Posts Tagged ‘Nerves’

by Brook, Contributor, Baby & Sofia (@babyandsofia)

I come from a family of swimmers.  My husband comes from a family of swimmers. We have both grown up living on the coast, where swimming at the beach, at the pool, at the lake, and, well, any body of water, really, is the absolute favorite form recreational activity.  Our mothers took us swimming before we could walk.  So, naturally, I have done the same with our baby boy.  And, luckily, Paolo loves the water.  Bath time is his favorite; he splashes and giggles and kicks and squeals in the tub.  He loves the ocean, the pool, and the lake.  Even when the water feels icily cold to me, he loves it.

What he does not love, however, is water on his face. In. Any. Form.  When I wash off his face in the morning with a warm washcloth, the baby behaves as if I am actively torturing him.  When I wash his hair, any droplets from the rinsing action will send him into a tizzy.  Forget the shower.  He screams at the shower, even if it is only a foot that is under the running water.  As a water-lover, you can imagine my concern.

I decided to nip this little problem in the bud by enrolling us in a Mommy & Me swim class at the local pool.  Maybe with the help of a professional, Paolo will learn to “blow motorboats” and quit freaking out over the occasional splash of water in the vicinity of his face.  I was super excited for Paolo’s first “swim lessons.” I mean, I didn’t plan to have him submerge his entire noggin, just learn to tolerate water on his face.

So off we went, to our 9:30am swim lesson.  There were two other mommy and child pairs, both other children were 2 years old.  And they didn’t seem to love the water as much as my little one, who is still only 9 months old.  So I was feeling pretty confident that we were off to a great start.  The instructor was sweet, and she came armed with a basket of water toys and an arsenal of songs to sing that encouraged water play.  Paolo loved it; he splashed and played and laughed.  At least on the first day.  On the second day, we continued on, singing and playing. I was loving it.  (Well, except the freezing pool water.  This hot Midwest summer wasn’t doing much to warm up the pool!)

By the third day, Paolo was a little more apprehensive of the water games, as he had figured out that they all involved a little splashing.  We tried to “motorboat.” Hah!  He hated it.  The fourth and fifth days went about the same, with Paolo resisting the play and just wanting to cuddle me. (I know, I didn’t think it was possible, but you can cuddle your baby while holding him with you in the water.)

The swim lesson was fun for me, as I was introduced to a few other moms. Being new to the area, we haven’t really met anyone yet, so it was nice to meet other women in the community.  Paolo, however, did not really benefit from the class. He still refuses to let water flow anywhere near his face.  I didn’t force the “motorboat-ing,” so he is not afraid of the pool, but he certainly did not gain any new confidence in the water.

While I wish we could have taught him to allow water near his head, I must say that I am okay with a certain amount of fear on his part.  Over-confidence can be very dangerous for babies and toddlers when it comes to water play.  And let’s face it, Paolo is only 9 months old, with plenty of time to learn to be comfortable in the water.  The Mommy & Me class was fun, but, I must say, we would have been just as happy with our regular trips to the pool, splashing around on our own.

Have you taken a Parent/Child swim class? What your experience?

By Kelly, Guest Writer, the miller mix

When I was growing up, one of the best parts of summer was summer camp. I’d anticipate my week (sometimes two) for months in advance, mark down the days on my calendar, and get heady with excitement when it came time to shop for the supplies list. But my son is a different kid than I was.

Where I was buzzing with excitement at just the prospect of camp, my son is wracked with anxiety. Where I talked non-stop and flitted from one packing project to another, my son has emotional meltdowns and physical tantrums that increase in intensity and duration as camp gets closer.

My son has attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). While most people think of children with ADHD as extremely active and highly distracted (which he totally is), this disorder affects more than how a child behaves — it also affects how he processes and reacts to stressful situations. And, for my son, leaving the comfort and security of home is highly stressful.

I am not a mean parent who forces her child to go somewhere he doesn’t want to go. Quite the contrary, actually. My son loves being at camp. Last year, when he got off the bus after his week away, his first words were, “When can I go back?” He wrote a letter that said simply, “You were right, Mom. This is fun! Gotta go. I’m playing spoons with my friends!”

It’s not being at camp that’s the problem. It’s the packing, the leaving, the uncertainty of where he’ll sit on the bus and who will be in his cabin. It’s the worry that he won’t have some crucial item he needs (this year, all 55 of his silly bandz) or that he’s forgotten something. It’s the crushing anxiety that something will go wrong, that things will change for the worse, that nothing will be the same when he returns. It’s the hard-wired inability to process these emotions and stop worrying.

So in the face of this days-long trauma that I see him undergo even when he’s just attending a day camp, we’ve developed an arsenal of skills that help ease his worries. These strategies are extremely helpful for children with disorders like my son’s, but they’re also useful for that first-time camper or the one who is sleeping away for the first time. Give them a shot and let me know how it goes.

1. Involve him in the process. There are many camp opportunities. In my rural area, we have more than 20 to choose from — from one-day camps to weeks away from home. As a novice camper mom, I used to schedule him for as many as we could afford. Big mistake. Now, I sit down with him and ask him which he thinks are interesting.

I don’t ask him which he’d enjoy because he’d tell me none. He likes to be here with the family and he’s anxious of change, so I don’t fall into that trap. Picking out what he thinks is interesting shows me where he’d go if he were a kid who’d admit that kind of thing. Then I choose one per month. That’s all. Three camps out of 20. As he gets older, maybe we’ll move to four — maybe not.

2. Remind him how much fun camp is. Often, children focus on what may be rather than what is. If they start to venture down the “no one’s going to like me” path, steer them toward more positive talk. Bring up their favorite memories to help them focus on what they know rather than what they don’t.

For instance, starting a few weeks before camp, I start reminding my son about all the fun things he did last year at camp. “Tell me again about the archery course,” I’ll prompt, knowing that he excelled at archery. Or, “don’t you hope they play the Cha Cha Slide at the dance?” I’ll say with a smile, knowing that’s his favorite song to dance to.

3. Be gentle with his time. Many parents have the tendency to overschedule their children. I’ve found that children respond to transition and stress better when they have the time and space to think and feel. That means no swimming lessons or long days of errand running or friends spending the night.

Quiet days. Quiet, introspective activities that allow your child to stay calm, which allows his brain to work. For us, it’s days of drawing, taking hikes, watching birds. For you, it might be swimming at dusk, a family bike ride, or puzzles. The point is to not add more stress onto your already-stressed-out child. If you can’t do it all day, carve out some time each evening.

4. Prepare for the worst. Sounds like I’ve been spending too much time with my son, but this really works for me. I expect my son to have major meltdowns, to throw things, to storm away, to refuse to get in the car. Because I expect it, I’m prepared with the tools I’ll need most: patience and compassion. When his face goes dark, I take a deep breath. The storm may pass, and it may not, but I’m prepared because I expected it.

I’ve given up on seeing my kid off to camp with a big smile on his face. I’ve given up on the dream that he’ll want to help shop for supplies or tell others how cool it is that he gets to go. I’ve given up on the anger or frustration that I’ve done all of this work for him to have a cool summer experience. Those are things that are about me — not him. And I laid them down a long time ago.

Here’s what I’ve gotten in return: A much smoother send off process. A kid who loves every minute of camp once he realizes the world won’t end while he’s gone. A camper who returns to me with the biggest smile on his face, days’ worth of great summer camp memories, and a crumpled piece of paper with new friends’ names and addresses. Oh, and a boy who plays a mean game of spoons.

Believe me. It’s so worth it.

By Julia

I was so nervous. I don’t know why. I mean, I really like this person. So why was my stomach in knots?
 
To avoid being shot down in person, I approached them by email. Perhaps the thought of saying “no” over the internet is slightly less humiliating.
 
To my delight, I got a resounding YES! We set up a date and time. Unfortunately, I didn’t really have anything planned. I was just going to see what happened and go from there.

I paced the house as the time approached. Drinks- check. Food- not really. Oh no, should I have prepared food? Would they feel like eating? I don’t even know what they like!
 
It’s time… They’re running late. Oh my gosh, I bet they aren’t going to show. Maybe they don’t like me that much. Maybe I came on too strong. Maybe I should’ve invited other people. Oh, I don’t know. I’m so new to this.
 
Finally, they show up, pull in the driveaway and I peer through the curtains in hopes of not being seen.  I don’t want to look like a fool. (Too late)  Knock, knock.
 
Gulp.  Here goes nothing….
 
We greet each other, have small talk, I offered drinks but none were taken.  Just a small glass of water. I brought out a few toys, but I wasn’t really sure what interest they would have.  About an hour and a half passed and I could tell they were getting antsy to go. It’s probably time to leave. They look tired.
 

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We said our good-byes and parted our ways.  I wonder if they’ll ever want to do that again. Maybe next time I should have something planned and organized.  I bet most non-virgins know all the “rules” and have tons of ideas.  Can’t help it.  It was my first time.
 
That’s right… my first time hosting a playdate.
 
Lessons learned.
 

What are some of your favorite things to do with other kids and moms when you host a playdate?

I’d love to get some ideas so my second time isn’t so… boring!

With 2 toddlers attached to her hip and hair thrown in a ponytail on an almost daily basis, Julia blogs at Work, Wife, Mom… Life. She’s a full-time working mom who tries to balance it all with her faith holding her together.