parentwell

Learning through Living

2012-02-10T12:56:00.000-08:00

I work for a company that provides help for troubled teens and their families. I'm not a therapist. I'm not a counselor. Most of the time I'm not even a very good mom. Fortunately, they don't factor that in when considering my job performance.

But I often learn interesting things about parenting in general and teen therapy in particular. So I've decided that since I'm not claiming to be an expert on anything, I'm going to start sharing the little stories I run across in the course of my daily work.

Join me in my journey and leave your two-cents worth.

Here's my one of my favorite teen help stories. It's a video about an abandoned horse named DJ. It shows you what awesome people I work with. And really, how great is it to have a job where you can share stories like this?

http://oxbowacademy.net/video?id=rESb3-y8p8U

The Power of Example

2011-04-14T16:27:00.001-07:00

When I was a kid, at least once a week my mom would make what she called "creamed tuna" for dinner. It is exactly what you're thinking: a can of tuna fish stirred into a thin white sauce and served over toast. It was probably a good way to stretch a can of tuna far enough to feed five kids.

I hated creamed tuna. I vowed that when I was an adult I would never, EVER, fix creamed tuna for my family. After almost 30 years of marriage, I've held true to that vow. There have been tuna casseroles, tuna sandwiches, and tuna salad. But no creamed tuna has ever turned up on our dinner table.

As adults, we often repeat the patterns of our parents no matter how committed we are to avoiding them. From our earliest infancy they become our template for life. And that can have much broader implications than we ever dream.

Recently I was sitting with some young adults who were participating in a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. As addicts, they shared their stories of how they became hooked on drugs or alcohol and the ensuing chaos of their lives.

They almost all began using as tweens living at home. One young man said his father grew marijuana at their home and had no problem sharing it with his son. He described his dad as, "a burned out hippie from the 70's so you know he's got a few brain cells gone." Eventually, the boy moved on to much harder drugs. Even as his son struggled for sobriety, the father could not see the harm in having his stash. No big deal.

Contrast that with the experience of a 20-something young woman in the group. As a young teen, her substance abuse was an occasional drink or pill at a party. But depression and series of drug using boyfriends took her down a road most of us can only imagine. She tried meth and was immediately hooked. She endured her boyfriend's beatings, sometimes even encouraging them, in order to get drugs. She frankly admitted she slept with anyone who could supply her drug needs. She began cutting herself. She was homeless and slept wherever she could find a place to crash - no matter how dirty or vile it may be.

At her lowest point, she said she woke up one morning and looked around. She told the group, "I said to myself, 'My parents taught me better than this. I know better than this.'" She walked out, checked herself into rehab, and has never gone back. Although they divorced when she was a child, this young woman said her parents had created good homes for her and made it a point to teach her right from wrong.

When we think our influence, our example, doesn't matter - it does. When we think our children have tuned us out for the zillionth time - they haven't. When we think our personal, private actions aren't that big a deal - they are.

We are the template for our children's lives. They may not do everything the way we did. But some of the most important decisions they make will be reflections of our own.

I think of these young adults and their daily battle for sobriety almost every day. And I say a silent prayer for them. I am a great believer in prayer. I learned it from my mother.

Past Meets Present

2011-04-09T19:09:00.000-07:00

I spent this weekend braving 50 mph winds, dropping temperatures and seven inches of new snow to be with my other "family."

We have no biological connection. But all of us have come to experience wilderness therapy in one form or other. As a video producer, it's some of the most difficult work I've ever done. As a mom, I've heard some heart wrenching and inspiring stories of teens who were lost, then found, through their struggles in the wilderness.

This weekend the RedCliff family decided to hold reunion - inviting prior graduates, staff, and parents to meet again in the southern Utah desert. It wasn't about re-creating the wilderness experience that helped these students, now young adults, change their lives. It was an opportunity for them to stand on the summit of their lives thus far and see how far they've come.

Knowing a little bit about how hard wilderness therapy is, it's difficult to imagine anyone would willingly return to such a spartan existence, even it's only for a few days. But come they did. 47 parents and students from as far away as Australia and the UK.

As I sat shivering in the kiva, listening in on my first Narcotics Anonymous meeting, I was amazed to hear their stories of triumph and tragedy - even after leaving RedCliff the first time. Some had stumbled again into drugs or drinking. But all of them referred to their wilderness therapy experience as the first time they had come face to face with themselves their capacity to succeed.

Telling someone you understand wilderness therapy because you've been camping is like telling someone you're a professional ballerina because you've worn dance slippers.

These students, some who graduated as long as seven years ago, were back amongst peers who truly understood and respected what they had accomplished, both in the wilderness and the daily battle for sobriety and strength since then.

They were home. I was honored to be with them.

Trying Out Three

2011-03-15T09:44:00.000-07:00

My granddaughter recently turned three. As her birthday drew closer she became increasingly excited and equally convinced she was turning five. Her Grandma Hamblin has a wonderful tradition of taking the birthday child on an all out day of celebration. While traveling in the car Grandma Hamblin said to Olivia, "Tomorrow you'll be three!" The response: "No. I'm five." "No," Grandma Hamblin said. "You're three." Then she added reassuringly and with great enthusiasm, "Three is the best age in the whole world. Three is awesome!" Livi thought about it for a minute and then said, "OK, I'll try it."

There's a lot of wisdom packed into that little bundle of energy. Life may not always bring us what we think we want. But what we have can end up being wonderful if we're willing to try it out.

Thanks, Liv. And happy birthday!

It's Not Too Late

2010-07-19T17:12:00.000-07:00

I went to Oxbow Academy today to shoot equine imprinting. It's a fancy term for the simple process of handling a new baby horse while it is only days old in order to help the horse feel comfortable with human touch. The theory goes that if the little one is used to having his ears rubbed, hooves examined, and face stroked he won't be frightened when it comes time to wear a halter or be treated by a vet. Horse professionals say the animal won't run from humans entering the corral. Instead, he'll greet them. Sounded good to me. But what does this kind of horse theory have to do with teen boys who have been victims of sexual abuse, many of whom have, in turn, touched others inappropriately. How does this help them?

Brita and Tony North, the horse pros at Oxbow let me watch and find out. One at a time the boys enter the corral and slowly approach the mother, who is halter-held by Brita. Tony has his arms around the wobbly baby. Tony, the mother and baby, and the Oxbow student are all almost nose-to-nose as the boy tentatively pats first the mare and then slowly moves to her baby.

Stroking the tiny horse's velvet nose, then running hands down its neck, softly tickling its belly, and slowly lifting the spindly legs to tap tiny hooves.

Brita is softly talking to the boys, explaining the mare must trust that they will not hurt her baby. Their movements must be slow and careful. If alarmed, she will do whatever she must to protect her foal.

In each boy the reaction is different. Some seem stone faced and unimpressed. Those are often the newest students to arrive at Oxbow. Others are filled with wonder at the foal's fragile little body. Most ask for a second chance to stroke the little horse again.

Now Brita explains to the boys that as prey animals, it is ultimate act of trust for the mare to allow them close to her baby. And for the baby to allow the boys to temporarily disable it by lifting its legs is the essence of vulnerability. There is no chance to run or escape in that condition.

She asks the boys, "Are you giving your therapist a leg?" An odd question, but one they immediately relate to. Are you being honest? Have you disclosed everything from your past so your healing present can begin? Are you sincere in your work and willingness to turn the horror of your past into the hope of your future?

Brita tells the boys the night the foal was born she went to the corral every two hours to help the mare learn to nurse her baby. Her udder was swollen and sore and the nursing process was painful for the first few tries. Gradually, the swelling subsided and the thristy baby could nurse completely.

She asked the boys, "Do you think it is painful for your parents to help you deal with your sexual issues?" The boys share the reactions of their parents, particularly their mothers, when they disclosed sexual behaviors. "Your parents," Brita tells them, "are standing by you. It is difficult for them but they are determined to give you the tools you need to succeed." Her voice drops a notch. "That's why you're here," she says, gently, giving each of them a long look.

Brita continues, "All of you should have had someone to give you appropriate touch the moment you were born. Some of you didn't. For some of you, that trust was betrayed. Does that mean it's too late for you?"

Almost in unison the boys shake their heads no. But one student asks, "If the mom didn't learn imprinting will she turn on her baby? Will she reject her baby?" His question is loaded with concern.

"Will it matter what she does," Brita responds, "if her baby learns the tools he needs to behave appropriately?"

The boys think about this in silence for a while. Another student asks, "How long do most horses live?" The intention is clear. What he really wants to know is how long does a foal that hasn't been imprinted have to "get it," to re-learn the fearlessness of positive touch?

Brita's answer is simple. "Not nearly as long as you will. You can take these tools and create a happy, safe life."

Almost on cue the little foal skitters away and the mare moves to a protective stance between baby and boys. Lesson over.

Live Like Your Kids are Watching

2010-07-02T12:01:00.001-07:00

It's not the lectures we give but the life we live that teaches our children the most powerful lessons. Susan Stiffelman wrote a great article on this. Thought you might enjoy it as well:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/susan-stiffelman/parenting-advice-live-lik_b_603428.html

Teens and Porn

2010-07-01T18:02:00.000-07:00

A recent Tweet questioning the value of porn blockers reminded me of an article I did a couple of years ago for counseling magazine. I'm including excerpts of it here because I think it's even more timely today. If you're interested in the complete article, please visit http://www.oxbowacademy.net/blog

Teens and Pornography: The Frightening New Addiction

*Names have been changed to protect privacy

Looking back, *Tom remembers the morning the nightmare began. It was 5:30 a.m. Summer vacation meant his 15-year-old son, *Jason, should be sleeping in. Instead, Tom was surprised to find him at the family computer. He was even more stunned when he saw what his son was doing.

"He was looking at porn," Tom says. Specifically, Jason was watching child pornography. "It was about as hard core as you could get."

Jason was ashamed and embarrassed and promised his parents he would never do it again. They thought their son was "just curious" and believed him. The family had recently moved and the computer's filtering system was down. Tom installed a new blocking program and made sure it was working.

They were devastated when they discovered their son, on at least two other occasions, had hacked through the system to find porn.

In the meantime, Jason was spiraling downward at school. Formerly a straight 'A' student, the teen began failing his accelerated classes.

"We suspected drug use," Tom recalls. He began drug testing his son and carefully monitoring his behavior and friends. Every drug test turned up negative.

"He proceeded to get worse until it reached a point where we couldn't get him to do anything at home. He wouldn't even take a shower, brush his teeth, or get ready for school," Tom remembers.

You can read the rest of Jason's story at http://www.oxbowacademy.net/blog

Baby On The Way

2010-06-25T13:44:00.000-07:00

My oldest daughter is pregnant - sort of. She and her husband just completed the home study required by the adoption agency in preparation for their second child. Three hours, dozens of pages of paperwork, and a personal interview later they are ready to advance to the second round of adoptive aerobics.

We talked about it last night at the park as their two-year-old, Olivia, was trying to coax a calf to come and nibble on the stick she poked through the fence.

How do you handle conflict as a couple? How do you handle discipline? What is your spouse's greatest strength? What is his/her greatest weakness? If the home you grew up in had a motto, what would that motto be? What lessons from your parents' home did you take with you in creating your own home? These are just a few of the questions the agency interviewer posed.

As they have been gathering financial statements, letters of recommendation, and getting medical exams, I've been thinking a lot about the woman I may never meet - their baby's birth mother.

If my new grandchild arrives this fall, his or her birth mother is entering the final trimester of her pregnancy. How is she doing? Is she healthy? Is she worried about the impending delivery? Has she already made the decision to place her baby for adoption? In her quiet moments does she wonder about us - the family she will pick for her child?

It's probably a good thing most of us don't get to "choose" our family. Really, would you have willingly chosen your Aunt Sophie or Uncle George or even your brother Jimmy? All it takes is one good family reunion to see how biology has betrayed you, how nature and nurture were somehow on a collision course.

What an awesome responsibility to choose a family. To choose a child. To set aside everything you don't know and everything you do and take or place a child.

Birth mothers and adoptive mothers have more in common than I ever realized. Both pledge with heart and soul to give an innocent the opportunity for the kind of family life and love we all long for.

Baby dear, where ever you are, you are loved.

Facebook or Face Time?

2009-08-06T15:40:00.000-07:00

I read an article recently by the Associated Press about how family time in the United States is dwindling. According to a study by the Annenberg Center for the Digital Future, "28 percent of Americans interviewed last year say they have been spending less time with members of their households. That's nearly triple the 11 percent who said that in 2006."

The article continues, "The decline in family time coincides with a rise in Internet use and the popularity of social networks. Facebook has more than 200-million users, up from 100-million last August."

Think about it. When was the last time you had a conversation of any length or meaning with the people you live with? I get more information from my teenaged son in a text message than I do a dinner appearance. Does that mean someday we will sit across the table from one another, speechless, while our fingers do the talking with "friends" across the world?

Quoting the AP article again, Michael Gilbert, a senior fellow at the Annenberg Center, said, "Most people think of the Internet and our digital future as boundless, and I do too. But it can't be a good thing that families are spending less face-to-face time together. Ultimately it leads to less cohesive and less communicative families."

Time to tame the technology.

Celebrating life

2009-06-24T15:46:00.000-07:00

June is typically a month filled with graduations of all kinds - preschool, middle school, high school and college. Yesterday I attended a graduation unlike any other. It was at Oxbow Academy.

Only one student was graduating. His favorite teacher, his therapist, and a fellow student all spoke. Then his father took the podium. Battling back tears, this man stood for several minutes trying to compose himself. When he was at last able to speak, this is what he said:

"A year ago at this time I thought the chances of attending your funeral were much greater than attending your high school graduation. I am so proud of you. I am so thankful for this place and for how far you've come."

The graduate had been sexually abused for years as a small child by a trusted neighbor. In turn, he lashed out with anger and abuse to young children within his family circle. In desparation over what had been done to him, and what he had done to others, he attempted to take his own life. No one discovered his secret and no one knew how to help him - until now.

His past is filled with pain and regret and mistakes that can't easily be righted nor ever fully repaired. As for his future, that remains to be seen. His family and many members of his community are ready to welcome him home with open arms and a detailed relapse prevention plan.

So the boy who stands on the threshold of the future leaves Oxbow and re-enters life. His high school diploma, as difficult as it was to earn, is the least of his accomplishments. He has survived brutal abuse, sought help for his own victims, and battled every day for more than a year to understand what happened, why, and how to end it forever.

This is a graduation to remember.

Ordinary People

2009-06-16T19:26:00.000-07:00

It's the end of a slightly tempestuous summer day. The weather has little to do with the storm brewing in my own home. My 17-year-old son is out of school and, since he has no formal job, I've taken it upon myself to make sure his summer consists of more than "hanging out."

Today my version of summer vacation consisted of pulling the mouldings off the walls in the office, filling the nail holes, and preparing for a new paint job. His version had something to do with ESPN, txt, and ATM.

I'm convinced a productive, happy life involves more than acronyms. And therein lies the disagreement - and one more hole to patch. My son punctuated his exasperation with a wall smack that was much more aggressive than a high five.

I chose my blog name not because I consider myself an excellent parent, but because I'm always looking for ways to do a better job at the only job I believe really matters - being a great parent.

Share your experience and maybe we'll all get better at it.