Around the house.
This is a photo shoot from our "pumpkin harvest". Pretty sparse pumpkins, pretty cute kids.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Camera Purge
Visit from Grandma and Uncle Blake. These kids are going to be so happy when we move closer to family!
Around the house.
This is a photo shoot from our "pumpkin harvest". Pretty sparse pumpkins, pretty cute kids.
Around the house.
This is a photo shoot from our "pumpkin harvest". Pretty sparse pumpkins, pretty cute kids.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Wednesday at 9am
We're going to be farm owners! The settlement kept getting pushed back, but it's officially happening on Wednesday! Sometimes I still can't believe we're doing this! I was making dinner tonight and got a call from a number I didn't recognize. Turns out it was our new neighbors calling to say hello. We haven't even settled yet, and we've got neighbors calling! He was just letting us know that he is willing to help with anything he can. He even said he would get his tractor out and start cutting our grass. I offered to pay him, and he refused anything in return. He said that it was his father who built that house back in 1930, and he grew up there as a boy. They had cows, goats, the whole 9 yards. He's very excited to hear that we will be farming the land also. I'm still just amazed that he called. It took us over a year to meet one of our neighbors in the house we're in now. I can't wait to get out of the city!
Farm living is the life for me.
Farm living is the life for me.
When a Parent's 'I Love You' Means 'Do as I Say'
NY Times Link
By ALFIE KOHN
Published: September 14, 2009
More than 50 years ago, the psychologist Carl Rogers suggested that simply loving our children wasn’t enough. We have to love them unconditionally, he said — for who they are, not for what they do.
As a father, I know this is a tall order, but it becomes even more challenging now that so much of the advice we are given amounts to exactly the opposite. In effect, we’re given tips in conditional parenting, which comes in two flavors: turn up the affection when they’re good, withhold affection when they’re not.
Thus, the talk show host Phil McGraw tells us in his book “Family First” (Free Press, 2004) that what children need or enjoy should be offered contingently, turned into rewards to be doled out or withheld so they “behave according to your wishes.” And “one of the most powerful currencies for a child,” he adds, “is the parents’ acceptance and approval.”
Likewise, Jo Frost of “Supernanny,” in her book of the same name (Hyperion, 2005), says, “The best rewards are attention, praise and love,” and these should be held back “when the child behaves badly until she says she is sorry,” at which point the love is turned back on.
Conditional parenting isn’t limited to old-school authoritarians. Some people who wouldn’t dream of spanking choose instead to discipline their young children by forcibly isolating them, a tactic we prefer to call “time out.” Conversely, “positive reinforcement” teaches children that they are loved, and lovable, only when they do whatever we decide is a “good job.”
This raises the intriguing possibility that the problem with praise isn’t that it is done the wrong way — or handed out too easily, as social conservatives insist. Rather, it might be just another method of control, analogous to punishment. The primary message of all types of conditional parenting is that children must earn a parent’s love. A steady diet of that, Rogers warned, and children might eventually need a therapist to provide the unconditional acceptance they didn’t get when it counted.
But was Rogers right? Before we toss out mainstream discipline, it would be nice to have some evidence. And now we do.
In 2004, two Israeli researchers, Avi Assor and Guy Roth, joined Edward L. Deci, a leading American expert on the psychology of motivation, in asking more than 100 college students whether the love they had received from their parents had seemed to depend on whether they had succeeded in school, practiced hard for sports, been considerate toward others or suppressed emotions like anger and fear.
It turned out that children who received conditional approval were indeed somewhat more likely to act as the parent wanted. But compliance came at a steep price. First, these children tended to resent and dislike their parents. Second, they were apt to say that the way they acted was often due more to a “strong internal pressure” than to “a real sense of choice.” Moreover, their happiness after succeeding at something was usually short-lived, and they often felt guilty or ashamed.
In a companion study, Dr. Assor and his colleagues interviewed mothers of grown children. With this generation, too, conditional parenting proved damaging. Those mothers who, as children, sensed that they were loved only when they lived up to their parents’ expectations now felt less worthy as adults. Yet despite the negative effects, these mothers were more likely to use conditional affection with their own children.
This July, the same researchers, now joined by two of Dr. Deci’s colleagues at the University of Rochester, published two replications and extensions of the 2004 study. This time the subjects were ninth graders, and this time giving more approval when children did what parents wanted was carefully distinguished from giving less when they did not.
The studies found that both positive and negative conditional parenting were harmful, but in slightly different ways. The positive kind sometimes succeeded in getting children to work harder on academic tasks, but at the cost of unhealthy feelings of “internal compulsion.” Negative conditional parenting didn’t even work in the short run; it just increased the teenagers’ negative feelings about their parents.
What these and other studies tell us, if we’re able to hear the news, is that praising children for doing something right isn’t a meaningful alternative to pulling back or punishing when they do something wrong. Both are examples of conditional parenting, and both are counterproductive.
The child psychologist Bruno Bettelheim, who readily acknowledged that the version of negative conditional parenting known as time-out can cause “deep feelings of anxiety,” nevertheless endorsed it for that very reason. “When our words are not enough,” he said, “the threat of the withdrawal of our love and affection is the only sound method to impress on him that he had better conform to our request.”
But the data suggest that love withdrawal isn’t particularly effective at getting compliance, much less at promoting moral development. Even if we did succeed in making children obey us, though — say, by using positive reinforcement — is obedience worth the possible long-term psychological harm? Should parental love be used as a tool for controlling children?
Deeper issues also underlie a different sort of criticism. Albert Bandura, the father of the branch of psychology known as social learning theory, declared that unconditional love “would make children directionless and quite unlovable” — an assertion entirely unsupported by empirical studies. The idea that children accepted for who they are would lack direction or appeal is most informative for what it tells us about the dark view of human nature held by those who issue such warnings.
In practice, according to an impressive collection of data by Dr. Deci and others, unconditional acceptance by parents as well as teachers should be accompanied by “autonomy support”: explaining reasons for requests, maximizing opportunities for the child to participate in making decisions, being encouraging without manipulating, and actively imagining how things look from the child’s point of view.
The last of these features is important with respect to unconditional parenting itself. Most of us would protest that of course we love our children without any strings attached. But what counts is how things look from the perspective of the children — whether they feel just as loved when they mess up or fall short.
Rogers didn’t say so, but I’ll bet he would have been glad to see less demand for skillful therapists if that meant more people were growing into adulthood having already felt unconditionally accepted.
Alfie Kohn is the author of 11 books about human behavior and education, including “Unconditional Parenting” and “Punished by Rewards.”
By ALFIE KOHN
Published: September 14, 2009
More than 50 years ago, the psychologist Carl Rogers suggested that simply loving our children wasn’t enough. We have to love them unconditionally, he said — for who they are, not for what they do.
As a father, I know this is a tall order, but it becomes even more challenging now that so much of the advice we are given amounts to exactly the opposite. In effect, we’re given tips in conditional parenting, which comes in two flavors: turn up the affection when they’re good, withhold affection when they’re not.
Thus, the talk show host Phil McGraw tells us in his book “Family First” (Free Press, 2004) that what children need or enjoy should be offered contingently, turned into rewards to be doled out or withheld so they “behave according to your wishes.” And “one of the most powerful currencies for a child,” he adds, “is the parents’ acceptance and approval.”
Likewise, Jo Frost of “Supernanny,” in her book of the same name (Hyperion, 2005), says, “The best rewards are attention, praise and love,” and these should be held back “when the child behaves badly until she says she is sorry,” at which point the love is turned back on.
Conditional parenting isn’t limited to old-school authoritarians. Some people who wouldn’t dream of spanking choose instead to discipline their young children by forcibly isolating them, a tactic we prefer to call “time out.” Conversely, “positive reinforcement” teaches children that they are loved, and lovable, only when they do whatever we decide is a “good job.”
This raises the intriguing possibility that the problem with praise isn’t that it is done the wrong way — or handed out too easily, as social conservatives insist. Rather, it might be just another method of control, analogous to punishment. The primary message of all types of conditional parenting is that children must earn a parent’s love. A steady diet of that, Rogers warned, and children might eventually need a therapist to provide the unconditional acceptance they didn’t get when it counted.
But was Rogers right? Before we toss out mainstream discipline, it would be nice to have some evidence. And now we do.
In 2004, two Israeli researchers, Avi Assor and Guy Roth, joined Edward L. Deci, a leading American expert on the psychology of motivation, in asking more than 100 college students whether the love they had received from their parents had seemed to depend on whether they had succeeded in school, practiced hard for sports, been considerate toward others or suppressed emotions like anger and fear.
It turned out that children who received conditional approval were indeed somewhat more likely to act as the parent wanted. But compliance came at a steep price. First, these children tended to resent and dislike their parents. Second, they were apt to say that the way they acted was often due more to a “strong internal pressure” than to “a real sense of choice.” Moreover, their happiness after succeeding at something was usually short-lived, and they often felt guilty or ashamed.
In a companion study, Dr. Assor and his colleagues interviewed mothers of grown children. With this generation, too, conditional parenting proved damaging. Those mothers who, as children, sensed that they were loved only when they lived up to their parents’ expectations now felt less worthy as adults. Yet despite the negative effects, these mothers were more likely to use conditional affection with their own children.
This July, the same researchers, now joined by two of Dr. Deci’s colleagues at the University of Rochester, published two replications and extensions of the 2004 study. This time the subjects were ninth graders, and this time giving more approval when children did what parents wanted was carefully distinguished from giving less when they did not.
The studies found that both positive and negative conditional parenting were harmful, but in slightly different ways. The positive kind sometimes succeeded in getting children to work harder on academic tasks, but at the cost of unhealthy feelings of “internal compulsion.” Negative conditional parenting didn’t even work in the short run; it just increased the teenagers’ negative feelings about their parents.
What these and other studies tell us, if we’re able to hear the news, is that praising children for doing something right isn’t a meaningful alternative to pulling back or punishing when they do something wrong. Both are examples of conditional parenting, and both are counterproductive.
The child psychologist Bruno Bettelheim, who readily acknowledged that the version of negative conditional parenting known as time-out can cause “deep feelings of anxiety,” nevertheless endorsed it for that very reason. “When our words are not enough,” he said, “the threat of the withdrawal of our love and affection is the only sound method to impress on him that he had better conform to our request.”
But the data suggest that love withdrawal isn’t particularly effective at getting compliance, much less at promoting moral development. Even if we did succeed in making children obey us, though — say, by using positive reinforcement — is obedience worth the possible long-term psychological harm? Should parental love be used as a tool for controlling children?
Deeper issues also underlie a different sort of criticism. Albert Bandura, the father of the branch of psychology known as social learning theory, declared that unconditional love “would make children directionless and quite unlovable” — an assertion entirely unsupported by empirical studies. The idea that children accepted for who they are would lack direction or appeal is most informative for what it tells us about the dark view of human nature held by those who issue such warnings.
In practice, according to an impressive collection of data by Dr. Deci and others, unconditional acceptance by parents as well as teachers should be accompanied by “autonomy support”: explaining reasons for requests, maximizing opportunities for the child to participate in making decisions, being encouraging without manipulating, and actively imagining how things look from the child’s point of view.
The last of these features is important with respect to unconditional parenting itself. Most of us would protest that of course we love our children without any strings attached. But what counts is how things look from the perspective of the children — whether they feel just as loved when they mess up or fall short.
Rogers didn’t say so, but I’ll bet he would have been glad to see less demand for skillful therapists if that meant more people were growing into adulthood having already felt unconditionally accepted.
Alfie Kohn is the author of 11 books about human behavior and education, including “Unconditional Parenting” and “Punished by Rewards.”
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Are you sitting down?
Because you're about to be blown away. So, the kids and I went to Target this morning to pick up a few things. Seth was NOT having much fun. He was so ready to leave, but if I made the effort to get there I wanted to get everything I needed. It was getting bad. Seth was running away from me and hiding, screaming, etc. Pretty embarrassing stuff. Ella started feeding off of it and I finally decided it was time to get out of there. I squatted down on the floor and whispered to the kids that we were going to go check out and go home. I asked them to be patient for just a couple more minutes while we bought our things. I had a couple of the "looks" while I was squatted there trying to keep Seth from screaming and throwing himself on the floor. I'm pretty use to the "look" though, so I didn't worry too much. Yeah yeah, my kid's a brat, whatever. At least I know he's not really a brat, there's something wrong. So, I go to the only open checkout lane and start putting my things up on the lane. I'm holding Ella in one hand and she's fussy. Seth was running around in the front of the store by the doors - no screaming, just running in circles. All of a sudden I hear the woman in front of me say, "If she can't keep those kids under control, she shouldn't be allowed to bring them in public and ruin it for the rest of us". Here is how the rest of it went...
Me: Excuse me, are you talking about me?
Mean Lady: Yes, I'm talking about you and your bratty kids. If you can't teach your kids how to behave in public, then none of you should come out.
Me: My son has autism.
Mean Lady: I don't care if your son has autism. My son was a paraplegic. I have a nephew who has autism and is in community college now. I've seen how autistic kids can be if they have a good mom who raises them properly.
Me: (At this point I'm in utter shock and disbelief that this is actually happening, so I really didn't know what to say) Excuse me, but my son is sick. He has special needs. He doesn't understand. He's AUTISTIC!
Mean Lady: Well then you shouldn't bring him in public.
Me: What am I suppose to do? When am I suppose to do my shopping?
Mean Lady: You do your shopping when he is being watched by a professional.
Me: Oh, and are you going to help me pay for that?
At this point I turn around and start sobbing - like literally sobbing in the Target checkout lane. Ella and Seth both come over and start saying "mommy sad, mommy sad, mommy sad!" She's still yammering on, but I just tuned it all out. I COULD NOT believe what I was hearing. This old woman YELLING at me because my son is AUTISTIC! Not what I needed to hear right now. Way to kick me when I'm down lady. It also kind of hurt my feelings that nobody who saw what was going on stuck up for me. The checkout lady, the guy behind me in line, etc. Everybody just stood there like I wasn't sobbing my eyes out and some old lady wasn't yelling at me telling me I am a bad mother. Anybody who knows me really well, knows that the timing on this situation is just horrible. I've got enough on my plate right now.
I think that now is the appropriate time to post this email that my bff, Julie, sent me a couple weeks ago.
How an Autistic Child Might Think......
> Nobody can see my disability. I look just
> like
> every other kid-attractive, walking, playing, and making
> sounds. They can't see how my
> neurons are scrambled and miswired in my brain. They
> can't see all the misconnections, overfiring, and
> misfires between the
> parts of my left and right brain, my frontal cortex,
> and the various other parts of my inner brain. Nobody
> can see that the neural messages disconnect before they
> reach the parts of my body that are supposed to perform the
> motor tasks. I have autism.
>
>
>
> Nobody can see that
> my body is sick. No one can
> see that my stomach is in knots from my digestive
> system not working. No one can
> see that my body and mind are starving because
> my cells don't make the right
> enzymes to digest food. No one can see that I suffer from
> low blood sugar
> because I can't properly metabolize
> nourishment.
>
>
> No one can see that
> my body is attacking its own
> nerve cells from auto-immune dysfunction. No
> one can see that mercury, lead, and
> arsenic cannot be excreted from my body, so it keeps
> building up in my brain. No
> one understands that my body cannot tolerate normal
> enjoyments for children,
> like bright, vivid colors, and loud noises. I desperately
> want to be a kid and
> enjoy these things, but my body just won't let me.
> Those sensory stimulii are interpreted and misinterpreted by
> my brain as offensive and dangerous assaults. My
> hypersensitivities are constantly making me shrink away from
> activities that other kids revel in and look forward
> to.
>
>
>
> But everyone can see
> how inappropriate my
> behavior can be when I am out in public. Everyone can see
> how immature I can be
> compared to other kids my age. Everyone sees the 2-year old
> tantrums when things
> have become too overwhelming for me. Everyone sees my
> frustration from trying to
> cope when I feel like I have been on a strobe-lit
> rollercoaster for hours.
>
>
> Everyone sees my
> screaming and fighting.
> Everyone just assumes I'm being bad, not that my body
> hurts, my eyes are in pain
> from colors, my ears ring with loud noises not heard by
> others, my skin has goosebumps, my mind is stressed, and I
> am dizzy, tired, and sick.
>
>
> Everyone sees my
> tantrums when I don't get my
> way. No one sees that I can't explain my fear when I
> think I'm not being
> understood. Everyone may see my screams when my mom takes
> something away from
> me. No one can see that having something of comfort can
> keep my fears under
> control for me, and taking it away makes my nerves explodes
> in
> anxiety.
>
>
> No one understands
> how hard I have to work to
> keep my behaviors from reacting to the chemical imbalances
> in my body that makes
> me feel horrible. No one can see that, no matter how hard I
> try, sometimes I
> cannot control it. No one can see the shame I feel after
> I've had a meltdown
> from my body's problems.
>
>
> What they don't
> see is I am a person. I have
> feelings and want to be loved and accepted like everyone
> else. What they don't
> see is that, when they look at me like I need a good
> spanking; I understand that
> I'm not capable of controlling my body. What they don't see is
> that I scream because I
> don't know how to say "HELP ME" What they
> don't see is that I hear every ugly
> word they say, but for the life of me, I can't make my
> mouth say what I'm
> feeling. But they don't see that as a disability.. They
> say I am unmanageable.
> They say I am a problem.
>
>
> But I am not a
> problem. I HAVE AUTISM. My mom
> has taken me to more doctors and specialist than you can
> ever imagine. She's
> read more books and done more research on my disease than
> parents would ever
> want. She has tried special diets, supplements, drugs, and
> various metabolic, metaphysical, and traditional
> therapies. She has PRAYED for GUIDANCE and asked for
> discernment on how to help
> my body. And behaviors, OH YES, has she tried everything to
> help shape my
> behavior to meet accepted norms.
>
>
> Stop telling her all
> I need is a spanking, or for her to do this, or to do
> that.... If
> a simple spanking, or a simple this or that would stop all
> of this, my mom would gladly exchange my disability for a
> spanking, or whatever other simple fix you could offer. She
> knows better than all of you what I need to help me, and
> what we
> both need is your understanding, not
> ignorance.
>
>
> I just want to be
> accepted and understood. Not
> blamed and ashamed, I want to be appreciated for my gifts.
> I do have some if you
> look more closely. I want to be cared for as a person. I
> want you to care, even
> when I act like I don't.
>
>
> I want to be
> respected, just like you do. I want
> you to respect my mom and dad for all the hard work they
> have done to help me
> try to lead a normal a life as possible. I want you to
> respect my family and all
> the struggles we have to endure because of our love for
> each other.
>
>
> I want to be LOVED
> like any other child. And
> need you to role model respectful behavior for me so I can
> be respectful too. I
> want you to love me just like JESUS
> would.
>
Me: Excuse me, are you talking about me?
Mean Lady: Yes, I'm talking about you and your bratty kids. If you can't teach your kids how to behave in public, then none of you should come out.
Me: My son has autism.
Mean Lady: I don't care if your son has autism. My son was a paraplegic. I have a nephew who has autism and is in community college now. I've seen how autistic kids can be if they have a good mom who raises them properly.
Me: (At this point I'm in utter shock and disbelief that this is actually happening, so I really didn't know what to say) Excuse me, but my son is sick. He has special needs. He doesn't understand. He's AUTISTIC!
Mean Lady: Well then you shouldn't bring him in public.
Me: What am I suppose to do? When am I suppose to do my shopping?
Mean Lady: You do your shopping when he is being watched by a professional.
Me: Oh, and are you going to help me pay for that?
At this point I turn around and start sobbing - like literally sobbing in the Target checkout lane. Ella and Seth both come over and start saying "mommy sad, mommy sad, mommy sad!" She's still yammering on, but I just tuned it all out. I COULD NOT believe what I was hearing. This old woman YELLING at me because my son is AUTISTIC! Not what I needed to hear right now. Way to kick me when I'm down lady. It also kind of hurt my feelings that nobody who saw what was going on stuck up for me. The checkout lady, the guy behind me in line, etc. Everybody just stood there like I wasn't sobbing my eyes out and some old lady wasn't yelling at me telling me I am a bad mother. Anybody who knows me really well, knows that the timing on this situation is just horrible. I've got enough on my plate right now.
I think that now is the appropriate time to post this email that my bff, Julie, sent me a couple weeks ago.
How an Autistic Child Might Think......
> Nobody can see my disability. I look just
> like
> every other kid-attractive, walking, playing, and making
> sounds. They can't see how my
> neurons are scrambled and miswired in my brain. They
> can't see all the misconnections, overfiring, and
> misfires between the
> parts of my left and right brain, my frontal cortex,
> and the various other parts of my inner brain. Nobody
> can see that the neural messages disconnect before they
> reach the parts of my body that are supposed to perform the
> motor tasks. I have autism.
>
>
>
> Nobody can see that
> my body is sick. No one can
> see that my stomach is in knots from my digestive
> system not working. No one can
> see that my body and mind are starving because
> my cells don't make the right
> enzymes to digest food. No one can see that I suffer from
> low blood sugar
> because I can't properly metabolize
> nourishment.
>
>
> No one can see that
> my body is attacking its own
> nerve cells from auto-immune dysfunction. No
> one can see that mercury, lead, and
> arsenic cannot be excreted from my body, so it keeps
> building up in my brain. No
> one understands that my body cannot tolerate normal
> enjoyments for children,
> like bright, vivid colors, and loud noises. I desperately
> want to be a kid and
> enjoy these things, but my body just won't let me.
> Those sensory stimulii are interpreted and misinterpreted by
> my brain as offensive and dangerous assaults. My
> hypersensitivities are constantly making me shrink away from
> activities that other kids revel in and look forward
> to.
>
>
>
> But everyone can see
> how inappropriate my
> behavior can be when I am out in public. Everyone can see
> how immature I can be
> compared to other kids my age. Everyone sees the 2-year old
> tantrums when things
> have become too overwhelming for me. Everyone sees my
> frustration from trying to
> cope when I feel like I have been on a strobe-lit
> rollercoaster for hours.
>
>
> Everyone sees my
> screaming and fighting.
> Everyone just assumes I'm being bad, not that my body
> hurts, my eyes are in pain
> from colors, my ears ring with loud noises not heard by
> others, my skin has goosebumps, my mind is stressed, and I
> am dizzy, tired, and sick.
>
>
> Everyone sees my
> tantrums when I don't get my
> way. No one sees that I can't explain my fear when I
> think I'm not being
> understood. Everyone may see my screams when my mom takes
> something away from
> me. No one can see that having something of comfort can
> keep my fears under
> control for me, and taking it away makes my nerves explodes
> in
> anxiety.
>
>
> No one understands
> how hard I have to work to
> keep my behaviors from reacting to the chemical imbalances
> in my body that makes
> me feel horrible. No one can see that, no matter how hard I
> try, sometimes I
> cannot control it. No one can see the shame I feel after
> I've had a meltdown
> from my body's problems.
>
>
> What they don't
> see is I am a person. I have
> feelings and want to be loved and accepted like everyone
> else. What they don't
> see is that, when they look at me like I need a good
> spanking; I understand that
> I'm not capable of controlling my body. What they don't see is
> that I scream because I
> don't know how to say "HELP ME" What they
> don't see is that I hear every ugly
> word they say, but for the life of me, I can't make my
> mouth say what I'm
> feeling. But they don't see that as a disability.. They
> say I am unmanageable.
> They say I am a problem.
>
>
> But I am not a
> problem. I HAVE AUTISM. My mom
> has taken me to more doctors and specialist than you can
> ever imagine. She's
> read more books and done more research on my disease than
> parents would ever
> want. She has tried special diets, supplements, drugs, and
> various metabolic, metaphysical, and traditional
> therapies. She has PRAYED for GUIDANCE and asked for
> discernment on how to help
> my body. And behaviors, OH YES, has she tried everything to
> help shape my
> behavior to meet accepted norms.
>
>
> Stop telling her all
> I need is a spanking, or for her to do this, or to do
> that.... If
> a simple spanking, or a simple this or that would stop all
> of this, my mom would gladly exchange my disability for a
> spanking, or whatever other simple fix you could offer. She
> knows better than all of you what I need to help me, and
> what we
> both need is your understanding, not
> ignorance.
>
>
> I just want to be
> accepted and understood. Not
> blamed and ashamed, I want to be appreciated for my gifts.
> I do have some if you
> look more closely. I want to be cared for as a person. I
> want you to care, even
> when I act like I don't.
>
>
> I want to be
> respected, just like you do. I want
> you to respect my mom and dad for all the hard work they
> have done to help me
> try to lead a normal a life as possible. I want you to
> respect my family and all
> the struggles we have to endure because of our love for
> each other.
>
>
> I want to be LOVED
> like any other child. And
> need you to role model respectful behavior for me so I can
> be respectful too. I
> want you to love me just like JESUS
> would.
>
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