Overparenting and Being the Mother of a Disabled Child
November 13, 2008 by Kristina Chew, PhD
Filed under Health
Yes, I overparent.
It often seems to me that it’s harder than not to do this when you’ve a child with a disability. In yesterday’s Arizona Daily Star Johanna Eubanks writes about the ongoing difficulties that she, and other mothers of autistic children, have to take time for themselves; to take care of themselves.
Of course, there are marked differences in the overparenting I’m talking about, and the “helicopter”/”hothouse”/”death-grip” parenting parents who aim every effort from pregnancy on to making sure their child will be material for the Ivies as described by Joan Acocella in the November 17th New Yorker. Overparenting is kind of a way of life around here, whether in directing your every energy to taking care of a disabled son whose communication skills are—-while better with each day—-minimal and not always verbal; in writing daily emails to his teacher to explain all the things that he doesn’t; in strategizing how to spend another long afternoon together in a (hopefully) at least semi-productive way.
Again, I’m not sure I could adequately take care of Charlie without being over-scrupulous, closely considering (if not obsessing) about minute details of his education, health, reactions to food and things that happen, sounds, the weather. Like many parents, I simply feel strange and always keep turning around, keep listening for a certain warbler voice, when Charlie is not with me, as if I’ve developed a sixth sense, a radar, that hones in immediately to where he is and how far or near.
One of the few places where I’m able to let that high-intensity parenting state subside a bit is when Charlie’s in the pool. Wednesday afternoon, we’d first gone bowling and—it was just past 5.30pm—-it was already totally dark. Soon after we’d gotten home, Charlie appeared from his room in his swimsuit and told me, with a smile, “black car.” The only other personswimming in the double-laned family/free swim section of the YMCA pool was an adolescent girl who was doing partial laps of freestroke and backstroke while her mother gave suggestions from a bench.
Jim’s often said that Charlie’s safer in the water than on land and this just seems to be more and more true. While I used to have to tail Charlie (so he wouldn’t swim into the lanes where people were doing laps), I usually go about my own business of swimming laps. Charlie likes to take his time to get into the pool and then (of course, there’s always lifeguards watching) do his own thing. So I go up and down and up and down the pool while he’s ducking under the water, backfloating, swimming half the length of the pool in no time at all, all with a kind of effortlessness in his movements.
Charlie’s not swimming to practice for any competitions. We swim because we like to. Further, the fact that I can swim is, perhaps, a by-product of (over)parenting Charlie. Before Charlie, I hated swimming and was terrified of being in water over my head. Because of Charlie, I learned to swim in the indoor pool of the town we used to live in. Thanks to Charlie, I can do something, swimming, that I spent the better part of my life avoiding and fearing and that I now not only enjoy, but thrive on.
Maybe it’s ironic, but the pool is, indeed, the one place where I’m not the over-parent, but just another person in the water.
Ben really has “fish tendencies” in the water. He rises above, and sinks to the depths with ease. He even has a gap in his front tooth that allows him to “spurt” like a whale. I laugh, although I’m thinking I wouldn’t want that stuff in my mouth.
I have no athletic ability. The only thing I ever did was learn to swim. It was the one athletic “gift” I could give to Ben. That, and Qi Gong (breathing exercises).
I am glad to hear you enjoy swimming, too. There is a freedom to the water, once you get around the fear of dying! I’m sure there is a symbolism to life’s journey there somewhere…
Isn’t it true that our generation of parenting is all about “overparenting?” And the next generation isn’t going to be so inclined.
And every parent of an autistic child needs to overparent–it’s the nature of the issue (s).
Blogged with a link. Thanks for this post. I really identify.
http://homeschoolnetc.blogspot.com/2008/11/do-you-overparent.html
We each walk in our own mocassins.
I’ve known some helicopter parents, and in fact, some of them have been fairly close acquaintances–my observation is that it can be annoying, but that for the kids seem to turn out all right, for the most part they have warm relationships with their parents, and quite a few of them did enter the Ivy League, so I guess that it turned out okay from their perspective.
I have some hoverer tendencies for sure, but as long as Eleanor is coming to me of her own accord, and not running from me, that’s one metric I use to tell me that I’m getting the balance right at some level and is the one that matters the most. Even if things look “odd” to outsiders, well, as long as no one is being hurt, it is what it is and I have to figure that that is their issue of perception and not ours. I can take it under counsel as something to possibly teach or talk about, because we live in a society, but I accept that we will be out there and even be “odd”.
I am glad that the water is such a pleasure to Charlie.
Regan said:
>>but as long as Eleanor is coming to me of her own accord, and not running from me, that’s one metric I use to tell me that I’m getting the balance right at some level and is the one that matters the most.<<
Boy, I hear that!
Sometimes parenting feels like a dance, perhaps, in which I’m always trying to figure out the proper proportions of hanging on, lifting up, and letting go.
I liked that analogy, very poetic and true. You should frame it!!
parenting feels like a dance
Very true. Depending on circumstance, a tango or tap dancing!
Hope you trip the light fantastic today
.
I need to chime in here to clarify for myself anyway, the definition of overparenting. I think that overparenting means doing for your child what your child can do for him or herself. It means doing things because of your anxiety and your goals for your child which may not really be in the best interest of your child. In other words, it’s not a one-size fits all phenomenon. If you have a child with autism or an anxiety disorder, the way you parent is going to have to be different to meet your child where he or she is. I know it is a fine line, but I fear that parents are being put on the defensive at times when they are legitimately responding to their children’s needs. I write about these subjects in my books. The most recent, Freeing Your Child from Negative Thinking helps parents to promote resilience and teach children how to work through their own thoughts and feelings about disappointments and persevere to their goals. If you’d like to check out an excerpt, please go to http://www.freeingyourchild.com.
Thanks for this important post.
All best,
Tamar Chansky
Tamar, the link doesn’t work. Could you check it?
Tamar, the link on your name works!