behaviour
Can a foster parent ‘over-advocate’ for their foster child?
30/12/2009 23:57
We follow a number of online forums and this came up over at www.fostercarecentral.com. A carer posted that they’d been told they ‘over-advocated’ for their foster child.
Over-advocate? That seems to be legal-speak creeping into the child services area. We are sure we could find some plain english expressions that are much clearer and, quite frankly, a whole lot more honest.
‘An advocate is someone who speaks on behalf of another person, especially in a legal context. … Implicit in the concept is the notion that the represented lacks the knowledge, skill, ability, or standing to speak for themselves.’ (Wikipedia)
So let’s be honest and decipher what that term might mean. As a foster parent, you attend case conferences, and talk with social workers on behalf of your foster child. Depending on their age or their circumstances they might lack the knowledge, skill, ability, maturity or capability to speak on their own behalf.
Can a carer ‘over-speak’, or ‘over-represent’? Are we saying more than we should?
We’d love to hear an honest debate on this one. We’d like to ask the social workers whether they are saying that we aren’t educated or qualified or experienced enough to make a contribution to the discussion about the child’s needs?
Or are they saying that we simply don’t have the right to contribute? Is our role to provide a home and care but leave the decision making to the ‘system’?
Sadly, this sounds like a turf war.
If the social welfare profession is so precious that outspoken foster parents cause grief, then we really need an overhaul. Business deals with outspoken, opinionated customers and shareholders all the time. We judge their contribution according to their talents, but we don’t – and can’t – prevent them from having their say.
We’ve had workers who spent a great deal of energy telling us, with diminishing degrees of politeness, to shut up and get back in our box. We had a role to play, designated by the system, and they were thoroughly annoyed that we didn’t stick to the script.
But interestingly, it’s our willingness to step outside ‘our role’ that sees us maintaining contact with children formerly in our care, long after they have become adults. It’s why we stepped up to help them ‘age out’ of foster care (emotionally, financially and with life skills), when the system, previous carers, and all those passionate social workers had left the scene.
If we applied some innovative thinking to the issue, then maybe the passion with which carers might speak on behalf of a child is a good thing? Business has long recognised that divergent viewpoints and passionate debate, if managed well, drive much better results.
So it gets down to frontline training. In all fairness we believe social workers have a large range of stakeholders to deal with – from authorities, to birth families, to agencies, to carers and beyond. But there are other professions that deal with such a range. The ability to manage people is not taught at university (and if anyone tells you it was, or is, they are lying). It is learned on the job, over many years, and requires both an interest in people and a willingness to be self-aware. Too often the fundamental skill that underpins both of those elements – listening – is absent.
So, listen up. We’ll over-advocate for the Camper as long as we can breathe.
(If you are a carer about to provide care, you might like to print these bullet points out, amend or add to them to reflect what you think you bring to the placements, and give them to your worker.)
And if doing any of that is a challenge, we suggest a great deal more training is needed. We’re happy to assist.
Over-advocate? That seems to be legal-speak creeping into the child services area. We are sure we could find some plain english expressions that are much clearer and, quite frankly, a whole lot more honest.
‘An advocate is someone who speaks on behalf of another person, especially in a legal context. … Implicit in the concept is the notion that the represented lacks the knowledge, skill, ability, or standing to speak for themselves.’ (Wikipedia)
So let’s be honest and decipher what that term might mean. As a foster parent, you attend case conferences, and talk with social workers on behalf of your foster child. Depending on their age or their circumstances they might lack the knowledge, skill, ability, maturity or capability to speak on their own behalf.
Can a carer ‘over-speak’, or ‘over-represent’? Are we saying more than we should?
We’d love to hear an honest debate on this one. We’d like to ask the social workers whether they are saying that we aren’t educated or qualified or experienced enough to make a contribution to the discussion about the child’s needs?
Or are they saying that we simply don’t have the right to contribute? Is our role to provide a home and care but leave the decision making to the ‘system’?
Sadly, this sounds like a turf war.
If the social welfare profession is so precious that outspoken foster parents cause grief, then we really need an overhaul. Business deals with outspoken, opinionated customers and shareholders all the time. We judge their contribution according to their talents, but we don’t – and can’t – prevent them from having their say.
We’ve had workers who spent a great deal of energy telling us, with diminishing degrees of politeness, to shut up and get back in our box. We had a role to play, designated by the system, and they were thoroughly annoyed that we didn’t stick to the script.
But interestingly, it’s our willingness to step outside ‘our role’ that sees us maintaining contact with children formerly in our care, long after they have become adults. It’s why we stepped up to help them ‘age out’ of foster care (emotionally, financially and with life skills), when the system, previous carers, and all those passionate social workers had left the scene.
If we applied some innovative thinking to the issue, then maybe the passion with which carers might speak on behalf of a child is a good thing? Business has long recognised that divergent viewpoints and passionate debate, if managed well, drive much better results.
So it gets down to frontline training. In all fairness we believe social workers have a large range of stakeholders to deal with – from authorities, to birth families, to agencies, to carers and beyond. But there are other professions that deal with such a range. The ability to manage people is not taught at university (and if anyone tells you it was, or is, they are lying). It is learned on the job, over many years, and requires both an interest in people and a willingness to be self-aware. Too often the fundamental skill that underpins both of those elements – listening – is absent.
So, listen up. We’ll over-advocate for the Camper as long as we can breathe.
(If you are a carer about to provide care, you might like to print these bullet points out, amend or add to them to reflect what you think you bring to the placements, and give them to your worker.)
- We will challenge you on decisions, and we will give you our well thought out opinion on what we see the child going through.
- We will raise issues and suggest decisions that need to be made for you to give us feedback on.
- We will tell you politely if we think you are wrong, and we will become less polite if you ignore us.
- We will expect you to be skilled enough to see the love/compassion we have for this child and understand the depth of our care for the child.
- As time goes by we will expect you to be skilled enough to see the love this child has for us, or the reliance they place on us, and take that into account.
- We don’t accept there is any ‘mark’ to overstep so we will have no tolerance for you complaining, overtly or covertly, about us doing that.
- We will expect that you, as the professional you hold yourself out to be, will be able to assess us and judge us and manage us and collaborate with us.
And if doing any of that is a challenge, we suggest a great deal more training is needed. We’re happy to assist.
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You can't force a relationship
22/09/2009 21:59
‘THE Family Court has warned separated parents that they are required to hand over children for access visits, whether the children want to go or not.
While parents don't have to "physically drag" the children to the other parent, they do have to "positively encourage" them to go, and punish those who refuse.’
This quote is from an article in The Australian. The Family Court is saying that a parent should punish a child who refuses to abide by any orders made about their access with other parents. If ever there was an example of parental rights walking rough-shod over the well-being of a child, and enshrined in law, this is it.
So it struck a chord with us. Because at some stage your foster child might not want to go to a contact visit to meet with members of their birth family.
Their reaction, and how you and the support network handles it, will depend on the child, the birth family, and the stage of understanding and development the child is at. It will also depend on how skilled your social worker is, and what the social worker’s agenda is.
The article bothers us, not least because a Family Court Judge appears to be slavishly adopting what we have come to think of as dodgy law. Law becomes dodgy when it is high-jacked by interest groups, and driven by a political agenda.
It bothers us because, as Pragnell says, ‘how can it be in (a child’s) best interests to force them into a relationship?’
We’ve seen social workers ‘play God’ (and we don’t use that expression lightly) with foster children’s relationships for many, many years. We’ve seen foster families denied any follow up relationship with a foster child after a placement has ended, despite the fact that relationship was the longest and most stable of the child’s life. And we’ve experienced contact visits with birth family being managed aggressively by the social workers.
You can’t force a relationship.
Here’s what can happen if a foster child is forced into a relationship:
But the system should tread softly for the children’s sake. There are no hard and fast rules or policy, not if you accept that every child is an individual. What is in the child’s best interest at that point in time, considering their age, circumstances, development and security, should prevail.
What should you, as a foster parent, do in these circumstances if you see a relationship being forced? Stand up for your foster child. Support what you think is best for them. Fight if you have to. We’ve done it.
While parents don't have to "physically drag" the children to the other parent, they do have to "positively encourage" them to go, and punish those who refuse.’
This quote is from an article in The Australian. The Family Court is saying that a parent should punish a child who refuses to abide by any orders made about their access with other parents. If ever there was an example of parental rights walking rough-shod over the well-being of a child, and enshrined in law, this is it.
So it struck a chord with us. Because at some stage your foster child might not want to go to a contact visit to meet with members of their birth family.
Their reaction, and how you and the support network handles it, will depend on the child, the birth family, and the stage of understanding and development the child is at. It will also depend on how skilled your social worker is, and what the social worker’s agenda is.
The article bothers us, not least because a Family Court Judge appears to be slavishly adopting what we have come to think of as dodgy law. Law becomes dodgy when it is high-jacked by interest groups, and driven by a political agenda.
It bothers us because, as Pragnell says, ‘how can it be in (a child’s) best interests to force them into a relationship?’
We’ve seen social workers ‘play God’ (and we don’t use that expression lightly) with foster children’s relationships for many, many years. We’ve seen foster families denied any follow up relationship with a foster child after a placement has ended, despite the fact that relationship was the longest and most stable of the child’s life. And we’ve experienced contact visits with birth family being managed aggressively by the social workers.
- Members of the foster family were told not to attend. This was despite the fact that the Camper was drawing great comfort and stability from the newly forming foster relationships, and needed them even more when confronted by birth family.
- Any and all members of birth family were entitled to turn up, no notice required. So when the Camper was dealing with who her birth family members were and the part they played in her life, another one would appear.
- Social workers forced intervention between the Camper and members of the birth family. There were instructions to hug, play, undertake activities. When it wasn’t happening sufficiently, the social workers took over, running the visit. The look on the Camper’s face when told, by essentially a stranger, to hug another stranger, would have been funny were it not so distressing.
You can’t force a relationship.
Here’s what can happen if a foster child is forced into a relationship:
- You run the risk of alienating the child towards their birth family.
- Pushing an aggressive agenda of interaction risks the child losing trust in the social worker.
- Forcing a relationship between foster child and birth family risks the child losing faith in their foster parent. ‘You’re not in control of this’ they will say to you. ‘You can’t help me’.
But the system should tread softly for the children’s sake. There are no hard and fast rules or policy, not if you accept that every child is an individual. What is in the child’s best interest at that point in time, considering their age, circumstances, development and security, should prevail.
What should you, as a foster parent, do in these circumstances if you see a relationship being forced? Stand up for your foster child. Support what you think is best for them. Fight if you have to. We’ve done it.
Children's sense of time
09/09/2009 22:23
Continuing our series from the American Academy of Pediatrics article.
This post deals with children’s sense of time, and how that specifically impacts children in foster care.
Placing children in care might deal with their immediate need for physical care, nourishment, comfort, affection and stimulation. But continuity of care is critical (continuity means continuous or connected). Children need to learn how to bond and trust, and that happens with a stable consistent carer over a period of time. So changes to their carer can be detrimental. Temporary care can, in fact, be detrimental.
And if a child is suffering the consequences of stress and inadequate parenting, then moving them from home to home only makes it worse. This reminds us of the Eggshells comment from Jen who writes about a foster child’s perspective at www.fostercareinamerica.com.
So how do adults deal with change and impermanence? Some restless souls like it. But most of us build on the self-reliance that we have learned, probably from stable and supportive parents and family circumstances, over the years. And we usually have the skill to anticipate and plan for a time when things settle down. We may well have experienced more settled times before, so we know what they look like.
But kids have few life experiences to draw on. They can’t pull out an experience and say ‘well, the last time that happened to me I handled it this way.’ They simply don’t have enough experiences in ‘the bank’.
And they are right in the process of discovering who they are. They don’t yet have a strong sense of ‘self’, not like adults do. It’s being created. A child in a stable family doesn’t have to be anxious about the fundamentals like nurturing, protection, trust and security. So they are free to get on with working out who they are. For a child in care energy is expended on the fundamentals. Who will care for them? Are they safe? Who will protect them? Who can they trust?
And think about how children focus. On the right here, right now. We have enough trouble getting the Camper to plan for the next hour, let alone the next month, year and so on (although the stand-out exception there is her birthday party. That goes into SWAT type planning at least 7 months before the date).
So because young children don’t understand the concept of temporary versus permanent, periods of time are largely incomprehensible to them. The younger they are, the longer the disruption – the more impact it will have.
This section of the report concludes ‘pediatricians should advocate that evaluation, planning, placement and treatment decision be made as quickly as possible, especially for very young children’. They are saying that the clock is ticking - every minute has an impact on the child.
When we hear workers say that their primary focus is on the ‘family’, we worry like hell for the individual children.
This post deals with children’s sense of time, and how that specifically impacts children in foster care.
Placing children in care might deal with their immediate need for physical care, nourishment, comfort, affection and stimulation. But continuity of care is critical (continuity means continuous or connected). Children need to learn how to bond and trust, and that happens with a stable consistent carer over a period of time. So changes to their carer can be detrimental. Temporary care can, in fact, be detrimental.
And if a child is suffering the consequences of stress and inadequate parenting, then moving them from home to home only makes it worse. This reminds us of the Eggshells comment from Jen who writes about a foster child’s perspective at www.fostercareinamerica.com.
So how do adults deal with change and impermanence? Some restless souls like it. But most of us build on the self-reliance that we have learned, probably from stable and supportive parents and family circumstances, over the years. And we usually have the skill to anticipate and plan for a time when things settle down. We may well have experienced more settled times before, so we know what they look like.
But kids have few life experiences to draw on. They can’t pull out an experience and say ‘well, the last time that happened to me I handled it this way.’ They simply don’t have enough experiences in ‘the bank’.
And they are right in the process of discovering who they are. They don’t yet have a strong sense of ‘self’, not like adults do. It’s being created. A child in a stable family doesn’t have to be anxious about the fundamentals like nurturing, protection, trust and security. So they are free to get on with working out who they are. For a child in care energy is expended on the fundamentals. Who will care for them? Are they safe? Who will protect them? Who can they trust?
And think about how children focus. On the right here, right now. We have enough trouble getting the Camper to plan for the next hour, let alone the next month, year and so on (although the stand-out exception there is her birthday party. That goes into SWAT type planning at least 7 months before the date).
So because young children don’t understand the concept of temporary versus permanent, periods of time are largely incomprehensible to them. The younger they are, the longer the disruption – the more impact it will have.
This section of the report concludes ‘pediatricians should advocate that evaluation, planning, placement and treatment decision be made as quickly as possible, especially for very young children’. They are saying that the clock is ticking - every minute has an impact on the child.
When we hear workers say that their primary focus is on the ‘family’, we worry like hell for the individual children.
Self control, and self interest, for children in care?
09/06/2009 22:56
An interesting article crossed our desk this week.
It’s from The New Yorker, and it’s about self-control. Or rather, the ability or willingness of some people to delay gratification. The experiment, carried out in the 1960’s at Stanford University, put nursery school children in a room with a treat. The researcher offered that they could eat it straight away, but that if they waited until the researcher came back before eating it, they would get a second treat. A number of children successfully waited, and they used a number of mechanisms to take their focus off the treat sitting before them.
Over time, and with further analysis, the researcher ‘began to notice a link between the children’s academic performance as teenagers and their ability to wait for the second marshmallow’.
We quote: ‘ “What we’re really measuring with the marshmallows isn’t will power or self-control,” Mischel says. “It’s much more important than that. This task forces kids to find a way to make the situation work for them. They want the second marshmallow, but how can they get it? We can’t control the world, but we can control how we think about it.”’
This struck a chord with us. So many stories from children in care highlight how powerless and fearful they felt. So much of a skilled and loving parent’s task should be to teach children how to make situations work for them, to understand the ‘give and take’ or negotiations that they need to undertake for many reasons – safety, happiness, fulfilment, success. And if that kind of care and teaching is missing, how disadvantaged are these children in coping with life?
When Happy Camper came to live with us, self-control was an alien concept. She was completely impulsive, fearful of change and dreadfully upset when any experience she was enjoying ended.
Nowdays, the degree of negotiation that goes on at our house makes us feel a bit like the United Nations. On occasion we have to invoke the ‘just do it’ creed. But after reading this article, we are pleased to see that the Camper is well and truly working out how to make situations work for her. She’s often thinking through all the elements of recognition, reward and gratification and shuffling them around to see what suits her.
We like that sense of robustness and, to be frank, self-interest. There is plenty of time to teach her to put others first (and we have started that journey), but given her background, we’re happy to see her learn to put herself first. She missed that bit. She was too busy just struggling to survive.
So how did we start her on this path? Firstly, we showed her how loving parents nurture their children. We showed her how we could put her first above everything. She learned how it felt to have every need catered for. We hope, and we think, that she’s learned that she deserves it.
Second, even when she was tiny we offered her both a reason to do what we wanted her to do, and an understanding of the consequences. It took time and it took energy, and sometimes it was clearly beyond her understanding and will power. But she began to learn how everything is connected, that every action has an equal and opposite reaction, and that her actions trigger different outcomes.
We’re proud of how far the Camper has come.
It’s from The New Yorker, and it’s about self-control. Or rather, the ability or willingness of some people to delay gratification. The experiment, carried out in the 1960’s at Stanford University, put nursery school children in a room with a treat. The researcher offered that they could eat it straight away, but that if they waited until the researcher came back before eating it, they would get a second treat. A number of children successfully waited, and they used a number of mechanisms to take their focus off the treat sitting before them.
Over time, and with further analysis, the researcher ‘began to notice a link between the children’s academic performance as teenagers and their ability to wait for the second marshmallow’.
We quote: ‘ “What we’re really measuring with the marshmallows isn’t will power or self-control,” Mischel says. “It’s much more important than that. This task forces kids to find a way to make the situation work for them. They want the second marshmallow, but how can they get it? We can’t control the world, but we can control how we think about it.”’
This struck a chord with us. So many stories from children in care highlight how powerless and fearful they felt. So much of a skilled and loving parent’s task should be to teach children how to make situations work for them, to understand the ‘give and take’ or negotiations that they need to undertake for many reasons – safety, happiness, fulfilment, success. And if that kind of care and teaching is missing, how disadvantaged are these children in coping with life?
When Happy Camper came to live with us, self-control was an alien concept. She was completely impulsive, fearful of change and dreadfully upset when any experience she was enjoying ended.
Nowdays, the degree of negotiation that goes on at our house makes us feel a bit like the United Nations. On occasion we have to invoke the ‘just do it’ creed. But after reading this article, we are pleased to see that the Camper is well and truly working out how to make situations work for her. She’s often thinking through all the elements of recognition, reward and gratification and shuffling them around to see what suits her.
We like that sense of robustness and, to be frank, self-interest. There is plenty of time to teach her to put others first (and we have started that journey), but given her background, we’re happy to see her learn to put herself first. She missed that bit. She was too busy just struggling to survive.
So how did we start her on this path? Firstly, we showed her how loving parents nurture their children. We showed her how we could put her first above everything. She learned how it felt to have every need catered for. We hope, and we think, that she’s learned that she deserves it.
Second, even when she was tiny we offered her both a reason to do what we wanted her to do, and an understanding of the consequences. It took time and it took energy, and sometimes it was clearly beyond her understanding and will power. But she began to learn how everything is connected, that every action has an equal and opposite reaction, and that her actions trigger different outcomes.
We’re proud of how far the Camper has come.
Social work survey says workers described negatively
26/05/2009 21:36
CommunityCare.co.uk did a survey. And they found that ‘Journalists used negative words to describe social work roughly five times as often as positive or sympathetic words’.
Their results were blunt. Consider this:
‘Words (describing social workers' conduct, ability or demeanour) varied from "inept" and "arrogant" to serious personal allegations, such as "bullying", and "blackmailing". Social workers will no doubt be alarmed that the second most used word was "bully" or "bullying".‘
There are many definitions of bullying, but here is the Wikipedia one.
In colloquial speech, bullying often describes a form of harassment perpetrated by an abuser who possesses more physical and/or social power and dominance than the victim.
So it’s all about an inequality of power, and dominance.
The purpose of this blog is to share and educate. While the survey reviewed journalists’ reporting (and has some interesting things to say on whether all sides of the story are able to be presented), here’s our experience of some behaviour that was not social work’s finest hour.
A worker raising the same issue, after we had indicated we didn’t agree with it, at every single phone call, email message and visit. It was the wrong thing for the Camper and so we just kept saying no.
Now we’d call them on it, indicate we have answered the question and unless they have new reasons to raise it again, we consider the issue has been dealt with.
A worker who, when challenged, got frustrated and aggressive.
We stayed calm and suggested she learn how to receive feedback and work with various parties to achieve agreement. We thought she would have learned that at uni but maybe she missed that class?
Perjorative comments that were belittling or disparaging. Our particular favourite was ‘this is what you signed up for’ (so you as the carer don’t get a say).
We cheerfully advised that we signed up to care for a child, not to slavishly agree with the workers on everything without analysis and debate.
We took a support person with us to a meeting. When that support person spoke, they were told they were allowed to be present at the meeting, but not to speak.
If we were in that situation again, we would initiate a discussion at the start of the meeting as to the roles of all the people present and establish the ground rules.
All of these examples have one thing in common. The unspoken assumption, exhibited by the worker in each instance, was that they held the power, the decision-making responsibility, or the high moral ground. And when we disagreed, or challenged them, their behaviour veered dangerously close to bullying.
The interplay of all the adults responsible for a child’s life can be a delicate matter.
Carers expect the worker to have skill and experience, we care for this child and want to do the right thing for them, and we know the agency has a role to play. But workers are from an institution with all the authority that comes with it, and we are just a family or an individual. The power may not feel equal, and it doesn’t take much to shift it.
Lest we scare off any prospective carers out there, we hasten to tell you that we have experienced the other side of the spectrum. We know workers who are collaborative, wise, thoughtful and perceptive. They share their views without lecturing, and they are prepared to listen to the carers, and more importantly, the child.
We wish there were more of you. We hope you are recognized within the system as the exceptional workers you are, and we hope other, less experienced workers learn from you.
Their results were blunt. Consider this:
‘Words (describing social workers' conduct, ability or demeanour) varied from "inept" and "arrogant" to serious personal allegations, such as "bullying", and "blackmailing". Social workers will no doubt be alarmed that the second most used word was "bully" or "bullying".‘
There are many definitions of bullying, but here is the Wikipedia one.
In colloquial speech, bullying often describes a form of harassment perpetrated by an abuser who possesses more physical and/or social power and dominance than the victim.
So it’s all about an inequality of power, and dominance.
The purpose of this blog is to share and educate. While the survey reviewed journalists’ reporting (and has some interesting things to say on whether all sides of the story are able to be presented), here’s our experience of some behaviour that was not social work’s finest hour.
A worker raising the same issue, after we had indicated we didn’t agree with it, at every single phone call, email message and visit. It was the wrong thing for the Camper and so we just kept saying no.
Now we’d call them on it, indicate we have answered the question and unless they have new reasons to raise it again, we consider the issue has been dealt with.
A worker who, when challenged, got frustrated and aggressive.
We stayed calm and suggested she learn how to receive feedback and work with various parties to achieve agreement. We thought she would have learned that at uni but maybe she missed that class?
Perjorative comments that were belittling or disparaging. Our particular favourite was ‘this is what you signed up for’ (so you as the carer don’t get a say).
We cheerfully advised that we signed up to care for a child, not to slavishly agree with the workers on everything without analysis and debate.
We took a support person with us to a meeting. When that support person spoke, they were told they were allowed to be present at the meeting, but not to speak.
If we were in that situation again, we would initiate a discussion at the start of the meeting as to the roles of all the people present and establish the ground rules.
All of these examples have one thing in common. The unspoken assumption, exhibited by the worker in each instance, was that they held the power, the decision-making responsibility, or the high moral ground. And when we disagreed, or challenged them, their behaviour veered dangerously close to bullying.
The interplay of all the adults responsible for a child’s life can be a delicate matter.
Carers expect the worker to have skill and experience, we care for this child and want to do the right thing for them, and we know the agency has a role to play. But workers are from an institution with all the authority that comes with it, and we are just a family or an individual. The power may not feel equal, and it doesn’t take much to shift it.
Lest we scare off any prospective carers out there, we hasten to tell you that we have experienced the other side of the spectrum. We know workers who are collaborative, wise, thoughtful and perceptive. They share their views without lecturing, and they are prepared to listen to the carers, and more importantly, the child.
We wish there were more of you. We hope you are recognized within the system as the exceptional workers you are, and we hope other, less experienced workers learn from you.
Teaching a child to make a decision
15/04/2009 21:50
We don’t presume to tell anyone how to make decisions, although there’s plenty of room in the business world for more practice.
We talked in our last post about teaching the Camper to have an opinion, and how having an opinion is pretty fundamental to making a decision.
We’re good at decisions. We’ve had lots of practice, and we are never short of an opinion on anything, funnily enough. But our willingness to take the lead was a source of tension with the private agency. We kept tripping over ‘the line’ drawn by the ‘experts’, and they weren’t giving up territory to anyone. You could argue that they thought they were doing their job. But we think they needed to learn the lesson we’ve just taught the Camper.
We recently gave the Camper real life experience at making a decision. It was in relation to an event that happens every single day of her life. Her approach was to see how she felt just before the event each day, and we had to adjust our responses to accommodate her.
Now we can tell you that even though the event itself was minor and mundane, the Camper’s capriciousness about it began to take its toll. And if we pushed on through and thwarted her - that is, we made the decision for her - we’d get one of the meltdowns that parents can only shudder at.
‘She wanted routine’ you might mutter. You’re right, she did. But she’s a forthright little character and just imposing a routine on her wasn’t working. We tried that.
So we taught her to make the decision.
We explained why it was important to us and the workings of the family that mundane, routine things ran smoothly.
We explained why it was important to her growth and capability.
We explained how important cooperation was in our family.
We explained clearly what we wanted from her.
We told her she needed to make a decision about what she was going to do each day.
We discussed her options with her.
We gave her a weekend to think and talk about it, before making her final choice.
We explained that her final choice would be it for a set period of time.
And just to make sure the point got across, we chose an extra-curricular activity, described how she relied on our cooperation to get her there, and explained that her willingness to cooperate each day would directly influence our cooperation. We didn’t threaten to stop the activity completely, but the risk for her was constant interruptions to it.
Bingo. While the preparation took a week or so, behaviour changed overnight. No kidding. And it’s stuck.
What’s happened of course is that the activity has become a habit. The Camper no longer spends any time ‘thinking’ about it, she just does it. We knew that, and Happy Camper has learned it. She’s learned some self-discipline. And we think we’ve started to teach her an important life lesson about expending her energy and emotion on the things that really matter. Gold stars all round.
Oh, and the lesson for the agency workers? If it’s a good placement, focus on the important stuff, and trust us to make some good decisions for the child.
We talked in our last post about teaching the Camper to have an opinion, and how having an opinion is pretty fundamental to making a decision.
We’re good at decisions. We’ve had lots of practice, and we are never short of an opinion on anything, funnily enough. But our willingness to take the lead was a source of tension with the private agency. We kept tripping over ‘the line’ drawn by the ‘experts’, and they weren’t giving up territory to anyone. You could argue that they thought they were doing their job. But we think they needed to learn the lesson we’ve just taught the Camper.
We recently gave the Camper real life experience at making a decision. It was in relation to an event that happens every single day of her life. Her approach was to see how she felt just before the event each day, and we had to adjust our responses to accommodate her.
Now we can tell you that even though the event itself was minor and mundane, the Camper’s capriciousness about it began to take its toll. And if we pushed on through and thwarted her - that is, we made the decision for her - we’d get one of the meltdowns that parents can only shudder at.
‘She wanted routine’ you might mutter. You’re right, she did. But she’s a forthright little character and just imposing a routine on her wasn’t working. We tried that.
So we taught her to make the decision.
We explained why it was important to us and the workings of the family that mundane, routine things ran smoothly.
We explained why it was important to her growth and capability.
We explained how important cooperation was in our family.
We explained clearly what we wanted from her.
We told her she needed to make a decision about what she was going to do each day.
We discussed her options with her.
We gave her a weekend to think and talk about it, before making her final choice.
We explained that her final choice would be it for a set period of time.
And just to make sure the point got across, we chose an extra-curricular activity, described how she relied on our cooperation to get her there, and explained that her willingness to cooperate each day would directly influence our cooperation. We didn’t threaten to stop the activity completely, but the risk for her was constant interruptions to it.
Bingo. While the preparation took a week or so, behaviour changed overnight. No kidding. And it’s stuck.
What’s happened of course is that the activity has become a habit. The Camper no longer spends any time ‘thinking’ about it, she just does it. We knew that, and Happy Camper has learned it. She’s learned some self-discipline. And we think we’ve started to teach her an important life lesson about expending her energy and emotion on the things that really matter. Gold stars all round.
Oh, and the lesson for the agency workers? If it’s a good placement, focus on the important stuff, and trust us to make some good decisions for the child.
When is a fairy a good thing?
22/08/2008 00:25
There was an interesting article in the SMH (Weekend Edition, August 16-17 2008) from Lisa Pryor. She was responding to an article in the Age regarding a new book – The Great Feminist Denial – where the author decries letting preschool girls dress as fairies, princesses and ballerinas at birthday parties.
The author, Monica Dux, argues that this just entrenches a narrow view of femininity, focussed on appearance.
As a family with Cinderella, Angelina Ballerina, Snow White, and a number of unnamed fairies in our repertoire, we’d like to share our approach.
It’s all about balance.
We do ballet, so the wonders of the costumes and all that pink stuff are beautifully balanced by the physical activity. Happy Camper understands that ballet is about action and control and exercise. Snow White has been elevated to a superhero in our house, on a par with Spiderman and Superman.
The fairy outfits are usually layered over other clothes, to very funny effect. The froufrou glamour fairy outfit, worn over flannelette pyjamas, topped with a hat and scarf, accessorised with a pair of sunglasses and a bag and finished off with ugh boots, is hysterical. It’s all about dressing up and creating a look, and is usually part of an elaborate imaginative game. The brighter and shinier the outfit, the more Happy Camper loves it.
Dux offers that girls should be ‘active young things seeking out adventure'. We agree - on a daily basis we swim, ride scooters and bikes, kick a soccer ball around a park, wrestle, climb trees, walk dogs, garden. Happy Camper has no qualms about heading to the top of a climbing frame many metres high.
Happy Camper has also been encouraged to have a go at lots of things. It requires some clever risk management in the background naturally, but feeds her confidence and fuels her interest in trying more. She has manned a dodgem car (peeling EssentialMum’s fingers from the steering wheel when we tried to avoid hitting the edge), swung on a sixty foot professional trapeze with a grin on her face, had a go at several climbing walls, bucketed down any giant slide available (the higher the better), ridden horses from Shetlands to 15 hands, and watched in frustrated tears because she was too short to go on the G-force Rocket Ride with the adults.
So we don’t mind the fairy outfits. They are only one part of her imagination and life experience. If she’s still wearing them at fifteen, then we’ll worry.
Posted by EssentialMum
The author, Monica Dux, argues that this just entrenches a narrow view of femininity, focussed on appearance.
As a family with Cinderella, Angelina Ballerina, Snow White, and a number of unnamed fairies in our repertoire, we’d like to share our approach.
It’s all about balance.
We do ballet, so the wonders of the costumes and all that pink stuff are beautifully balanced by the physical activity. Happy Camper understands that ballet is about action and control and exercise. Snow White has been elevated to a superhero in our house, on a par with Spiderman and Superman.
The fairy outfits are usually layered over other clothes, to very funny effect. The froufrou glamour fairy outfit, worn over flannelette pyjamas, topped with a hat and scarf, accessorised with a pair of sunglasses and a bag and finished off with ugh boots, is hysterical. It’s all about dressing up and creating a look, and is usually part of an elaborate imaginative game. The brighter and shinier the outfit, the more Happy Camper loves it.
Dux offers that girls should be ‘active young things seeking out adventure'. We agree - on a daily basis we swim, ride scooters and bikes, kick a soccer ball around a park, wrestle, climb trees, walk dogs, garden. Happy Camper has no qualms about heading to the top of a climbing frame many metres high.
Happy Camper has also been encouraged to have a go at lots of things. It requires some clever risk management in the background naturally, but feeds her confidence and fuels her interest in trying more. She has manned a dodgem car (peeling EssentialMum’s fingers from the steering wheel when we tried to avoid hitting the edge), swung on a sixty foot professional trapeze with a grin on her face, had a go at several climbing walls, bucketed down any giant slide available (the higher the better), ridden horses from Shetlands to 15 hands, and watched in frustrated tears because she was too short to go on the G-force Rocket Ride with the adults.
So we don’t mind the fairy outfits. They are only one part of her imagination and life experience. If she’s still wearing them at fifteen, then we’ll worry.
Posted by EssentialMum
Gold medal performances
19/08/2008 23:15
It seems a shame that, before the Olympics are even over, a lower medal count for Australian athletes carries with it the whiff of failure.
How ridiculous.
The wonderful thing about sport is all the variables – that’s what makes it so challenging, so interesting and so rewarding. Your result is only as good as your performance on the day.
But all this visible adulation turned our thoughts to the unsung heroes in society, who never get to stand on a dais and be feted by the public.
It turned our thoughts to some gold medal performances we’ve seen from Happy Camper over the last years. She wasn’t fighting for a medal; she was fighting for her life.
Eating
Happy Camper came to us ‘failing to thrive’. She’d been in care, but an undiagnosed illness had seen her fail to grow and develop. When she came to us the medical issue had been resolved but there was a lot of ground to make up. Food was an issue – we were told she would choke, gag, ‘stuff’ herself, not chew properly. If food wasn’t available when she wanted it there were tantrums. We established a routine. We stuck to it as though our lives depended on it. Breakfast, lunch and dinner were within the same timeframes every single day. There was plenty of food - good, nutritious, hearty food. We wanted to teach Happy Camper that there would always be enough, and it would appear every single day. The gagging disappeared quickly, helped as we fed Happy Camper. The failing to chew was resolved with some new foods that required chewing. We showed her what chewing looked like. It was something she needed to learn, when the immediate panic about her full belly had subsided. We let her potter about in the kitchen during the mealtime preparation, so she understood the time it took to prepare it. We gave her some appetisers (usually vegetables) as we prepared the food. Happy Camper eats exceptionally well now, and is a hearty, healthy child who loves her food. Of course there are days when she is simply not hungry, and she will leave food without any fuss. But there is still the odd day when she is tired, or unwell, and food becomes the focus. She doesn’t want it but she won’t leave it. We hold the line and take it away after due warning. There will be more at the next meal and she knows it. We keep it low key because we don’t want food to become a control issue. We work on that by introducing new tastes and foods, in small amounts, quite regularly.
Running and ballet and exercise
Happy Camper, at two, had just started walking. So our routine included daily visits to the park, where she would run and tumble. For many long months our outings ended in screaming tantrums at her being put back in the pram. But before long the strength grew and her coordination came with it, and she learned that we would go to the park again the next day. We would play with a ball in the backyard, chase the dogs. She swam all through summer. We did Kindy Gym and turned her upside down on cue. We took any opportunity we could find for physical activity. Happy Camper showed quite some delight in dancing to music. She watched a ballet DVD and started copying the steps. So we enrolled her in ballet and she adores it. She’s learned rhythm, control, conformity. The end of year concert is a terrific experience.
Those first years were challenging ones for us. But Happy Camper was the one who really had to stretch.
She matched us every step of the way and she trusted us. She has the heart of a little champion. It was wonderful to see that, despite her start, she still knew how to try.
Posted by EssentialMum
How ridiculous.
The wonderful thing about sport is all the variables – that’s what makes it so challenging, so interesting and so rewarding. Your result is only as good as your performance on the day.
But all this visible adulation turned our thoughts to the unsung heroes in society, who never get to stand on a dais and be feted by the public.
It turned our thoughts to some gold medal performances we’ve seen from Happy Camper over the last years. She wasn’t fighting for a medal; she was fighting for her life.
Eating
Happy Camper came to us ‘failing to thrive’. She’d been in care, but an undiagnosed illness had seen her fail to grow and develop. When she came to us the medical issue had been resolved but there was a lot of ground to make up. Food was an issue – we were told she would choke, gag, ‘stuff’ herself, not chew properly. If food wasn’t available when she wanted it there were tantrums. We established a routine. We stuck to it as though our lives depended on it. Breakfast, lunch and dinner were within the same timeframes every single day. There was plenty of food - good, nutritious, hearty food. We wanted to teach Happy Camper that there would always be enough, and it would appear every single day. The gagging disappeared quickly, helped as we fed Happy Camper. The failing to chew was resolved with some new foods that required chewing. We showed her what chewing looked like. It was something she needed to learn, when the immediate panic about her full belly had subsided. We let her potter about in the kitchen during the mealtime preparation, so she understood the time it took to prepare it. We gave her some appetisers (usually vegetables) as we prepared the food. Happy Camper eats exceptionally well now, and is a hearty, healthy child who loves her food. Of course there are days when she is simply not hungry, and she will leave food without any fuss. But there is still the odd day when she is tired, or unwell, and food becomes the focus. She doesn’t want it but she won’t leave it. We hold the line and take it away after due warning. There will be more at the next meal and she knows it. We keep it low key because we don’t want food to become a control issue. We work on that by introducing new tastes and foods, in small amounts, quite regularly.
Running and ballet and exercise
Happy Camper, at two, had just started walking. So our routine included daily visits to the park, where she would run and tumble. For many long months our outings ended in screaming tantrums at her being put back in the pram. But before long the strength grew and her coordination came with it, and she learned that we would go to the park again the next day. We would play with a ball in the backyard, chase the dogs. She swam all through summer. We did Kindy Gym and turned her upside down on cue. We took any opportunity we could find for physical activity. Happy Camper showed quite some delight in dancing to music. She watched a ballet DVD and started copying the steps. So we enrolled her in ballet and she adores it. She’s learned rhythm, control, conformity. The end of year concert is a terrific experience.
Those first years were challenging ones for us. But Happy Camper was the one who really had to stretch.
She matched us every step of the way and she trusted us. She has the heart of a little champion. It was wonderful to see that, despite her start, she still knew how to try.
Posted by EssentialMum
Stop - and reflect
17/08/2008 21:50
One thing we’ve learned to do is stop, and reflect.
Think through where you have been, and where you’ve come to. Look at the child with clear eyes and see what you’ve achieved. There will always be challenges – have a chat with any other mother or father of a similarly aged child and you will find they deal with many of the same issues.
The challenge is that you may have a few extra. They will range in severity. At the lower end of the scale you will find yourself wondering how much of the behaviour is due to the child’s past, and how much of it simple six year old passion. There will come a point where you consider that the child has lived with you long enough to treat the behaviour as simple six year old passion. It’s a wonderful day when you all reach that point.
At the other end you’ll wonder how to ever manage this child’s behaviour. Faced with an endless challenge, stop and reflect. You will find some milestones along the way that help you take a breath, feel some satisfaction in what you have all achieved, and soldier on.
And just occasionally, we hope you feel real joy in what you are doing. Because we do, and it’s the best feeling in the world.
We bought some new clothes for Happy Camper – jeans, a hoodie, new cute boots. Nothing too different – just bigger sizes but the styles are probably more mature. Well, suddenly she looks like a big girl. It made us stop, and reflect.
Two-thirds the way through this kindy year, there is much to be happy about: how well Happy Camper has taken to school, the excellence of her teacher (at a local, state primary school), the bonding with her school mates, Happy Camper’s joy in learning. Her ongoing good health and resilience (after a poor start) is a wonderful bonus.
And best of all is our relationship. While Happy Camper’s cheeky streak may drive us mad, we are quite delighted at the confidence and intelligence that fuels it. We let her test the boundary, we explain the limits, we let her find them, we pull her firmly into line every so often, then we ease off. It’s an ongoing process.
So what underpins it all is love. When you hold this child in your arms and feel your heart turn over, you stop, and reflect. We love every fibre of Happy Camper’s sassy, gorgeous, healthy being. And she knows when she reaches for us she finds love. That will keep us all going.
Posted by EssentialMum
Think through where you have been, and where you’ve come to. Look at the child with clear eyes and see what you’ve achieved. There will always be challenges – have a chat with any other mother or father of a similarly aged child and you will find they deal with many of the same issues.
The challenge is that you may have a few extra. They will range in severity. At the lower end of the scale you will find yourself wondering how much of the behaviour is due to the child’s past, and how much of it simple six year old passion. There will come a point where you consider that the child has lived with you long enough to treat the behaviour as simple six year old passion. It’s a wonderful day when you all reach that point.
At the other end you’ll wonder how to ever manage this child’s behaviour. Faced with an endless challenge, stop and reflect. You will find some milestones along the way that help you take a breath, feel some satisfaction in what you have all achieved, and soldier on.
And just occasionally, we hope you feel real joy in what you are doing. Because we do, and it’s the best feeling in the world.
We bought some new clothes for Happy Camper – jeans, a hoodie, new cute boots. Nothing too different – just bigger sizes but the styles are probably more mature. Well, suddenly she looks like a big girl. It made us stop, and reflect.
Two-thirds the way through this kindy year, there is much to be happy about: how well Happy Camper has taken to school, the excellence of her teacher (at a local, state primary school), the bonding with her school mates, Happy Camper’s joy in learning. Her ongoing good health and resilience (after a poor start) is a wonderful bonus.
And best of all is our relationship. While Happy Camper’s cheeky streak may drive us mad, we are quite delighted at the confidence and intelligence that fuels it. We let her test the boundary, we explain the limits, we let her find them, we pull her firmly into line every so often, then we ease off. It’s an ongoing process.
So what underpins it all is love. When you hold this child in your arms and feel your heart turn over, you stop, and reflect. We love every fibre of Happy Camper’s sassy, gorgeous, healthy being. And she knows when she reaches for us she finds love. That will keep us all going.
Posted by EssentialMum