Sunday, May 30, 2004

the showmedamoney code

Just finished The DaVinci code and honestly am wondering what all the hype was about.

It seems to me that more and more books are being written as screenplays. See Matthew Reilly's works that simply ooze Sylvester Stallone or good old Arny.

It's easy to see how this would translate into a blockbuster without any tweaking. Unfortunately although I can't blame authors when there is so much money to be had (ala Ms Rowling), I think some of the art of storywriting has been lost along the way. It's predictable in places and the ending is definitely flat.

Being what I like to term as a bit of a God Botherer, I was ready for a challenge but there is none - factually there are as many holes in this book's premise as an old poncho and they have been addressed elsewhere. There's nothing in this to shake an apple tree, never mind one's faith (no pun intended to those who have already read it).

However, it was an interesting read by the fire on a cold winter's day so I'm not complaining.

So, now that I am nearly finished a borrowed book - Almost French - I am feeling that familiar wandering booklust again. I must have a book, or 2 or 3, in hand or I get restless. At which point I shuffle the books in my shelf, which have all been read over and over, and pull out an old faithful until I can get me to a library (or that second hand bookshop where I can get good books but the little man behind the counter is oddly odd and gives me the shivers).

I have Campbell's Kingdom as a stop gap, but am nearly finished that as well. Oh my!

Saturday, May 29, 2004

badly drawn boy

Something I've discovered in all this is that the boy anticipates.

This is why it's now easy to understand more about the way he is behaving.

When he goes off his tree, he really goes WAY off. He becomes evil child with shades of Linda Blair. Scary. And most of the time there seems to be no reason, or whatever has happened is so trivial that we are left with our gobs hanging open at the aftermath.

'What is wrong with that boy!'

How scary? Well, there's the evil eye he gives you for a start. Then the hateful things he says. If you're lucky, there's a bit of wall-bashing (or head bashing if he's really in the vibe), toy-throwing, shelf-clearing and fingers stuffed into ears. If attempting to be extra annoying he hums loudly and rolls under his quilt, all the way under the bed.

Oh what jolly fun.

Yet, now I can clearly see that whatever triggers an episode, is not the real cause of the behaviour. He's anticipating being treated badly. He's drawing a picture in his mind of events that he truly believes are about to happen.

So, before you can assure him or explain the situation, or give him choices, his mind has already accepted bad stuff and he is living through it because of past experiences that he couldn't handle.

This is severe rejection. This is very psychological, and actually very perceptive of him when you think about it. It's his method of self-protection when he feels he is losing control, whether that is real or perceived.

What's to be done? This is all about unraveling a systematically learned behaviour and response system that, for him, works in some way that shields him from the worst he thinks can happen. It's going to be hard to pry that away from him, like Linus's blanket in Charlie Brown. Remember when the blanket was due for a wash and Linus shook with withdrawal symptoms?

What we have to do is to replace this blanket with another one that is more socially acceptable and serves him better for the future. We have to take away the insecurity and replace it with security. He needs to get to a point where he can be scolded or blamed for something and his inner calm and feelings of being wanted are not compromised in any way.

At the moment, any small pebble thrown into his pond of self-worth causes a tidal wave instead of a minor ripple. He goes into shutdown mode instantly and automatically.

Although all this came to me a few days ago, it really sank in last night when I was talking to him about how he acts when he's in the 'blackhole', as well call it to help him to talk about all this more easily - we're defining the indefinable for him.

I described one of his typical illogicisms:

"Please get dressed"

"No"

(after some time when one realises one is getting no where)

"If you don't get dressed, we won't be able to take you to XXX on Saturday. You know how this works"

"Awwww"

"Do you want to go to XXX?"

"Yes"

"Then get dressed"

"No"

"Then no XX..."

"Aww, that's not fair"

"Then get dressed"

"No"

When I described this to him last night, he just looked at me and said, "But that's silly, it makes no sense."

"Exactly." I said.

It was another light bulb over my head incident where I suddenly realised that he is completely detached from logic when in the blackhole. In a sense he is not responsible for his actions. This makes it more clear that my strategies for dealing with him are correct - the walkaway is the right thing to do in most cases.

It's horse-whispering for kids. I'll explain it later.

The boy and I are going out...

Thursday, May 27, 2004

prodigal son

Boy was listening to a kid's story on CD which happened to be the parable of The Prodigal Son.

Boy said, "I love this story, it's the best one in the Bible."

"Why? Why do you like it so much?"

"I dunno. I just do."

"Do you think it relates to you? Reminds you of you?"

"Nup. Well... yes"

"Why?"

"Because I ran away too."

"Why did you run away?"

"I dunno... (much quieter) because Mummy yelled at me."

"That's no good. What else?"

"Because Mummy hit me. And Dad hit me... And sometimes I went to bed with no dinner... And went to school with no breakfast..."

His eyes glistened in the weak light of the bedside lamp.

"Well, you know, that's terrible. Sometimes people do things because that's all they know how to do. They just don't know any better. This doesn't mean Mummy and Daddy don't love you, because they do. They just get so frustrated at not being able to deal with you that they yell at you. It's not all your fault"

He nods.

"You know, this is part of why you are here with us - to help you deal with things and help Mum and Dad to deal with things. It's not easy to change but we can, we can all change. We just have to try. It's not like magic where it happens instantly, it takes time."

Boy nods again.

"We love you and we're here to help, okay?"

Okay.

This conversation confirms something I promised myself after one outburst a few weeks ago - I determined never to use a basic human requirement such as food as a bargaining point or a punishment. Extras like icecream, sweets and dessert sure, as they are 'special' and shouldn't be taken for granted. But never dinner, supper or breakfast.

This is part of his ingrained insecurity - he feels sure that misbehaviour will result in something foundational, like food, will be taken away, and in some reverse psychological way, he accepts it before it happens and then anticipates it and so feeds his own anger and sense of non-importance.

The reality is, in this case the parents are prodigal - rashly wasting their son's life...

It won't happen again.

Tuesday, May 25, 2004

bedtime for boy

Small boys are a dangerous breed and must be handled with care. There comes a time, however, when battle lines must be drawn, usually at bedtime...

1. The contest will always begin with your opponent saying NO. It doesn't matter what they are saying NO to, in fact, it will probably be to something quite inconsequential

2. There is no limit to the number of times the word NO may be used. In fact, 'countless' comes to mind

3. Your opponent will believe in the mystical powers of Doona. They mistakenly believe that rolling up inside said doona means 'out of sight, out of mind' and grants them the power of invisibility (if you are not Australian, a Doona is a quilt)

4. Do not be fooled into thinking your opponent only has 2 arms. In the heat of battle, they suddenly grow an extra 3 or 4

5. Feet also count as arms

6. Beware of beds with many bars at either end - these will be drawn into the conflict and used with points (4) and (5) - extracting small hands from one bar only causes them to latch onto other bars in the near vicinity, making it impossible to place the small child in the correct sleeping position

7. Lest you should think you have won the war and leave the room, be prepared for subsequent wall bashing and henceforth entering into the fray once more

8. The small child will refuse to lie down and will attempt to remain in the upright position for the remainder of the evening. Sitting on them may produce favourable results

9. Do not be fooled into offering hugs and cuddles. This merely encourages your opponent to step up his assault with the NO word

10. At battle's end, your worthy opponent will immediately fall into a deep sleep. You, on the otherhand, will be up for hours and will suddenly develop a twitch...

Monday, May 24, 2004

a boy's story

So, what is the boy's story?

He's smart. Bouncing with energy. Has love to give. Good looking. An enquiring mind.

He's also full of fear and anticipates the worst. Convinced he is stupid and angry. Disrepectful of your efforts on his behalf. Selfish. Hyper at times.

What's his problem?

His 'real' dad can't be bothered to keep in touch and was never around from day one. I've heard the boy was left many times waiting by the window, refusing to go to bed in the vain hope that dad would turn up as he had promised. But no phone call to say he wasn't coming. How cruel. Not a real dad at all.

His mum and stepdad have not officially adopted the boy as biological dad wasn't prepared to fully let him go, like some possession to be bargained with. And so his name is different to everyone else's. He's proud of his name but at the same time it seems to be a chip on his shoulder.

His mum seems to resent him, maybe because he changed her life... but didn't she do that and not the boy? I've forgotten when I last saw her give him any real affection, or treat him as an intelligent individual. She speaks to him as though he was an annoyance. Obviously he's been a handful in the past, but equally obviously he has not been related to like a human being, his intelligence has gone unrecognised.

He's given 'chores' that to him are demeaning. Things you wouldn't normally ask a child to do. He gets no affection for performing these tasks and so they have become a weight on his shoulder. I avoid the chore word. I ask for his help instead.

She is lazy and doesn't seem to see the dirt on every surface. A child should have a clean and comfortable home, something to aspire to and learn to respect the world around him. He has none of this and respects very little as a consequence. True that her mother died when she was 16. True that her father is off the rails and she hasn't seen him in a while, and so she bad mouths him in front of the boy. She doesn't realise that he also has lost these people.

His stepdad has been dragged down by her slothfulness so that the two of them ooze depression and unhappiness like a fog that blocks out the light until you feel it creeping up on you. When they leave, you sigh in relief as the oppression lifts in their wake. The boy is living in this atmosphere and is clearly infested with the same sickness.

One day he couldn't cope with the feelings inside and had what can only be described as a breakdown. Ran away from 'home'. Can't say I blame him.

So, he's with us.

And what do we see? A small boy who wants genuine affection, security, to live without fear, to be certain of his boundaries. Who is already changing and responding to the calmness now around him.

Is there hope? Of course. I'll tell you why next time...

Friday, May 21, 2004

exit

Phew. How relieved do I feel today!

The boy has come back from the land of big bad things and is in fine form - almost angelic (well, he is a boy and let's not go too far...)

I was almost scared to go home yesterday in trepidation as to what sort of mood he would be in. But a fascinating thing happened.

During yesterday's episode we laid down the usual 'threats', if you like, regarding what would be taken away if things didn't stop spiralling down that dangerous path. He was putting in jeopardy a planned outing that evening; next to go was the PS2, then computer, then TV... It's a matter of sticking to your game plan and not wavering, even in the heat of battle. And remaining as neutral as possible "It's your choice. You are deciding that you don't want the outing, don't want PS2 etc."

Tough love to use the vernacular.

In this instance, nothing would make a difference. He was simply lost in the pit.

Now, we had used 'black hole' as an analogy for him to comprehend that we understood his difficulties in stopping himself from slipping away when he was angry, and that anger came out of deep-seated fear, insecurity, longing for acceptance and love. "Reach out when you start to fall", we said, "we're here to help you. Let us help you get out."

Yesterday, he fell too fast and couldn't do it.

Last night, even though he was aware of the consequences (how he hates that word) of his actions, he bucked about not being able to watch TV - the other stuff he could deal with. He stomped off to his room and gave us the evil eye and I drooped with weariness - "not again..."

But back he came, wavering on the edge - I could see - but he teetered to the right side and accepted his lot, more or less happily looking for other things to while away the evening.

Later, I said "Can I ask you a question? When you were angry and upset earlier, what made you stop?"

He looked up and answered, "I could see the exit sign. I saw the way out"

noticed: Design for the Usability Guy

Thursday, May 20, 2004

rattled

I feel rattled this morning.

The boy had another hissyfit and he just wouldn't let go of his anger. When he's like this he is totally incommunicado - you can't reason with him as he will counter everything you say, even though his thoughts are clearly illogical. He hums to himself, puts his hands over his ears, wraps himself in his quilt and faces the wall.

It's distressing to see him so distressed and yet you know you just have to walk away. I try to give him some control by setting out the choices he can make and then making it clear that the decision is his.

It's a matter of taking away until he sees how bleak he's made his lot. Sometimes it works easily, sometimes he's just too far down that black hole and he can't reach up to save himself.

This morning was unsettling because there was no visible reason for his behaviour. He was rude and obnoxious, throwing things around his room and had to be carried to the car to be taken to school.

He completely lacks the skills to cope and is stuck with the social abilities of an unruly 6 year old, instead of being 10 and robust.

And yet yesterday he came home with a 'Student of the Week' Award and I was proud of him.

Wednesday, May 19, 2004

about a boy

I'm fostering the boy at the moment. I say 'I' as I feel most of the responsibility for decision making seems to be on my shoulders. It's a heavy load and uphill all the way, with small enlightenments.

How can a ten year old be so emotionally screwed up? How has he had the time to build such walls of defence? This boy has no sense of self-worth and is so insecure:

"I'm stupid"
"I'm an angry person"
"It's the way I am and I can't change"
"You're not my real family"

I could slap his stepdad. It's not all his fault, I know, but he should have known better. I mean, he was brought up in a good, morally sound family and yet he's so different to them - selfish, can't see past his own nose unless you point it out to him.

I can't ever remember him showing real love and affection to the boy.

It's a crime.