Dream Homes

One evening, as I was scrolling through Facebook, I saw an ad for a house listing. The home looked beautiful – older, 3 stories, brick, and a nice yard. The interior reflected wonderfully done updates. And of course its price is approximately five times the value of our home! There’s no way we’d ever be able to purchase it, but I told Matt and the kids that something like that might be my dream home.

That led to a conversation with the big girls about what their dream homes would be. I treasure those moments – the fun discussions, just learning more about where each child’s heart is and what they would create if they had no constraints. I want to remember more of these sweet conversations, these treasures of children growing older, and so I’m recording this one here as a witness, to look back upon with joy in future years, as well.

This is how Miranda describes her dream house:

It would be a purple castle with 4 large triangular peaks and windows. There would be a ton of windows surrounding so we could see if an enemy was trying to come. There are always lovely dinners served of paprika and for dessert always cupcakes and peep cake. It would have 6 bathrooms with 6 mirrors, one for each person at their appropriate height, 2 sinks, 1 for boys, 1 girls in each bathroom, and 2 shiny purple bathtubs. At the gate there are pink and golden bars, and there is a big pink drawbridge over a big moat filled with peeps that are rainbow colored and pink and white – each peep is a rabbit. The courtyard has a ton of Hatchimals – about 1,000 – and birds and plenty of trees for them to nest in. There are 6 bedrooms. One is purple with a king size and queen size bed for Mommy & Daddy (the beds are connected). One is a blue room with dinosaur and panda wallpaper with small bed with panda blanket and pillows and king size bed with dinosaur blankets and pillows for FangFang and Atticus. One is a rainbow room with pink and white added, too, and My Little Ponies painted all over the wall with bunk beds with My Little Pony sheets and pillows for MeiMei and me. The other 3 bedrooms are for guests. They’re green, blue, and red. There are king size beds in the red room and blue room and a queen size bed in green room. There is also a big living room that is always kept clean with a big pink and purple striped rug, 1 big purple couch and big purple chair for Dad and 10 pillows on the couches (5 each). The other couch is pink. There are 3 pink pillows and 2 purple on the pink couch and 3 purple pillows and 2 pink on the purple couch. There is also a dining room, and there is a kitchen where all the beautiful and wonderful foods are made. There is a playroom with tons of toys – panda toys, peep toys, Hatchimals, My Little Ponies,  and dinosaurs. There are also royal cats – a father, a mother, and 8 kittens. Four kittens are black boys like their father, and 4 are calico girls like their mother.  There are also horses – 1 that can use magic (a unicorn), 1 that can fly (a Pegasus), an alacorn that can use magic and fly, and a “rainbow colored horse that is just normal.” There is a royal sunroom where the cats can go to play, and it’s warm enough for them to use it every single day. There is a royal throne room with 2 gigantic thrones for Mom and Dad, 2 medium thrones on either side for MeiMei and me, beside those are 2 small thrones for FangFang and Atticus. There are tons of paintings all over the castle of pet horses and cats and such other things you might think of like wonderful desserts and meals. And the last room is half a royal nursery and half an eye examining place to see if anyone needs glasses.

Madeleine CaiQun describes her dream home this way:

It is a light pink castle with a light pink wall and a moat and a drawbridge and flowers on the castle wall. The bathroom would have a pretty pink bathtub and mirrors, each at appropriate heights for people to see themselves and a sink for each of the people at their perfect height. There would be 3 bedrooms. One has a big bed with pink sheets for Mommy and Daddy. One is blue and has dinosaur wallpaper and a crib with pandas all over it and a blanket with a big panda face, and the bed has dinosaur pillows and dinosaur blankets. One is purple with 1 huge bed for 2 people with My Little Pony wallpaper and 2 dressers. The bed has My Little Pony sheets and pillows and blankets. The living room has cat wallpaper and couches with cats on them and pink carpet. There is a playroom with My Little Pony wallpaper and pink carpet and shelves with toys. Some toys are My Little Ponies, some are pandas, and some are dinosaurs. For pets, there are 3 cats – one kitten, one mother, one father. There are also a unicorn and Pegasus and an alacorn (unicorn with wings) and a few normal horses whose colors are brown and a rainbow mane with white body. The flowers are pretty – pink, purple, and all the other colors of the rainbow. The wall of the castle has a gate with golden bars.

I love hearing what my kiddos come up with and share, given the opportunity!

FAQ – My Child is So Controlling and Manipulative! What do I do?!

In a large Facebook parenting group that I was recently asked to help moderate, we see certain questions come up over and over again. One of those questions is some form of the following: “My child wants to be in control of everything,” or, “My child is so manipulative,” or “My child is constantly engaging in control battles with me,” all followed by the query, “What do I do?!?!”

I recently wrote a post for that group in an attempt to provide a broad framework for understanding how to address that question, and I’m sharing the response here more publicly.

There are a couple key points to understanding how to respond and what to do. First – it is worth noting that control, in and of itself, is not generally a need. As one of my co-moderators pointed out, if you look at hierarchies of needs proposed in the field of psychology, “control” is not one of them. For instance, Maslow’s hierarchy of needs lists physiological needs (like food, water, and shelter), safety needs, belongingness and love needs, esteem needs, and finally, self-actualization. Nowhere in there is “control” listed as a need – but rather, it would be understood as a means to pursuing the meeting of those needs.

The obvious and important follow-up question would be: what need is my child attempting to meet by pursuing control? If control is not a need in and of itself, but rather an attempt to meet a need, what is the need our children are trying to meet? We need to be detectives and attempt to find the answer to that question. Our children are precious souls. One of our core values in this group is that, “We believe that every child is precious, infinitely valuable, and worthy of love and respect, regardless of their history or challenges.” Let’s really commit to viewing our children that way. When we tell their stories, even to ourselves, with words like, “My child is a manipulative jerk,” we are not honoring our children or their stories. We can, instead, ask ourselves what underlying need is beneath the behavior, working to view our children in the best light possible and understand them and their stories.

Many of our children have come from hard places. They may have learned, through years of experience, that adults are not reliable. They may have learned that there will not always be enough food. They may have learned that they can trust no one else to provide and care for them. Is it any wonder that they would crave control? It often takes years of consistency in our provision and care, years of building trust, before the strength of the messages we’re trying to send – “I will care for you. You are safe here.” – can truly begin to rival the strength of the messages our kids have internalized from their time before us. Even for children who are not from hard places, their desire for control has sources and reasons – and our job as their parents is to help them figure out what those are.

Then we can acknowledge our children’s fear. We can put words to their feelings. We can empathize with them. As they grow, we can help them to understand why their brains operate in this way.

We can also provide the combination of structure and nurture that begins to combat our kids’ feelings of lack of safety.

An essential part of that is sharing control. Our children need to know that they have a voice. Yes, you are the parent, and you are in charge – of course. But your children need to see that you will listen to them, that you hear them when they communicate what they need. Prioritize your “nos” and give “yeses” when you can. Whenever possible, reserve your “no” for situations in which safety is a true concern; and try to create an environment in which you can minimize the number of “nos” you need to give. Whenever possible, say yes. Yes, you may have that piece of gum. Yes, you may have a snack. Yes, you may choose your own outfit today. Yes, we can play outside. Yes, you may have a compromise. Yes, yes, yes. I am in charge, but I do not need to have sole control over every area of our lives.

As our kids grow, we can challenge them in small ways – set the bar low and begin to build their tolerance for a “no” – but that is always done in the framework of love and wanting to see our children grow, and it’s not the first step. We, as parents, are in a unique position of understanding and building relationships with our children and ultimately teaching them that they can trust, that they can experience safety, and that they can get their needs met without attempting to take control.

Last, and this is HUGE – is the observation that if there are control battles going on between us and our children, that means that we are also fighting to maintain control in these situations. We, as parents, are seeing whatever is happening with our children from a framework of control – and that means it is worth considering whether we ourselves are predisposed to view the world in general through a lens of control. That has nothing to do with our children – it’s about us. If this is true of us, before we can help our children, we need to do some hard work ourselves. How do I know? Because this is me. I crave control. It took a lot of self-reflection, prayer, and counseling to figure out why I like to feel in control, when that tendency is strongest, how to pay attention to my mind and body to notice when I’m feeling that desire for control, and what to do when it happens. In parenting, we have a responsibility for recognizing what we bring to the table and dealing with our own junk. As I do that, I am increasingly able to understand my children’s points of view and share control with them. Let’s let control be another area in which we work with our children, not in opposition to them.

In Which Miranda Becomes a Vegetarian

One of my greatest joys in parenthood is watching my children develop interests and passions of their own. All four of our children have what our pediatrician refers to as “big personalities,” so there is no shortage of passion here. Even if we tried to direct it, I’m not sure we could, and each time it bursts forth from one child or another, I feel like I’ve just gotten to unwrap another Christmas gift. I get a real glimpse at where my child’s heart is, and the wonder and awe that this child whom I have the privilege of shepherding through life has his or her own unique convictions and excitements and passions – and that I have a front row seat to witnessing them – is glorious.

One of Miranda’s latest passions is vegetarianism. As a family, we have been almost entirely pescetarian since shortly after Matt’s heart attack. For several months now, though, Miranda has been entirely vegetarian. She was never really a huge fan of fish, anyway, and while the rest of us have always made occasional brief forays into the carnivorous culture in which we exist (primarily related to social gatherings), Miranda abstains from meat entirely.

I remember very clearly sitting on the couch one morning, doing our history reading, and looking at pictures of Vikings carrying in animal carcasses in preparation for a feast. The meat-to-be looked so very…animal-like. I believe that was the moment that solidified it all in her mind with finality. She would not be consuming meat.

Since then, our conversations about vegetarianism generally go something like this:

  • Miranda: I will not eat meat! It is mean to kill animals for food and eat them!
  • Me: I respect that conviction, and we’ll honor that. You don’t have to eat meat.
  • Miranda: No one should eat meat! If anyone eats meat, they should be killed!
  • Me: So…you think it’s evil to kill animals?
  • Miranda: Yes!
  • Me: So evil that anyone who eats an animal should be killed?
  • Miranda: Yes!
  • Me: Doesn’t that seem a bit ironic to you?
  • Miranda: No. Why would that be ironic?
  • Me: Well, you’re advocating for killing people, because you’re protesting that they are killing animals. If you value the lives of animals, do you think maybe we should also value the lives of people?
  • Miranda, looking at me as if that proposal is the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard: No.

There you have it, my friends. Miranda Grace, the ultimate intensifier, has spoken. She is a vegetarian, and the rest of us are supposed to follow her lead – or else.

Either that, or I need to keep working with her on developing some sense of moderation and respect for others’ convictions and the ethical gray areas of life 😉

Witnessing the Power of Connection

Matt and I have, for years, embraced the parenting philosophy often known as trust-based relational intervention (TBRI) or, to use more commonplace terminology, parenting with connection. One of the tenets of this philosophy relates to the idea that corrective discipline should be designed to teach, not to punish. That part is easy enough to grasp (though sometimes difficult to practice!), but one element of the philosophy that has taken us longer to really understand – and to implement – has been the importance of the work of relationship-building outside of situations of conflict.

If we want our kids to respect us and be willing to work with us when the heat is on, we have to make the investments in our relationships with them ahead of time – not to mention that relationship investment is just a huge part of loving someone. In some ways, we’ve been doing that from day one. Wanting to have relationships with our children is one of the primary reasons we homeschool, and I obviously have a great deal of time with all of our kids during the day. But the fact is that we’re also very task-oriented during much of that time together. During school time we are, obviously, doing school. I take one child with me each week to go grocery shopping, and we do get some good time together while we’re out, but the focus is still on the task of grocery shopping. Honestly, with four kids, it’s hard to make time for pure, individual relational connection, but we’ve known for a while now that it’s important, and we’ve been trying to make time for it. I’ve been doing some one-on-one dates with kids, and I’ve tried to find other opportunities for individual connection (or connection with smaller groups of kids) throughout the day, and that has been so good. Sometimes it looks like asking a child to go choose a book to read together. Sometimes it looks like playing our Teddy Bear Memory game together. Sometimes it looks like letting a child choose something to make with me in the kitchen.

And it has brought me so much joy recently to see growing moments of connection between Matt and our kids and to witness the fruit of his growing pursuit of them. One night, as he and I discussed ways to cultivate empathy in and connect with our big kids, Matt proposed that we start reading through The Chronicles of Narnia with them, as he remembers reading those books as a touchstone of his childhood. As he reads, Madeleine CaiQun curls up next to him, and both girls are so excited for all four of us to be reading these great books together. They’re really into the stories, and they love that connecting time.

And the other day, one of our kiddos was having a difficult time after really working hard on some challenging math concepts. She was totally dysregulated, unable to play well with the other kids, and uninterested in engaging with me or working on her own in any suggestion I made. Matt asked her to come down to the studio and make some artwork with him. Half an hour later, she emerged, totally regulated, with artwork to distribute to everyone as gifts.

We are seeing more spontaneous affection, more willingness to work through periods of dysregulation – and more connection in general. Those moments of investing in relationships with our kiddos are so precious and so important!

Access Matters

I’m sorry to have to admit that, for most of my life, I was pretty oblivious to issues of accessibility and disability rights. It took exploring adoption through a special needs program to begin to open my eyes, and it took adopting a child who actually has a medical need that is considered a real disability for me to begin to truly see. And I’m still learning – but I see more than I used to see.

Everywhere we go, everywhere we look, there are barriers to access.

Do I want to go to a park? Do I want to take my kids to play at a playground? Do we want to go to church (did you know that churches are exempt from the ADA?)? Do I want to sign my children up for a group or activity? Do we want to hire a baby-sitter to watch our children? Do we want to take advantage of the childcare advertised as being provided in conjunction with an event?

Because one of the members of our family has a disability, none of those activities are ever straightforward for us. Every single one requires advance planning, maybe scouting out a location, maybe explaining our situation to whoever is in charge.

Even the language that we, as a society, use to talk about disability and access is often awkward. I cringe when I hear the phrase, “wheelchair bound.” Does this look like a child who is “bound” to and restricted by her wheelchair?

I’d argue not. FangFang’s wheelchair is an amazing tool that allows her greater access to the world around her than she would otherwise have. Without it, she would have almost no “social mobility” – the ability to move herself around in public places. At home, she is quite mobile – she can butt-scoot or crawl to get herself almost anywhere, including up and down stairs – but butt-scooting down the aisles of Target isn’t exactly within our social mores. It’s true I could put her in a stroller, but in that situation, I’m pushing her around, and she has no control over where she goes. At four, just like other four-year-olds, she wants to have some freedom to explore her world, and it’s entirely appropriate for her to have that. That is what her wheelchair offers for her.

FangFang knows there are things that other kids her age can do that she can’t. She doesn’t often communicate that it bothers her…but when we find ways to facilitate her participation and her independence, her excitement is palpable. She has been potty trained for months, but because she doesn’t walk independently, and she’s so tiny, she has always relied upon me to assist her in the bathroom, even as she has seen her younger brother use the bathroom on his own. This week she received a custom-made step-stool, a modified version of this one, that allows her to be almost entirely independent in the bathroom. She is beyond thrilled.

It’s true, providing for access is expensive. It’s almost never efficient. But don’t the lives of people with disabilities matter? They’re people, right? My daughter who doesn’t walk independently is still a person, still an image-bearer of the Living God, worthy of respect and dignity, right? And my friend’s daughter, who is deaf? And another friend’s son living with HIV? We, as a society, should not be setting up systems that perpetuate exclusion. None of us benefit from that situation. Right? Do you believe that with me?

I hope you do. But sometimes I wonder. Maybe other people don’t? If they did, would it be this hard?

It breaks my heart that I am going to have to, at some point, teach FangFang to advocate for herself in a world that, in so many ways, is not built for her. I am so thankful for the ways in which we as a country have grown in inclusion – for the ADA, for IDEA, and more. But we still have so far to go. And as hard as the mental back-and-forth is for me, the mother of a child with disabilities (I need more help – I literally cannot do X unless someone else helps me; but who am I to request additional help, beyond what everyone else gets, when I know people already have a lot on their plates; what should I do here?), I am committed to the fight, for my child and for those who come after her; would you like to join me? I don’t want them to have to fight so hard. And I wear my new shirt to remind myself of the future for which I’m fighting.