closeness without word - a few tips from dan svarre

Since our son moved in with us, four years ago, I have not stopped reading. Books about parenting, the brain, adoption & fostering, trauma and much more. While I have yet to read a single book where I agree with everything, there are certainly several books that have shifted my view. Books that have challenged, even provoked me. Books that have changed the way I parent. A great number of those books are from Scandinavia. To me they represent a HUGE gap in the literature in the English-speaking literature. Down to earth and practical books that do not talk down to us as parents. I am very tired of being talked down to. As an adoptive parent I have, and have had, a lot of professionals in my life, judging my parenting – be it positively or negatively. I know I am not alone in this experience of being judged. It comes with being an adoptive parent. It happens to us all. Before, during and – hopefully – after we become parents.

I gained a little more insight and inspiration recently, in finishing very good parenting book, in my mother tongue Danish. Dan Svarre’s Glade børn med højt selvværd – en forældreguide [Happy children with healthy self-worth – a guide for parents], Politikens Forlag 2008.

Many passages struck a cord with me. Especially, Svarre’s emphasis on the role of the parent, and the necessity for the parent to deal with their own childhood experiences. This is something I wholeheartedly believe in, and to some extend, something I was quite unprepared for back in 2012, when our son came to us. Apart from the depth of love that I feel for my family, the greatest surprise in becoming a parent for me was how it forced me to look at my own background, if I wanted to avoid the mistakes I and my siblings had been subjected to, but by that same token I also saw a need to realise what in my background had been good, and perhaps deserved to be repeated or even strengthen. That latter realisation only came later. And only after getting old-fashioned mad at my parents, an anger I let flow rather freely in another blog.

The longer I spend in my role as a mother, the more I realise it is not a role. It is being. There are no tricks, no quick fixes. For them or for us. There really only is being. Being ourselves at that. Our children are heat-seeking missiles for authenticity, perhaps more than most as their sensitivities have been fine-tuned to pick up moods and even slight changes in moods, to keep safe. I believe there is healing for both them and us in just that. Authenticity. Finding and living it is easier said than done. They know when we are not being true to our own selves. Better than us. Before we even realise. When my son points out my moods, it is my job to listen and be honest.

The quality of the connection with my son is very much something that it is in my power to influence. And it is something that I can choose to nurture or not. Much of the teachings about this parenting stint – the books, the courses, the workshops, the blogs – is about words, wisdom (or not) steeped in words. This blog included. I tire of words. Yet I know they are necessary. But often they are not.

So back to closeness without words, the title of this blog. With the author’s permission I have translated a short passage from Svarre’s book Glade børn. It is a passage from about closeness without words. In my opinion, we often overlook such subtleties in being with our children. In between all the practicalities, the laundry, the meals, the packed lunches, the keeping of appointments, the bath times, the bedtimes and so on. I also happen to believe that it is these moments of no words that we are really being asked to give when we are asked to give our children min. 10 minutes a day of undivided attention, as suggested by so many parenting experts, from Bryan Post to Laura Markham and Patty Wipfler. That always seemed a lean diet to me.

I think Svarre puts the importance non-verbal togetherness eloquently. This is what I strive for. It may be obvious to you, but I admit it wasn’t to me. And it something I work on. Consciously. Because practice makes the master. Or so I hope.

Anyway here goes an extract from Svarre’s book Glade børn.

Have a good life

As a parent the best you can do for your child is to have a good life. For you are your child’s primary and more intense relation through its early childhood, and the way in which you create your relation, will have lasting impact on, how your child may experience and live his or her own life. The principles and mechanisms are actually quite simple: Walk ahead. Lead the way. Show how you do it. Be what you wish to be reflected in your child. Create a good life for yourself. Create an atmosphere of containment, acceptance and enjoyment.

The principles and mechanisms for the development of your child’s self-worth are equally simple. Here are a few examples:

·      If you show your child, that you feel joy, value and enjoyment in its company, it will interpret it as, and feel like it, is valued.

·      If you emanate joy and fulfilment sparked by the sheer existence of your child, it will interpret and experience, that its sheer existence has value.

·      If you can be quiet together with your child in intense contact and in intense presence, the child will experience that its sheer presence has value.

·      If you receive your child and contain whatever emotions it may harbour, without necessarily having to try to create solutions [for them], your child will experience that its emotions are acceptable and, moreover, valued just as they are.

·      If you show your child that you accept and respect that it may have a need to withdraw and to be alone, your child will experience, that its very being is being respected and valued.

·      If you take responsibility for addressing an important and necessary conflict and can be attentive and accepting towards both yourself and your child, your child will experience that it has value.

It is the glint of joy in your eyes of seeing your child again, which is reflected in your body language, when your child returns from nursery, kindergarten or summercamp, that tells your child that it has true value. Thus you can support your child without using as much as a single word.

I’d only add that as adoptive parents that obviously we have not had the privilege of being the primary caregivers throughout our children’s childhood. But we hope to be principal ones. Getting there takes time and unstinting perseverance – on both parts.

The translation is mine, and so any mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

sleep as a place of safety

Well, our boy still sleeps in our bedroom, still in the mega cot (though he will be growing out of it soon). Needless to say I still love having him there. No big surprises there then. Not much change from my last blog not he subject.

We had a short interlude of c. two months when he slept in his own room, directly below ours. By his own choice. We'd been to IKEA brought some new shelving and some boxes that slotted into it perfectly - can't remember the name, but it could have been something like Støblø.

Digger helped put it all together. His very first flat pack assembly. And it was fantastic. He loved it, we loved it. And the improvement to the ease of getting to (and tidying!) his toys was instant. As we marvelled at the finish product, he proclaimed he want to 'sleep in my room tonight.' So that's what we did. It worked for a few weeks. With us parents slogging up and down the stair during the night. But then Digger started nursery, and got ill, typical first term stuff. So he moved back into the old cot in our room.

Starting nursery is BIG! And it is clearly affecting his dreams and sleep. He often wakes around 4am, and we have an exchange like this:

'Mummy.....?'

'...Yes, sweets..?'

'I'm scared.'

Then I get up, and go to his cots. To stroke his chin, hold his hand tuck in him, etc. And stay for a little while. But other times, he just comes to our bed.

And this is what started me on this blog: that space between daddy and me I think for him is the safest place on earth for him. He will wiggle and move around, being little spoon of either of us, while always making sure he can reach the other. A toe on my leg. A hand on daddy's arm. Just some connection between us all.

This works for us.

And I have little doubt that he will grow out of it. He already has once. But then needed us again.

He is such a big brave boy, and they too are allowed to be scared, and cry - a lot sometimes - and need their mummy and daddy. That is what I tell myself, as I brace myself for his first operation later today. Emergency. Of a partly amputated long finger with a damaged artery. Under general anaesthetic.

Once that is all over, I cannot wait for the long night's sleep that will follow. Be it in little bed, big bed or a combination of the two. I hope the latter.

Wish us all luck. But most of all him.

Toddler Tooth Brushing – La Cucaracha style

What has this got to do with adoption?

Simple, I try to minimise tears and force in everything I do.

We all know adopted children start for a position of grave and fundamental loss. They don’t need more punishment, rejection and hurt, if we can possibly avoid it.

So I try very hard to do everything a gentle and respectful way.

Tooth brushing is an area that could so easily have turned into daily arguments. And I can’t just go ‘oh well, it doesn’t matter.’ Here I do have to follow through (most nights anyway).

I know only of two ways of brush a toddler’s teeth: with tears and brute force or without. The latter being preferable, but achievable only if only a smithereen of pressure is applied and the toddler sets the tempo. It has taken us 18 months to get there, and the journey wasn't a straight line, but we now have a format that seems to work for us. And yes it involves singing.

La Cucara-cha, La Cucara-cha …

That’s the song we brush our teeth to. Every night.

The tooth brushing comes at a very specific point of the night-time routine. Certain things can be cut out from the routine, like the bath itself if we are running late, but the general arch of the routine has to stay in the same order for the night-time magic to work. Tooth brushing has its place in this order. It comes between the bath itself and creaming up. Just after being held as a baby for little while, all cocooned and wrapped up tightly in a warm towel. Then we slowly move to the sink, a toothbrush is chosen amongst several and a dollop of paste administered, by either of us.

All the while we sing La Cucaracha, and perhaps doing a little dance or wiggle to it too.

I don't like arguing over the issue, so I always let Digger know that I have all the time in the world, but that I will finish off. I tried letting him do it completely on his own, thinking in time he would get better, and that it didn’t matter too much – everything not to upset the little man! Especially in the beginning. But I soon noticed his milky white teeth were getting a little yellow. Yuk. So, now I insist at least that once a day, after the bath.

Digger usually starts off himself, and now even brushes rhythmically to La Cucaracha. He is definitely getting better at brushing. In the morning, we let him do it himself, when we all do it together. It can take 10 mins for him to be ready for me to finish it, or 1min. Overtime this window has gotten shorter. He knows I mean business.

We check and say ‘hallo tooth’ to each and every one of them. Or the shorter version ‘Hallo, teeth’. ‘Say aaaa’ or some other open sound to check the back teeth is necessary. I hold the brush like a I would a pencil, so as not to ram it in his little mouth. The ‘tiger’ grin, that is clenched and bared teeth, is also becoming a true ritual. Roaring goes well with it too. It gets all the front teeth in one go, and loads of foam going too. Digger does appreciated that I can produce quite a lot more foam than he can. You see, he loves tooth paste. I remember loving the stuff myself…I think he could eat a whole tube of it if we let him. But I know a child, who’s teeth rotted, as he eat his way through vast quantities of it. We keep the tooth paste as a treat, twice a day. Only ever served on a brush, and accompanied by brushing.

Tooth brushing toddler tempo is another area where slowing down and turning up the rhythm and multisensory approach is definitely the quicker way. Especially if performed over time.
Then it really gets quicker.

La Cucara-cha, La Cucara-cha ….

I’d love to hear other people ideas on this subject.

Here’s a link to the Gispy King version for the extra keen, or those, like me, who do not necessarily remember titles of songs, but more the melody: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_VILr1xH3io