make him understand just how hard I was trying to understand him. 

So we relied on the music to speak to one another. In the supermarket, as he scrunched up his eyes and arched his back at the glaring, bright lights and the noise of the other people, I would lean in and put my mouth to his ear. “Oh, Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling.” And as though it quieted the pain in his head, he would hold my face in his sticky hands and listen to me sing. While strangers watched and wondered, I pushed the cart defiantly and sang that song until my basket was full and my throat was dry.

He is 12 now, my silent boy. He doesn’t cry much anymore, nor does he say, “Mom, I need $10 for the movies” like other boys his age. He never said “mom” at all —because of his autism, he can’t speak very much. But it doesn’t bother me much, anymore, really. It is what it is. And I know how to calm him, I know what gives Dominic joy.

At night, I will hear the faint strains of Chopin slipping out from under his bedroom door and I will think of holding his small body, staring up at the moon in the middle of one of those first sleepless nights. I will play his favorite soundtrack in the car as we go speeding down the expressway, and take pleasure in the way he loves to roll the window down and let the wind whip through our hair.

Sometimes, when I am feeling nostalgic and missing a time in my life that I never thought I would miss, I will load up “Danny Boy” on the stereo. And wherever he is in the house, Dominic will find me. He will come and listen, with the same wide eyes and the same dreamy look I remember. And then, he always goes to that somewhere, far off place inside himself. “Oh, Danny Boy, The pipes, the pipes are calling. From glen to glen and down the mountainside. The summer’s gone, and all the roses falling. It’s you, it’s you must go and I must bide.”

I do not know if he understands that this song was part of the earliest language we spoke, as a mother and a child. Nor do I know where he goes, when he loses himself in the music.

I just know that as long as we share it, as long as we have the music between us, he will always take a part of me with him.

And I know I want to go where Dominic goes, whenever the music plays.

Nicole Jankowski is a mom of four kids and two awesome stepkids, a divorcee and a writer. Read about her experiences with autism, addiction, and awesomeness at www.momof4istired.com or on Facebook and Twitter.

What happened when our family created a new holiday (hint: you might want to try the same)

“Let’s make a new holiday,” my older son said one night while we were finishing up with a bath.

“What kind of holiday?” I asked. I was skeptical. Between birthdays and anniversaries, hallmark holidays and days-off-school holidays, candy-laden holidays and gift-giving holidays, our calendar is already pretty saturated with celebrations. Frankly, after a while, they all seem to blend into a blur of sugar-glazed parties to cover up all the inherent stress and chores, unrealistic expectations and shortcomings.

“We’ll draw names and exchange small gifts with each other, spend time together doing something fun,” my son suggested. “And then just continue on with our normal day.”

I stared at him. “Huh?”

“Just small little gifts…like maybe a book or something?”

I stared at him some more. He dried off, put on his pajamas, and wroteGiving Day in big letters on the calendar.

Over the next few days, we talked about what Giving Day would look like. We would draw names and give a small gift, either inexpensive or handmade. We would do something together as family. And we would volunteer or give to someone outside of the family. Giving Day would be about giving, not about getting. As an aspiring minimalist, the last thing I want is more “stuff” in the house, much less another chore on our already-too-long list of obligations. And I desperately wanted to prevent Giving Day from turning into a Buy-Me-Something Day.

Our first Giving Day was about six months ago, and true to form, not once has our new holiday gone according to plan. In fact, in many ways, Giving Day has been a comedy of errors. There were loud grumbles and fights when the boys delivered their homemade cookies to the neighbors in the rain. Our plans to volunteer as a family were derailed when our water heater broke and my husband had to stay home to wait for the plumber. My younger son cried when his brother’s hand-drawn picture wasn’t what he hoped it would be. And when we tried to pay for someone’s meal anonymously, the restaurant blew our cover and the whole thing was more than a little awkward.

In the past few months, Giving Day has slipped off its monthly place on the calendar and become more of a whenever-we-get-our-act-together holiday. It seems that I’m not only failing at the compulsory holidays anymore; now I’m failing at our own made-up holidays too.

In an odd way, however, our Giving Day debacles and snafus seem rather fitting and appropriate. Like most holidays, the reality of Giving Day rarely lives up to the idea of it, but in many ways it represents everything I want to teach my children about holidays, generosity, and family.

Giving Day is flawed, messy, and imperfect. We bump elbows and get on each other’s nerves, but for a day, we show up, bring our whole selves, and spend time together. We fall short of our expectations, but we try again next time. We give awkwardly, but enthusiastically and with a full heart. After all, isn’t that what the holidays are about?

A lawyer-turned-writer, Christine is the author of Open Boxes: the gifts of living a full and connected life. She writes at www.christineorgan.com and you can also find her on Facebook and Twitter.

8 Quick Brain Teasers to Challenge Your Attention and Memory

Look­ing for some fun, and free, cog­ni­tive stim­u­la­tion this Decem­ber? Here you have a few quick brain teasers to challenge your atten­tion and your work­ing mem­ory-the abil­ity to keep infor­ma­tion in your mind while work­ing on inte­grat­ing, pro­cess­ing it.

Given them a good try...they are not as easy as they may seem.

1. Say the days of the week back­wards, then in alpha­bet­i­cal order.
2. Speak other lan­guages? Try doing the same in Span­ish, French, Mandarin...
3. Say the months of the year in alpha­bet­i­cal order.
4. Easy? Well, why don't you try doing so back­wards, in reverse alpha­bet­i­cal order.
5. Find the sum of your date of birth, mm/dd/yyyy.
6. Want a tougher mind teaser? Do the same with your spouse's or best friend's date of birth (with­out look­ing it up...)
7. Name two objects for every let­ter in your first name. Work up to five objects, try­ing to use dif­fer­ent items each time.
8. Look around wher­ever you are and, within two min­utes, try to find 5 red things that will fit in your pock­ets, and 5 blue objects that are too big to fit.

I hope you have enjoyed these quick mind teasers. If you still want more, please visit SharpBrains' page with brain teasers, brain games and illu­sions. Free, and fun for adults of any age!

Follow Alvaro Fernandez on Twitter: www.twitter.com/alvarof

How Your Sleep Position Could Affect Your Brain

By Neha Kashyap, dailyRx News Reporter

Are you a back or a stomach sleeper? The way you sleep may be linked to the likelihood of neurological decline.

Researchers from Stony Brook University found that side sleeping, compared to back or stomach sleeping, may more effectively remove brain waste and reduce the risk of Alzheimer's, Parkinson's and other neurological diseases.

At this time, the research has been conducted only in mice.

"It is interesting that the lateral (side) sleep position is already the most popular in human and most animals -- even in the wild -- and it appears that we have adapted the lateral sleep position to most efficiently clear our brain of the metabolic waste products that built up while we are awake," said study co-author Maiken Nedergaard, PhD, a professor of neurosurgery at the University of Rochester Medical Center, in apress release.

The brain's cleansing process, called the glymphatic system, clears waste when cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) filters through the brain and exchanges with interstitial fluid (ISF).

This process is similar to the way the body's lymphatic system clears waste from the organs. It is most efficient during sleep.

Brain waste includes amyloid and tau proteins, chemicals that can negatively affect brain processes if they build up. If this waste is not properly disposed of, the chances of neurological diseases can increase.

Alzheimer's disease is an irreversible, progressive brain disorder that slowly destroys memory and thinking skills. Parkinson's disease is a brain disorder that leads to shaking, stiffness and difficulties with walking, balance and coordination.

Dr. Nedergaard and team used magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) to observe the glymphatic system.

The brains of the mice who slept in a lateral (side) position were found to more efficiently remove waste when compared to the brains of supine (facing upward) or prone (facing downward) mice.

"The study therefore adds further support to the concept that sleep serves a distinct biological function and that is to 'clean up' the mess that accumulates while we are awake," Dr. Nedergaard said.

Although human studies are still needed to confirm these findings, this experiment brings new insight on how sleep position affects the brain.

This study was published August 4 in the Journal of Neuroscience.

Information on funding sources and conflicts of interest were not available at time of publication.