Hands Full of Rocks

Follow-up and How to Spot Emotional Grooming

So, about that boy that I was iffy on, and G was defending? Expelled for bringing a weapon to school.

We were right on the gut read.

We also took the opportunity to teach G about emotional grooming. I did some research, wrote it up for him, and let him read it. We talked about it a little - that someone doesn't need to do ALL these things to be grooming you for emotional or social or physical control. Just one is iffy enough. At the same time, many of these behaviors are things boys and girls in high school do to each other constantly. Especially in relationships.

These techniques are ways to evade consent conflicts, in advance of the situation. They encourage consent even against better judgment.They're how abusive partners take control. They're how date rape happens and the person raped doesn't really understand how things got that far. They're even some of the techniques for how sales people and commercials get you to impulse buy. And also some are how politicians and political ads convince you to vote for their candidates, even. The techniques are the same. It's a good idea to know how to spot them.

Spotting Emotional Grooming

Emotional grooming is actions intended to establish control of another person’s actions, authority, power, identity, reputation, physical body (for sex or participation in violence), etc. The primary driver is to create a sense of being in control for the groomer (of their life, of their social world, etc.) by subtly controlling the actions of the target.

Tools of a groomer:

• Jealousy/Possessiveness (Acting possessive, being jealous of time spent with others or elsewhere or with family, belittling those close to the target such as parents or siblings, or suddenly removing attention to trigger jealousy and initiate a desire to regain the previous level of interaction, asking for actions – say or do - as proof of friendship)
• Insecurity (Acting uncertain, self-destructive, tearing self down, lauding the skills/abilities of the target over own abilities, being negative about self recurrently – in order to get a response from another person: hoping for a responsive ‘building up’ denials (‘no you’re not, you’re a great friend!’); change of target’s actions; change of target’s choices ‘I guess I’m not good enough to be your friend’ to get the target to spend more time with them or allow access to more information; ‘I’m not very smart’ to get the target to spend time helping them, ‘I probably deserve (bad thing), I always screw things up’ to get attention or more time with target. OR can reverse to be playing on the targets insecurities, ‘nobody really wants to be friends with weirdos like you, except me’.)
• Intimidation (Trying to control or own the actions of the target, veiled threats, suggestions of instability that might lead to violence against self or others. Conversations or actions that make the target vaguely or directly uneasy or uncomfortable, while leaving the groomer in full control. Groomers will gradually increase the level of scary in their tactics to see how much the target will tolerate, and will continue to escalate gradually, incrementally moving up until they have achieved control. They do not usually go to all out scary at once, or they lose access to the target. They also incrementally move up the topics to more and more extreme actions and thoughts to desensitize the target to their topics, so the target will not notice when a line is crossed into active life threatening danger or actions that jeopardize the target’s life choices/goals in favor of aligning them permanently with the goals of the groomer.)
• Anger (Expressing anger inappropriately, at self or at others, outbursts directed internally (aggressive negative self-talk) or externally (cursing, crowding in, bumping, pushing, etc., in order to make the target uneasy or uncomfortable, with a goal of getting the target to make accommodating actions to avoid further outbursts).  
• Accusations (Using false or exaggerated accusations to frighten, threaten, or socially or emotionally control the target. The intent is to use peer process (accusing publicly as escalation over accusing privately) to publicly control or humiliate the target into siding with the groomer, doing what the groomer wants regardless of family or internal rules and ethics, or defending the groomer publicly or to family and friends.)
• Flattery (Using positive phrasing and praise to get the target to behave in certain ways – such as seeking them out, spending time with the groomer, or helping the groomer with an activity that gives the groomer access to the target.)
• Status (Using positive or negative status as a lure or promise to the target, to get them to do or say something they otherwise would not do or say.)
• Bribery (Giving in order to get something from the target. This can be giving to get the target to stay under the groomer’s control, to participate in activities the groomer wants to pursue, or to overlook an opportunity to notify someone of the grooming,
• Control (Groomer checks in on target out of context, follows or shows up at unexpected times, calls or texts to check up on what the target is thinking, reading, or doing, or to ask where they are or who they are with. Groomer indicates how target should dress, who to spend time with, what to spend money on and when. Groomer makes demands, or gives orders. Groomer tries to get target to keep the friendship secret from people who care about the target. Groomer uses explosive or no-warning anger to get target to change choices, actions, or words. Groomer refuses to listen to or show respect for others, especially others who have relationship authority with the target. Groomer attempts to keep target away from family and/or other friends. Groomer gives gifts or provides access to things that are otherwise not available to the target or approved of by the target’s friends and family. Groomer spreads rumors about target. Groomer threatens or implies harm to self including suicide.)

Groomers do not feel they are in control of their actions or feelings, lack discipline and self-control. They either don’t understand their feelings, or blame them on outside agency, or that they ‘just happen’ or ‘come out of nowhere’. Groomers do not wish to be in control of their emotions, and set up back stories and scenarios in which others will not expect them to take responsibility for themselves, either. Groomers separate their ‘good’ self from the social story of their ‘bad’ self so that people will continue to like the ‘good’ version of them and dismiss or forgive them for the negatives they refuse to claim or own responsibility for. Groomers believe that “The Devil Made Me Do It” is a rational position. Groomers will blame divorced parents, bad teachers, spiritual interference, and bad luck.

Groomers intend to create a false sense of trust. They say what the target wants to hear, and tune closer and closer to what gives them the results they’re looking for, both refining for what gets them the response they’re seeking, and what will desensitize their target to the action they want them to take.

Groomers usually DO NOT know they are grooming, and will deny it and take evasive or controlling action (spreading rumors, threatening target, threatening target’s family or friends, threatening self) in response to accusations. If a target tells a groomer that they are spotted as grooming, manipulating, etc., they will either increase the behavior to get control back (anger or insecurity techniques), or they will apologize profusely for the misunderstanding, act contrite and appalled that they could be so badly misunderstood, and back off the grooming either permanently or for a while, then restart with a more subtle approach.

Stages of grooming:

1)      Identifying target (by look, by whether they are already hanging with a peer group, whether family is nearby; those who do not ‘fit in’ are immediate targets)

2)      Information gathering (asking about family, beliefs, using the control techniques above to test the target’s tolerance, creating sympathy for overbearing parents/family/religion/society/school in order to extract more information/detail, identifying insecurities to either bolster or exploit).

3)      Lowering inhibitions (exposing to terms, ideas, or access that they would not normally have access to, showing them weapons, drugs, or violent or sexual materials in an increasing manner, initially remote/images/ideas, increasingly setting up situations in which the target will feel uncomfortable telling parents or others what they did or talked about, either to not betray the ‘friend’ (groomer) or to not lose access to the attractive items/options, or out of shame or guilt or fear of repercussions.)

4)      Initiating abusive power (initiating ‘iffy’ or gray-zone unethical but not illegal actions, and progressing to unethical or illegal but not overtly harmful activities such as breaking/entering or graffiti, using forbidden or dangerous weapons in a ‘safe’ place and way; increasingly engaging in other actions that the target will not willingly confess to a parent or authority, and which can then be used for threat of exposure control to increase the level of power… which then feeds in a cycle to increasing levels of danger and risk, giving the groomer increasing sense of power and control as they get the target to do things that are completely outside what the target would have previously considered ethical, appropriate, safe, or sane.)

***

Months have passed now. G has settled in a little more, and has found some friends who are worth his energy and attention, kids whose parents invite me to talk to them, who welcome me into their home when I pick G up, who stand on the front walk and talk. Kids who behave well when out at a restaurant with me and G, who get excited by G's wild plans and ideas and try to help him make them real, who talk with him about dating, and siblings, and life. Smart kids with dreams and plans and geekdom galore.

It's good.

And so it begins... (the joy of parenting a high schooler)

Mr G has been settling in to his new high school relatively smoothly, it appears. ... sorta.

I admit to some trepidation going in.

See, he's always been in either private Montessori (largely funded by my sister, thankfully), or a Charter (top in the state consistently). Academics have been very strong in both, but even more, the social structure and requirements have been strong on respect and decorum. Bullies were rare and rapidly brought into line.

From one angle, that's great. He got to focus his attention on academics, activities, and his peers without worry or wariness.

From another angle... well, it leaves him without skills to spot a power game, a bully, someone looking for followers, etc. No filter. No radar. G suddenly stands for gullible.

Freshmen are usually pretty gullible, anyway. Eager to find a group to settle in with, they start out with anyone who will talk to them. And over time that may shift, or solidify.

My own high school experience was split - we moved, and I went to one school for a semester, then we moved again and I ended up at a different school mid-way through my freshman year.

The first high school was Main Line upper-middle pretty darn crusty. Very much a different world than I came from. Where I was from, the school was made up of college-staff kids, farmer/ranch kids, and laborer kids, in addition to the middle-class general work pool kids. So we had a strong Hispanic and mixed Native American (several nations) presence, a bunch of intellectuals with attitudes but not a ton of money, and a ton of rough-and-tumble practical kids (the farm kids tended to be both strong and grounded, at least the ones I knew). I mainly hung with the Chicano kids (their term, not mine) and Native American kids, because they were no-nonsense, open, accepting, and a lot of fun - without having to have stuff to have fun. They weren't snotty about the other groups except for the student government kids (too uptight for their taste). But otherwise, eh, whatever. In that group, I didn't have to impress anyone, or keep up. Yeah... Main Line was a looooong way from Kansas (or Colorado, in my case).

To start with, while everyone going to my old school was washed, the new school students were all... clean. Clean and pressed and fresh looking and neatly trimmed. It was slightly disturbing. But okay, I settled into that. And then Halloween came around, and the seniors all came in costume. One group came in coordinated 30's gangster costumes. Complete with the fleet of appropriate cars. One group arrived in a limo. They had suits, and full flapper gear with headpieces and jewelry and cigarette holders. Uh.

Seriously not Kansas.

Meanwhile, I hunkered. I was a year younger than everyone else, socially awkward, and I can't even recall what I wore to school, as clothing was a non-item in my mind at that time (I started actually choosing clothing about a year later). I wore my coat all day long, I was wary, I didn't trust anyone. I found one friend in the first semester, who was open, and kind, and asked me about the self-protection attitude with a gentleness that deserved a better response than I had, basically defensive denials. But she stuck around anyway. She was just a decent person.

And then we moved. The new place was... well, maybe closer to my expectations, in some ways. A wide mix of economic and social strata, as well as ethnicities. More violence than where I came from (a lot more, there was blood on the floor my first day of school from someone being knifed, and NOBODY BLINKED... gah!). A friend was shot with a sawed off shotgun in a stairwell after school. He dodged fast enough that he only had a bunch of scars and a moderate hospital stay (caught scatter, not the full blast). Fights were common, and wariness was a good idea.

I got lucky, and the first day of class I had to share someone's text book in French class. She took pity on the new kid (because she's also like that), and we ended up becoming best friends, along with the friends she already had who welcomed me into their group. My wariness wasn't a problem here - everyone was wary. I relaxed a bit, and grew up a lot, and learned a few things (but couldn't count it a great education - some stellar classes, a lot of okay-ish, and more than a few taught by terribly burned out teachers, alcoholics*, and checked-out-waiting-to-retire types).

And now here's Mr G.

First 'friend' he's picked up tells outrageous lies and Mr G believes him. Like he fell three stories while climbing with home-made Assasin's Creed claw hands - one of the mechanisms broke - and has a replacement shin made out of titanium. Only you can't really see the scars. Uh. Really! Yeah, they replaced bone in a pediatric patient with a metal bar, the kid does not limp (despite growth being likely and metal not being grow-y), and there are no scars. Hmm.

Cr*p.

Mr Gullible likes him because he's also into swords. And wears camo to school. And has a chain on his belt. Coooooool.

And that + fabricating coolness makes me soooo not comfortable.

New territory for me. I need him to have a better filter, and he doesn't. He wasn't born with one, and he hasn't really developed one since.

I can't over-boundary it or he'll rebel, right? 

I can't set him up to be at direct odds with the kid who lies with such ease.

He has no finesse - he's as likely to take anything I tell him and just throw it in the other kid's face. Even when I say 'here's background information, and now you need to talk to your grandmother about how to handle this' he lectures her on the background information instead of talking to her about how to handle it. GAH!

Yay for having an 'easy' teen.

Lovely.

Joy.

***

*One of my first real moments of doing someone a service through honesty was telling the alcoholic teacher calmly that I was dropping his Calc class because while he was standing in the hallway drinking, or sleeping at his desk, the kids were rampantly cheating by passing their homework and test papers around, and my sucky grade was because I refused to cheat so got scored on a curve against the cheaters. I could never hope to get a good grade and keep my integrity intact at the same time. He turned white, couldn't even stammer out a denial, and turned and stared at his classroom door with a profound look of 'oh crap'...

The next year he took a leave of absence, and when my little brother got him I think the year after that, he was a dynamic, engaged - and sober - teacher. I never saw him again, but I remembered the feeling of satisfaction that my honesty might have contributed to bringing a good teacher back to being a good teacher (I had no idea the other havoc alcoholism created in lives, but just that much was pretty darn cool). I was probably not the only force in that direction, but from his reaction, I think I was the first one who told him his students were cheating while he drank, and that we knew he was in the hall drinking. I had to take remedial math in college because I was so traumatized by his class. I wish I'd told him after the first class.

I still really want them to grow

Miss M went back to the doctor yesterday, to check in on her GERD resuming. It's been off/on for a bit, but she's been dropping foods from her 'will eat' list, at an age that dropping foods is not normal. Up to about 5, that's normal. After 5 years old, it generally means something is up.

That 'up' could still be normal, but worth checking.

While we were there, we did her growth check. She's 12th%ile for height, 25th for weight.

When she was born, she was about 25th percentile for weight, and a bit under 50th for length. She stuck that for a long time, climbing up the length/stature curve to a steady 50th%ile. And then she started eating more solids after 15 months, and by 22 months had stopped growing. No inches in height between 15 and 22 months. Er. Yeah, normally that's a spurt period. (That's when we figured out she had Fructose Malabsorption, like her brother.)

Her sister R started the same height and ended up two inches taller than her at that point. she is still 2 inches taller.

On a carefully controlled diet, Miss M slowly climbed back up to 25th, then 50th. 50th stuck for a while, and even looked like she was going to continue to cross up the curve slowly. But then as she got more control over eating on her own (away from parental control), she learned how to sneak foods she shouldn't have, and how to make it look like she only had two pieces of fruit that day instead of the four she'd really had, and how to convince one person to give her another when someone else had already cut her off on a safe-in-moderation food.

I've been doing this for years - working the diet, trying to get them stable, watching for the telltale circles under the eyes, watching for the outbursts of bad behavior that indicate that they've overdone something in the last few days. The behavior is the most intense sign, but the one that hurts the most is seeing their growth curves shift.

I just want them to grow, like they 'should' grow. On one damn curve. Not struggling up a curve then plummeting off one or two standard deviations in a few months. At least we only measure growth every six months (spurts make it too hard to follow, since their curves can look like stair steps if you measure in shorter increments). Plus at New Years. That helps a bit to keep it off my 'things to obsess over parentally' list.

Today, I'm going to obsess.

Midparental height, the normal (medically sound) measure of expected growth range, would put them in the 75th-99th%ile range. If I factor in that my family has some shorter people as well, 50th-99th would be reasonable. That includes the 2 standard deviations below the midpoint that is considered likely to be normal. But once you get to three standard deviations below that midpoint, there are 80% odds that something is medically wrong.

Mr B is five standard deviations below where he started, which was 97th. FIVE. My reality check on the medical implications of that (because lost stature also means losses in many systems) is that one of his doctors, the one who dealt with malabsorbing kids regularly, would break a sweat if he didn't eat well on any given day. Literally.

Miss M has the additional complication of being a twin, and the smaller twin at that. Twin studies show that twins tends to catch up to their full growth curve by around 8 years old. Some sooner, a few later, but generally, by then, they're running on the curve they'll stick for life, and if they hadn't already been on it. Miss R was a normal-for-me sized baby, but Miss M was a bit on the small side. The fact that she'd crossed 'up' to 50th%ile in a year or so suggests she was arcing upward to her 'normal' curve. It's hard to say what it genetically would have been, since the curve got torpedoed by the Fructose Malabsorption (plus, in her case, early onset lactose intolerance).

So she's only 2 standard deviations below her maximum, but her maximum was probably nowhere near her settled curve. Sigh.

Mr B has physical signs commonly associated with Cystic Fibrosis (particularly the broadened fingertips) because his aborption is bad enough to mirror the significant malabsorption that comes with CF. He also has a tendency toward the low stature high weight common to kids who over-consume fructose and polyols (that is, kids who overconsume apple juice in addition to other fructose-rich foods). He's fit, and incredibly strong, but is the most likely to shift toward overweight if he lets up on the physical activity.

Miss M is overweight by height, also, though looking at her you'd think she was a rail. Not sure where she's hiding it.

Sound like I'm completely obsessed with growth yet?

I'm not, most days. But after a growth check, I notice. I notice a lot.

I just want them to grow. Like normal kids.

As a parent, I want to never have to wonder what other systems have been truncated by the lack of nutrients coming in from what they eat. To never have to wonder whether they're making it back up the curves or sticking one or slipping again. To never have to wonder how their lives might be different if they'd had that full growth.

High School? Seriously? How'd we get here?

You'd think that the fact that I spent a reasonable number of hours over the last 9 months trying to find an appropriate school for Mr G, and that Mr G graduated 8th grade with a big ceremony and everything, I'd have had time to integrate the fact that he is Going To High School. Like, in a couple of weeks.

Er. No. Not integrated.

He's taller than I am now. He has had a mustache for quite a while. He's 14, and has style, and is trying to take care of his skin (inherited my acne-prone tendency, lucky boy), and is making silver rings (not just wirework anymore, but sterling silver-working including setting stones, the index finger and thumb rings in the picture are his - on his huge not-a-child-anymore hand), and he is eyeballing college programs that have the kind of metalsmith degrees he wants... uh.

Not that I should be surprised, I suppose.

Hmm. High school. That was a pretty mixed experience for me. For epeepunk, not as much - he went to a fantastic Quaker boarding school. Me, I went to the neighborhood school, which had race issues and violence and drugs and administrators who told a friend and I to our faces that they would not report an incident of abuse under a teacher's watch because that teacher was a friend of theirs. Yeah... lovely.

Mr G is not going to that school. As it turns out, he's not going where ep went to school, either. With schools closing to choice in order to pass referendums on capital expenditures (so indistrict residents don't pay to expand a school so kids outside the district can go to that school), some of our options shut down. He didn't get in to the highly competitive private schools (very close with one, and waitlisted on the other but we couldn't hold his enrollment on a 'maybe' answer). Mr G qualified academically for the one remaining open-to-choice public school on our list and (phew!) got in. It was not our parental top pick, but when Mr G visited he liked it best of all of them.

He's going to high school.

What a strange concept.

He's also moving from the top school in the state (has been 1, 2, or 3 in the state for the last 10 years or so, straight through), to a feeder-pattern public school. Even not being a top ranked student or in the top group of classes, he placed into honors or 10th grade classes for everything for which they had such a thing. He's taking computer aided design (CAD) and fundamentals of art as his electives. They have some pretty cool art classes, including sculpture, once he passes the fundamentals classes. Useful for that metalsmithing goal.

I'm glad he landed straight honors classes. It puts him with a good crowd, overall (at least from last year's view into the student body). Now he just has to focus on his college goal all the way through, since the college he wants to go to is globally competitive.

I guess I shouldn't worry or fret, really. He'll learn and grow, regardless. There's more than one right way to get to his goal, just like there is more than one right way to be a parent. It all starts with wanting that outcome, whatever it is. And then watching and learning and tuning as we go, based on the situation as it stands at the time, and the child as he is right in front of us.

I will feel better once the school year starts, I think. I am always the most nervous before the curtain goes up, when waiting in the ER, or before the trip.

Deep breath.

He's a great young man.

He's done a fine job with himself so far.

And we have succeeded in not breaking that yet. 

 

***

Follow-up from the previous post... After the lunchbox incident yesterday that reminded me how much Miss R and I are dissimilar, we had a really good conversation about why I pick things the way I pick them. She listened, and she considered, and then she agreed that if the bag she picks for lunch wears out, she'll pay for the replacement herself. So I'm only out effort to find a new one and not the money. Okay, reasonable trade-off. And it was a logical argument. So much for relying on charm!

Little challenges

I sometimes pretend that my biggest challenges in parenting are the 'big' ones. Dealing with the Fructose Malabsorption constant dietary management or trying to get a child into a competitive high school, or the not-as-unusual-as-we'd-prefer emergency rooom visits. 

But that's not the hard part for me. I do those challenges well.

The biggest real challenges for me are the little crises in the everyday, staying in the moment when I would really rather be doing something else, accepting when I'd rather make them accept. Sticking with the irritating conversation that rubs me the wrong way for reasons I haven't yet figured out (and figuring it out). Noticing when something is small-to-me-but-important-to-them.

Miss R presents me with my biggest ongoing string of challenges.

I don't relate to much of what she wants in life. She's as far from my personality as I think it is possible to get. She cares about status and protocol, and brands, and being popular. She wants flash over substance, and gravitates to style over depth. She would prefer to manipulate or charm than argue or reason. I don't know how to balance that without disparaging the things she values, I don't know how to encourage discipline and finesse and thoughtfulness in the onslaught of sparkly lip gloss and Hannah Montana and Hello Kitty without belittling sparkly lip gloss and Hannah Montana and Hello Kitty.

I personally like quality, and simplicity, and form, and she's seven and a half and wants a lunch box that she buys from a 'real' store (not online from llbean) that has sparkly skulls and crossbones on it.

Okay, at least it is sparkly skulls and crossbones.

But boy, I had to hold myself centered really hard to hear her, and acknowledge that it is important for her to pick out her own lunchbox, to select something that represents her as she wants to represent herself, to get to choose the glittery-and-ephemeral over something that will last and work well and hey, is purple at least! ... and to hear that 'at least' is not good enough when it comes to her things, for the things that she has to carry to school every day.

Acceptant is easier when they're a lot like us.

Respectful is easier when they want the things we want.

Dang it.

Filling out admission forms for schools for Mr G? Nuthin.

Packing up special food for every birthday party so Miss M and Miss R and Mr B can have a treat along with the other kids? Nuthin.

Waiting in an exam room so we can get some staples put in Miss M's head where she split it open? Well, not nuthin, but not as challening some days as just stopping myself from insisting that Miss R just do it My Way, pick the dang Purple Lunchbox, and suck it up.

Sometimes 'suck it up' is the right answer. Today, I think hearing that her image is up to her, not me, is the right thing. Hearing, and accepting, that she and I are really that far apart, and bridging it from my side instead of forcing her to accept my style as her own.

A little moment in time, a non-event in the larger scales of our lives, but for me, a significant little challenge.

Well, that's been a while...

Phew, it has been ages since I posted anything!

Mainly, life has been full. Full of full.

But also, I think I tend to blog more about the challenges, the things I worked on and overcame. It's kind of boring to write about good news. Yeah, we work for our good news, but a lot of it is just who we got as kids.

But I do know that some of that easy-ish that we have now is payoff.

So, when I am laughing with Mr G at bedtime, and teasing him about something or other (maybe about growing a soul patch), and the banter gets around to 'But WHY would you want me to find you annoying, Mom?' it comes out that even if other kids relish complaining about their parents, he sees absolutely no reason to join in. I don't need to give him fodder for the teen angst, because he declines to need it. At least not yet. Because he thinks we're pretty darn fine parents.

And when Mr B is past the urg-I-don't-wanna boundary of changing from one task to another, he more and more often greets the new task with competence and clarity. We still have work to do on the transition skills, but boy does he have the concept of competency, will, and focus. Watching him ride, after nearly five years, is heart-bursting and humbling, because his dedication and love and will, even if not as speedy in development as other kids, is so steadfast. Feeding and tending that until it rooted in him to bedrock was all we did, it was him who grew. What used to be burning passion is now a steady glow of satisfaction. And while it was work to feed and tend that, not every child will grow it - it may not be their way, or it may just be not the right thing for them yet. It was luck that we found (and could feed) that which he could grow.

Miss R, now in school with her brothers (and sister), slowly bringing her ember burn to bear on new ways and things - which means she is rocketing in reading and writing, something she used to avoid. Once she fires up on something, it goes on a while. She's being a leader at school, and kind, and considerate to others. The skills we have worked on endlessly (and with great frustration at the apparent lack of success when it comes to her siblings - or us for that matter) have unfurled at school, the School Child version of her is Fantastic.

Miss M, likewise in school, fierce and sporty and always kind to others. Sporty was a surprise, a bit, though her determination to be friendly to everyone was not. She's become more thoughtfully protective of herself, choosing what she exposes of the things she cares about, keeping her passions out of the limelight where others might dim the shiny with a negative opinion. While I'm sad for the loss of her 'I don't care what YOU think, I like what I like' determination, I had been a little concerned that she lacked some social astuteness. No longer on that - she is balancing the load, allowing for the ways in which she is different without charging through everyone on that point (bringing her stuffed shark to school as her toy for her birthday week, and being happy to put up the photo of her at the shark tank in the aquarium, but not really talking about sharks all that much in social play, for example). 

Ep is immensely patient, which means he hangs on by the tattered edge of frazzle many days, when I'd have been long gone into Yelly Mommy mode. I suck at being the dad, but he's fantastic at being the mom. Pretty fine man, that one. I have a coworker who has taken to calling him Prince Charming. As in, "You'd consider taking a job like that one, huh? How could you manage the commute? Oh, wait, you're married to Prince Charming." Periodically I get in the habit of not talking about Ep, because he is so far beyond what most husbands do. He truly husbands. I'm incredibly lucky.

And me, work is WOW busy, and AAAHHHH! crazy, and fascinating, and energizing, and I love the people I work with still. The tasks engage every place in my brain, scramble my resources (in the scrambling jets kind of way, not eggs), and get me going... far too much.

On top of that, I am now at the age that my peers are starting to 'die young' - so another mother is gone with a child and husband (plus family and friends aplenty) left behind. It is at this age that I think we start to feel 'only the good die young' - it is so incredibly wrong to have these people dying. Unfair. Their loss is not redeemable. And at the same time, the things I learn from what happens and who connects and how we carry on is illuminating. I have made some deeper connections through these losses, too.

All of the good stuff is payoff for the work we have already done, and all the challenges are just opportunities to work on something else, which will in turn have its own payoff. Or not, as I'm sure there are dozens of things I've worked on and forgotten about since. But enough payoff to feel like the work is really starting to be worth it.

Mr G has done his Coming of Age. He's taken on a service project at church of his own will and intention. He and his cousin took over Christmas decorating at my mom's. He is gaining about an inch a month in height. The growing is showing, now. Before it was all tending, and now - look. Look at what they're becoming! It's just awe-inspiring.

It also takes up a lot of time. That plus work (where I'm doing a fair bit of growing, myself).

Oh, boy! Girls have noticed The Boyo... (again/still)

So, Mr G has a wee problem.

He's cute.

Oh, such a problem to have, but given the 12-year-old-girl-hormones-thing, and his tendency to think in terms of 'I am an island unto myself', we have something of a challenge on our hands!

Ah, but the fun, too!

Maybe not so much for him, as he finds it disturbing (though also gratifying by the smile he couldn't quite suppress) to have girls come up and just stand there watching him on the playground. Or talking to him about his hair. Or hearing from his friends that so-and-so likes him.

When he says 'likes me' the sound has italics. 

LIKES. Like, uh, 'that kind of like'. AHHHHH! he says, run away!

He's confounded.

Not sure what to do.

Flattered.

Weirded out.

A bit overwhelmed.

All of that.

And he's Mr G. So he didn't at first buy it - were girls really that hot over him?

So he tested the theory. He went and sat by himself on the playground. Looked pensive, and thoughtful, and solitary. Girls kind of wandered nearer and waved and smiled. The way he said it sounded like they giggled, too, though he didn't say so.

He was freaked a bit by it.

So I told him he had a simple solution - stop sitting by himself looking pensive.

Heh. Kind of like saying 'if it hurts, stop doing it'.

He didn't find that so funny. Darn.

Anyway, we've been talking the last few days as a result, about the Girl Thing. And the Girlfriend Thing.

He was thrilled with the idea that he could use us Parents as a stick to beat them back with. Mr G, if a girl starts getting to the 'would you go out with me/be my boyfriend' level of conversation, you have my direct permission to say, 'Sorry, my parents won't let me have a girlfriend until I'm (whatever age he chooses to say, I suggested 14 was a fair start).'

They might argue or pout or count him out as too reliant on his parents, but hey, still problem solved.

And in the meantime? We talked about how to be friends with a girl. Talked about asking her questions, being nice but not encouraging excess, and allowing her to just be friends. Giving her room and time to chill out a bit, calm down, get to know him for real instead of just watching him on the playground and admiring his hair and his fabo new teeth (braces off!).

I asked him if he thought any of the girls he knew were cute.

I got The Look.

The OhPleezeYouMustBeKidding look. The look had italics, too.

Still, I thought it a fair question. And he gave it a fair thought, but couldn't come up with how to answer.

Me being me, I gave him a multiple choice answer to select from. He picked (very paraphrased as I was rather direct with my comments): "I'm not really interested in prepubescent/near-pubescent girls, thanks."

Okay, so he already has a preference for high school-to-college-age women, with their, er, physiological maturity in evidence. So to speak.

But he's also handling that aspect well - he thinks dating a girl who is not physically demonstrating a greater maturity is kind of freaky. Ew! Girls that age are not ready to date.

He likewise has a strong preference for waiting himself - he thinks both he and his peers should be much more grown up first.

Which isn't to say he won't be looking at the older girls. He already does. He'll admire the older girls/women, but he really does not want to act on it.

Fine by me, all around.

Still, the start of some new conversations. About learning about girls from girls, and understanding that they are different from each other as well as different from him, and being okay with that. I want him to be able to hold to the statement he made when he was seven: that girls are just people, and there's nothing wrong with being friends with them.

It's kind of the Acceptant Loving Faithful thing, starting up for real. A new set of filters to bring in focus - remember that they are themselves, accept that even when you don't understand it, act kindly and with affection toward your friends, and act faithfully toward them and yourself.

Starting with Acceptant for now.

He seems okay with that perspective. Considering it. Taking it seriously. We'll talk strategies for conversations that don't go to heck immediately, and how to set a boundary (and how annoying it is to have to set it repeatedly, but also how very hard it is to fight hormones so some compassion and patience required in the process).

Is it weird that I think it is really really FUN to get to where we're talking sex, and dating, and pornography, and the implications of being too friendly, STDs, social risk, and heartbreak? I am thrilled that he went to Ep first, told him what was going on that was bothering him (Girl. Likes me. Help!!).

I'm also glad he then came to me after talking to his dad, and asked if dad had filled me in (Nope, he hadn't had time, but it was nice to not have shared it yet, on this go, as that set the tone and required he fill me in on the whole deal). And then that he went ahead and told me. Just let the conversation roll.

It's really exciting to me to watch him hit this stage, to see the teen inside the boy peek out, to watch the suppressed satisfaction of being attractive to someone leak out around the edges, but at the same time see the will to make sane choices remain.

I love that we get to have these talks. That he trusts us with it. I don't fool myself that all the kids will be that way with us - they're each so different. But I'm glad I get to have this child for my first run at it. I'm sure I'll make some mistakes, but hopefully nothing too catastrophic.

And meanwhile, I'll let him carry on working on learning how to be friends with girls. Hormonal preteen/tween girls.

Provided they don't go all weird on him, anyway.

Acceptant, Loving, and Faithful in action

My mom has taken my older two kids (Mr G and Mr B) off on a two week jaunt around the US Southwest and West. They're due back on Tuesday night.

It has been interesting as a parent to follow my mental track along this process.

At first, I was very fretful - were they going to be okay, would there be enough that B could eat on his diet, would there be enough that G would like enough to eat. Would they get along with their cousin L, or create friction? Would they be helpful? Safe, Respectful, Kind? Would their choices be Effective, Prudent, True?

I fretted most about food and medicine - health and wellbeing being so core to what a mom's job is.

And then I heaved sighs and winced over behavior. Hormones! Mr G playing it cool, a little too disengaged at times, a little too testosterone poisoned at others. Decorum, please? Show that you understand the rules of society, at least a bit (but still find ways to have real let-down-the-hair fun).

I tracked their routes daily, doing flyovers of what they were seeing on Google Earth. I wrote up notes on Facebook for family and friends, hunted up good photos, thought about what they were doing.

And then...

I let go.

Took me a bit over a week. Which I suppose isn't too bad, given that they're 12 and 8, but maybe a bit long given they're with my mom. It isn't like she'll let them fall through a crack, starve, or make stupid choices. She will let them make mistakes, but just enough room to feel the ouch, and not enough room to cause damage.

The whole point of this trip is that it is a coming of age journey. Being out in the world among strangers, seeing the vastness of our nation, touching down on the things that were our family experience as children (since we grew up in Colorado and spent a lot of summers driving similar routes). They're doing daily journals, and sketching what they see, and tending to their spirits (my mom being the retired minister). They brought an altar cloth made just for this trip, and a chalice to light each day, and things to think about that are beyond just 'wow that's pretty, what's next?'

It's a growing up opportunity for them, and for me.

Acceptant hasn't been too hard for me with my kids - they have always been insistent on being who they are. Any time I don't accept that, humbly, the ouch resides only with me. Authenticity is in their blood, and we have supported that all along, with school choices and activities, discussions over dinner, and listening to the emotional earthquakes they weather through the normal course of life.

Loving, either. Fierce wolf mama, here, but also that easy watching of them with the smile and that sense of being flooded with love, immersed beyond anything that ever was before they were in my life. It permeates every cell and fiber.

Faithful is the harder one for me, so far. Granted, I'm dealing with children, still. I am their backstop, the safety net, and the responsible party. Along with others, of course, but for me this is a deeply held process. My mom was the teacher of competence, primarily. She was the one who taught me how to shop, not by doing it with me, but by talking me through the thinking process, and then sending me off to do it on my own, then discussing the results. She's also the one who stood there looking so loving and sad, as I stood there in her bedroom doorway, and told me that she could not make my choices for me, it was up to me to choose my own way, and that the hardest thing she ever did as a parent was to watch her child struggle and do nothing. It was also the most important. I remember turning away from her doorway, still sobbing in my teenage misery, but feeling stronger somehow, more able, trusted. She had faith that even if I made the wrong choice I could right it again, find my way through. It isn't that she didn't talk with me about stuff, it was just that the decision was mine, when it came to my own life.

Some areas of faithful I have no trouble with, but the totally letting go, having this process be outside my life and control, took a few days.

My mom has only called a few times, and none of those times have I spoken with my children. She's given a little feedback, asked some questions, told the upper level stories of her own experience (having fun, most days).

She called again this morning, and this time talked with epeepunk. He listened, laughed, talked about funds for a couple of additional purchases in Navajo Country. And then hung up.

I expected my gut to go HEY, I NEEDED TO TALK TO HER! I expected to need to be that one step closer in the link between me and them, tighter in the information chain.

But I didn't. I just felt that rush of love, golden flooding through my veins, joy at their joy, humbled again by their presence in my life. Acceptant of their them-ness, Loving as an act of letting them go outside my reach without trying to catch them back at every juncture, and Faithful that they will grow into themselves beautifully along the way, do well, thrive, and where they struggle, find resources and new paths and new strengths and skills. They'll figure it out, not without the net, but without having the net create a single path for them to take.

I miss them, but not terribly. Even the missing them is Acceptant, Loving, and Faithful, now. I think that's good practice for later. Coming of age isn't just for the child, but for the rest of the family to remember that this person is not always going to be a child.

What a fabulous gift for them all.

And now for some research that rocks: drinking

Okay, so work is a little crazy, and summer is here, which means new schedules and trying to stay on top of a lot of different thing.

Summer nanny is FABO, though - so that part is fine. :)

My usual 'break' time is reading research. I have two items that are totally unrelated, but important.

First is thanks to a reader sending it my way (thanks!).

According to this study, which breaks out types of drinking by teens, parenting style definitely does affect how heavily a teen will drink. Best case is scoring high on both warmth and accountability (knowing where your kids are, with whom, that whole 'I need to know where in space my child is, and with whom, even if not exactly what is happening' reaction, applied).

Parents who don't know where their kids are or with whom (but are high on warmth) fall in the hole that happens all the time - hugely higher rates of binge drinking. (almost triple the rate) And the strict but uncaring type still double the rate.

Knowing the metaparenting-related research, that fits in with a lot of other research. High expectations plus warmth tends to create positive behavior. High demand on the content of the relationship (that 'knowing who you are with/where' part, but also expecting communication and not letting things drop just because they're challenging to get through or face resistance) tends to combine well with a positive relationship to improve overall functional maturity.

This ties in a little with the research that shows that even thinking about someone who has good self-control improves one's self-control. (and vice-versa) Being in relationship with someone who is accountable and asks for accountability means you're more likely to respond with accountable/accountability oriented behavior. The modeling comes in at the neurological level.

Granted, peers who are accountability oriented is a big help, too.

There is other research that shows that with twins, the higher their sense of mutual dependence, the lower their risky sexual and alcohol behaviors. It's not just about them when they act, it is about how it affects the people they're bonded with. Feeling accountable is a two-way street, and a sense of being permanently embedded in that web of interaction, not just 'loved' but 'cared about', has a deep impact on the behaviors that result. 

They're not all like that

So, I've been talking about the anxiety thing lately.

Also at home and around others. Miss M doesn't look like a kid with anxiety most of the time. It shows if you know what you're looking for, and certainly under some conditions it is quite clear. But mostly it looks like normal shy.

Miss R, however, has these little freakouts over new things (people, events, etc.) that made us realize that we've coached so much for Miss M, and not at all for Miss R, and now Miss R's skills are a bit behind.

Leap forward to earlier this week, when Miss R had an extraction at the dentist. She got her mommy's tooth eruption pattern, and her front adult teeth come in behind her baby teeth instead of under, so they just hang out being in the way and risking cavities in the adult teeth. Lovely?

When I was a kid, they just left the other teeth in until they fell out on their own. As a consequence, I had very deep gumline (exposing a bit of root) on my lower front teeth for several years until the gumline decided to adjust. Maybe not the best plan.

So, modern approach is to extract if the adult tooth is well erupted but the primary hasn't loosened up much.

Miss R, understandably, was Not Impressed with the plan.

Okay, so let's Coach! Talk through what is going to happen, give her strategies for handling it...

Uh, or not.

Because as soon as I started talking about what was going to happen, she started to freak out worse. Cried, threw things, insisted she wasn't going to cooperate, that she HATED the dentist, she was going to just stay home. Uh. Fail?

So I changed to strategies for coping. Worse! Even just asking her for ideas about what she could do was a fail. Her only strategy was 'refuse to play'.

I quit while I was only about a mile behind where we started.

Sigh.

And then I remembered. (D'oh!)

They're not all the same.

Some kids (and adults) really do function better if they don't think too much about it beforehand, just go in and carry on. We can talk around observing what else is happening at the time (how do others handle it, would that work for me, what are the pros/cons of that approach In The Moment, what else could I try), but talking beforehand? Lightly, seldom, and not directed at pre-planning the strategy, but at pre-planning the meta-strategy (how to figure out your strategy on the fly, rather than figuring out your strategy now).

In the end, the extraction was a success, and had quite the teachable content there, too. She said she wasn't brave, because she cried. Daddy, seeing that moment, caught it and talked about bravery being not the same as not being scared, and that she did it (knowing it was the right thing to do but not wanting to) was evidence of courage on her part.

Learning all around. I re (re re re re) learned that Miss R is Not Like The Others (just as they're all Not Like The Others, only she's Not in different ways than the others...). She learned that she is brave. Even if she doesn't always feel it.

Which, in the end, is rather a lot like the others.