Operation: Childspeak

It can be hard trying to talk to a child.  They often have difficulty expressing what they mean or feel.  You sometimes have difficulty simplifying things in a way that your child can understand.  Communication becomes too much to worry about.  It is easier to instead just use your parental authority and tell it like it is.  Sometimes this works.  Other times, it causes your child to shut down and stop listening, or even become argumentative.  This is the last thing you want.  Communicating in this way slowly pushes your children away.  The key to good communication is what I call "childspeak".
Childspeak begins with listening.  Truly listening.  Don't listen to reply, listen to understand.  Don't get frustrated when you can't understand what your child is trying express.  Do some detective work.  With your child's limited vocabulary, what are they trying to say?  Sometimes it's easy.  "My tummy feels funny."  Your child is probably sick or feeling indigestion.  Sometimes it's more difficult.  "I don't like so-and-so."  Ask clarifying questions.  Why do you not like this person?  What does this person do?  How does this person make you feel?  Speaking with a child takes time and patience.  But through your time and patience, your child is being told that you love them and genuinely care about them.  Listening is the most important part of childspeak.
The next part of childspeak is helping your child understand.  Your child won't listen to you if they can't understand what you are saying.  Or if they're simply not interested in what you have to say.  "I need you to clean up this mess."  You probably say that everyday.  And you probably repeat it multiple times throughout the day, usually regarding the same mess.  When the 6-year old I work with needs to clean up a mess, I don't tell him to clean it up.  "I bet I can get a bigger handful than you can!"  I pick up a handful of toys and put them away.  The 6-year old rushes over to the mess and quickly cleans up, trying to pick up more toys than I do.  Children understand fun.  Make cleaning up fun.
For older kids, try to put yourself in their shoes. Why isn't your child listening?  What usually gets their attention?  I try to start a conversation by asking the boys what they are doing.  If the 11-year old is playing a video game, I'll go sit next to him and ask him about the game.  When I feel he is done telling me about the game and I know I have his attention, that is when I begin talking about what I originally came to talk to him about.  How was school?  Did you get along with your teacher today?  By asking about video games first, I was able to get the 11-year old to relax and open up about something he cares about.  This made it easier for him to continue to open up and speak to me.
It's also very important to admit when you are wrong.  By apologizing, you are showing your child humility.  You are also being an example to them.  Your child is more likely to apologize if they hear you doing so.  The same thing applies to saying "thank you", "please", and "you're welcome".  You are showing your child respect and how to respect.
The last part of childspeak is combining the first two steps.  Listening to your child and then helping them understand what you have to say.  I had a great conversation with one of the boys once after he had a good screaming fit with his mother.  I asked simple questions to figure out why he was so angry, what he feels his mother did wrong.  I then helped him understand his mom's point of view.  I told him that screaming never solves anything.  That his mother is more likely to listen if he spoke nicer.  I then told him what I used to do with my parents when I was frustrated.  I would calmly tell my parents to not speak, just listen.  The key word there is calmly.  My parents would agree to listen without speaking.  This way, I knew I had their full attention.  Instead of the annoying interjections I would normally get from my parents, I was able to fully express myself.  Once I was finished, I would tell my parents that they could talk now.  They would then calmly (key word again!) tell me how they felt about what I had said.  What I had right and what I had wrong.  Nice, civil conversations.
Childspeak is based around love.  And the best way to show love is to listen and understand.  Disagreements will still occur, but by handling a situation calmly, you can learn a lot about your children.  And your children will come to love and respect you even more. 

Giving Thanks

There are so many things to be thankful for.  I am thankful for my family, my pets, my job, my home, my health, and my favorite Italian entree, lasagna.
I love my family.  I am the middle of five kids, and each one of us is different in so many ways.  We all bring something to the table.  We have an athlete, musicians, scholars, comedians, and a manny (You know I had to throw that in somewhere!).  Despite all our differences, we get along swimmingly.  And, we have the greatest parents anyone could ask for.
And don't forget the quadrupeds!  I treat my cat like she is my daughter.  I have never loved an animal as much as I love my cat.  The family dog is pretty awesome, too.  The family cat is sweet, but annoying.
I love my job!  But you already knew that.  Yesterday, I asked the boys what they are thankful for.  The 13-year old is thankful for "having a family".  The 11-year is thankful for "family too, I guess".  And the 6-year old is thankful for "rainbows, roller coasters, trains, and skateboarding".  I told the boys that I am thankful for them because without them, I wouldn't have a job.  "What?!"  The 6-year old didn't like that answer.  "I'm also thankful to have you guys as my friends" I added with a smile.
I still live with my parents.  But I try not to complain.  At least I have a roof over my head, even if it does make funny noises in the winter.  There is food in the fridge and pantries.  Blankets when it's cold.  Fans when it's hot.  I can't complain.
I am thankful for my health, even though I tell people I'm a 90-year old in a 26-year old's body.  My health isn't perfect, and it may never be.  But it could be worse.  I could come down with consumption!
And last of all, I am thankful for lasagna because, well, it tastes good.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

The Manny Diaries pt. 4

Around this time last year, my life changed for the better.  I was hired as a sitter for a family with three awesome boys.  But I don't tell people that I am a babysitter.  I tell them that I am a manny.  The youngest boy just turned 6-years old.  No babies here!  (Though I do sit on him from time to time.)

When I hear the word 'babysitter', I think of the cliché teenage girl who is on the phone with her boyfriend while the kids are running around the house causing mayhem.  That's not me.  I'm with these boys five days a week.  These boys are my walking advertisements, if you will.

I began babysitting around the age of fourteen.  I played with the kids, made sure they didn't hurt each other, put them to bed if needed, and cleaned up after them.  This usually occurred on Friday or Saturday nights.  Looking back, I feel like I was just a supervisor.  Make sure the kids are safe:  check.  Put the kids to bed:  check.  Clean up the toys before the parents get home:  check.  It was the perfect job for a teenage boy who wasn't old enough for a part-time job.  There was a point in my life where I was babysitting just about every weekend.  But that was it.  Just weekends.  I wasn't a daily part of the children's lives.

Now, twelve years later, I have three boys who are a part of my daily life, and I am a part of theirs.  For this reason, I am more than just a supervisor.  I am a friend, a big brother, a mentor.  I am whatever the boys need me to be.  Because I see these boys five days a week, I feel as though I share the important role of raising them.  And let me tell you, I'm not about to raise some ruffian hooligans!  As I said before, these boys are my advertisements.  By teaching them to do right, to make good choices and respect others, I am showcasing my role as a manny.  I am more than just a presence in the house.  I am helping these boys shape their futures.  Ten years from now, I hope to see successful, kind, and compassionate young men.  I want to see that my short time with them paid off.  I love my job as a manny.  I truly care for these boys and only want what is best for them.  This past year has been amazing.  Some days are a struggle.  And some days are perfect.  Either way, I wouldn't change a thing. 

The Golden Rule

A lot of children don't understand the Golden Rule.  I didn't when I was a kid.  Treat others the way you want to be treated.  Well, my big brother just pushed me, so he must want to be pushed back.  Obviously.  It's easy for kids to forget themselves.  They worry too much about how other people treat them.  They don't think about how they should treat others.  What's fair is fair.  He pushed me, so he deserves to be pushed back.
The librarian at the elementary school I attended used the Golden Rule all the time, but in different words.  She always told us that she would show us respect if we showed her respect in return.  This seemed to click in my young mind, and it's stuck with me ever since.  If I want to be respected, I should be respectful.  And that is how I try to live my life.
I don't know why, but it really bothers me when, while I'm driving, I let someone in front of me, and they don't wave a thank you.  How rude!  Until I realized that I rarely wave a thank you.  I've gotten much better since this realization.  I probably confuse some people.  Why is this weirdo waving at me?  I don't know him!  This is the Golden Rule in action.  If I expect people to act a certain way towards me, shouldn't I act the same way towards them?
I have been told multiple times throughout my life that I am too nice.  I also get complimented on my patience a lot.  (And my humility.)  Kindness and patience come easily when you put yourself in someone else's shoes.  I know it's hard, but the first thing to remember is that the world does not revolve around me.  Other people have their own lives too.  Other people have feelings that need to be taken into consideration.  By realizing this, it becomes so much simpler to be kind.  People act certain ways depending on what is going on in their lives.  And because I can't read minds, I decide to just treat everyone the way I want to be treated.  With love and kindness. 

I Am Not My Body pt.2: Labels

Last week, while doing his homework, the 13-year old made a discovery.  He knew that he had ADD, but he never really understood what the letters stood for.  All he understood was the 'attention' part.  He came downstairs proclaiming "I know what ADD is now!  I have a disorder?" to which his mother came up with a brilliant reply:
"You don't have a disorder.  You have a superpower.  Your ADD is your cape."
My boss mom and I then tried to explain to the 13-year old the good things that his ADD gave him.  He is better at multitasking, he is very intelligent.  And what amazes me is that this bright young man gets straight As in school.  That in itself is a super power to me.
I was diagnosed with ADD about a year or two after graduating high school (which explains why I almost didn't graduate.).  For the next year or two, I blamed everything on my ADD.  I would tell people, "I'm ADD.  It's what I do."  Looking back now, I realize how ridiculous I was being.
First of all, I am not ADD.  I have ADD.  A mental disorder is not a label.  A person isn't bipolar.  They have a bipolar disorder.
Think of it this way.  I get migraines.  Therefore, I am a migraine.  Doesn't make sense, right?  So why label people with mental disorders as ADD/ADHD.  I am not a migraine.  I get migraines.
So, "I'm ADD" was the first wrong thing I said.  The second was blaming my ADD for the way I acted.
Again, I am not ADD.  My mental disorder does not control me.  I have ADD.  I also have a cat.  And a car.  As difficult and expensive as it gets to keep my cat in good health or my car in good shape, I am still in control.  If my cat gets sick, my life may cycle around her.  If my car breaks down, my life changes, but only until the car is fixed.  If my ADD tells me to look at the stain on the ceiling that looks like Robert de Niro instead of listening to my professor's lecture, I tell my ADD no.  Mr. de Niro can wait.
I am not ADD.  I am not anxiety.  I fight to control my ADD and anxiety.  These are my superpowers, that I am in control of.  I am Philip.  I am not my body.