Red hearts, dancing cupids, and glitter are all over the place. It’s Valentine’s Day on Saturday. It’s my chocolate fix between Christmas and Easter. And my little kids are learning about making friends, sending handmade cards in the mail, and having the mailman bring them an envelope with their name on it!! It is pure joy, a minor holiday wrought large because you are three and four and don’t have presents that are too big and a celebration that is too noisy. The parents, though, are exhausted. Simply wrung out. Every holiday is just one more extra thing to prepare for and do. They run from therapy to therapy and try to understand exactly what is “wrong” with their child. Children who transition from early intervention into the public school system at three are in a particularly awful situation. Their parents are not told anything about how public schools work, and they largely trust the people with college degrees on the Child Study Team. Those I see now are young parents with extremely diverse backgrounds. But they share a common experience. They are never told that they are joint and equal partners with the school personnel in determining their youngster’s individualized services. Yesterday I asked such a family, a college educated Mom and Dad who were both teachers, what they expected to happen at their first meeting with the child study team before their child turned three. They said, “They’re going to tell us what services they’ll give. We’ve been told to look at three different schools.” They were completely flabbergasted when I told them this was not the way it worked. Every family leaving early intervention tells me the same thing. They are little lambs being led to slaughter, earnest, intense and loving. They want to be the perfect parent, do everything to help their young child improve. Or they are not the perfect parent and want their child just to be quiet for five minutes so that they have a brief respite from the relentless caregiving and lack of sleep. Or they are angry at the brazen betrayal of their dreams for a healthy child. No matter what kind of parent, they forget to love themselves while they reach into their gut for the courage to face an unknown future. Parents must be nurtured and supported in the early days of visiting special education, for they are as vulnerable as their child.
Alice D. Domar is a psychologist and author of “Be Happy Without Being Perfect.” She writes about the unhappiness that accompanies perfectionistic tendencies. I must admit that I encourage these tendencies a little in the parents I work with. Keep careful records. Learn as much as you can about the child’s disability, about the laws controlling special education, about your community. You are your child’s primary teacher. Structure your home and what you do so that there is a routine and each person knows what is expected of the other in the home. But there is also goofiness and playtime and laughter thrown into this, all mistakes providing the opportunity to improve. The only thing that must be perfect is the love for the child. And, though it is hard to admit, it is difficult to love some children.
Domar makes 5 basic recommendations for those of us who tend to be perfectionistic:
Special education is only a part of your life. Put it in perspective with everything else. Make yourself a valentine, for this is the week of silliness. Lighten up. Have a piece of chocolate with caramel inside.