Parenting: A Pandora's Box

Today as I try to escape my restlessness and growing anticipation of waiting for baby, I decided to read back through some old journal and blog entries. I think this is one of my favourites and really resonates with what is still to come as baby number 2 arrives on the scene.

I have to report that while not much has changed with regard to my son's new clothing phobia, we have found some pretty creative ways to work through it!

I am now emerging from what feels like the seventh circle of parenting hell - the extended tantrum. My son generally has quite a sunny disposition. We have been blessed with a creative, loving, engaging child with a magical imagination - and a huge stubborn streak. While this capacity to cling to his convictions may serve him well through the upcoming years of peer pressure, a few short days away from his 5th birthday, his one track mind has called up all kinds of questions for me about my capacity as a mother.

What began as a quirky trait has now morphed into an incredibly limiting habit. He hates new clothes! (This is how I know that he did not get this particular stubborn streak from ME! At least that is the trump card in the case I am making to my husband about whose DNA fostered this strange obession!)

Okay, I understand that this is a world where kids don't get much opportunity to exercise their personal power. Wanting my son to be able to express himself, I decided clothing is a place where I can give him free reign to make his own choices within seasonal boundaries. The resulting combinations might be dubbed Rag-Bag Chic if they were endorsed by haute couture. Problem his, his flat out rejection of anything other than sweatpants has taken on a maniacal overtone.

A few years ago we were on vacation in Ireland and by the last evening we had come to the end of clean toddler clothes. We had picked up some new items during a shopping trip a few days earlier and felt this would be an excellent solution for the special farewell dinner we were about to enjoy at local fine dining establishment. We approached my Napoleonic little emperor with caution knowing from past experience that new clothes were likely to evoke a frosty reception. He grudgingly put them on with the carrot of adventure dangling before him.

Once in the car with time to think he began to loudly voice his objections. After 40 minutes crammed in a European economy car with a screaming toddler trying and nearly succeeding in completely removing his clothes while strapped into a car seat (Houdini lives on!), we arrived at the restaurant with an inconsolable child, ringing ears and short fuses. At this point I thought, "Is it worth ruining an entire evening for everyone just because I want to have my kid in clean clothes? Was this more about my image as a parent than about my child's happiness and enjoying time together?" So I chose to relent and end the stand off by fishing out some dirty clothes from the trunk, all the while feeling contrite for having let my let my rules interfere with my child's empowerment.

Fast forward a few years and I now see that this is not a phase he has grown out of at all. In fact he has staked out his position very clearly and with tight little borders - very few items of clothing make it past his rigorous scrutiny. I had mistakenly assumed that as he grew older and had more opportunities to make choices that he would loosen his grip a bit on this one - NO WAY!

And this is where things have become a source of agony for me. As a result of his clothing obsession, he is now missing out on new activities. Activities that he enjoys but refuses to dress for. A case in point was last week's meeting of the local Beaver's troupe. He was having a blast at the meetings - until the uniforms arrived. He steadfastly refused to wear the vest. It all came to a head last Wednesday during the initiation ceremony when the kids receive a scarf. My son's tolerance for new clothing items hit overload and he staged a revolt. My frustrated husband, who is generally endlessly patient, ended up removing him from the meeting since it was clear that he was not going to budge on his position and it was causing massive disruption.

This is not the only place to pose a problem for him - there are special clothes required for skating, swimming, and a myriad of other adventures. Yesterday was the turning point when my son decided to dig his heels in while getting ready to attend a special dinner where a dress code was in effect. We had all been excitedly anticipating this event for well over a week. My son had choosen his clothes well in advance. It seemed like clear sailing until the moment of truth arrived and he refused to get dressed. This time, with the writing on the wall after the Beaver meeting fiasco, I took a stand. After some preliminary discussion, bargaining and ....I'm not proud about this one - threats.....I cancelled the event thereby unleashing the perfect storm of Pre-schooler revolt.

Now, I'm sure that many of you by this point think that either my son or I need some kind of psychiatric help and you may be right! But bear with me as I continue to make sense of this for myself as I think, that like many things in life, this is not really what it appears to be on the surface.Having had lots of sensations wash through me....actually "wash" is such a gentle term for the extended tsunami that has been roaring away.... I have largely moved through the many thoughts I have been having about how poorly qualified I am as a parent.

I had to first get past my embarrassment and then my irritation. Beyond that I ran smack into a pit of grief for my son's lost opportunities because of his inflexibility and inability to see the larger impact of his choices. I then felt the sinking feeling of despair at resorting to the tried and true parenting methods that have been passed down generation to generation of shame and deprivation. And now today is a new day and I realize that no matter what has been unfolding, I have continued to communicate to my son that I not only love him, but that because I love him - it is time for him to begin to experience the direct consequences of his choices. I have begun a campaign to help him notice repeatedly that he can make a new choice at any time if he doesn't like what his choice has created. We both got curious about why he keeps making choices about simple things like clothes that limit the big picture of the fun he was looking forward to. No answers yet but lots of questions I know he had never thought about.

My heart aches for him when I imagine the disappointment he will feel when he realizes that one of the consequences of his choices may be that he will not be re-joining his friends at Beaver's or learning to swim with other kids his age - that is unless he decides to make some new choices to navigate past the clothing issues he has created for himself.

I certainly feel guilty that I did not see that this situation needed correction earlier in his life - AND I firmly believe that guilt is useless energy but can fuel movement in a new direction. So, today marks a change in direction for our household. Who says you need a long time to turn a ship around....hang on to your seats for this course correction!

I'm pretty sure that any of us as parents set out with only the best of intentions as we enter the Pandora's Box of raising children. I know that my curiosity has served me well so far. I have far more empathy for my own parents than I had ever imagined...although I'm sure I was a little angel (wink!).

More significantly, the lesson that my son has taught me about stubbornly holding fast to one point of view so that it eclipses all kinds of new experiences that lie beyond it has been nothing short of profound.

I know that we both must be willing to change and that that change does not require that either of us have to give up our personal power, only that we must both honestly see and accept the consequences of our actions to date and to use them as sign posts as we navigate forward, creating more room for expression and expansion in our lives.

I'm sure one day my family and I will find this whole period in life hysterically funny. Right now, I'm just moving out of the "hysteria".....I'll let you know when the "funny" rolls in...assuming I'm still blogging 20 years from now!