Show, don’t tell.
Or, at least show while you tell.
That’s a cardinal rule around here. If you want my kid to do or learn something, show him what you mean. Visually. Write it down. Give him a live demonstration. Show him a picture. Or even better, a video.
Honestly, I’d have a hard time parenting this kid without Google Image search and YouTube. And I’m forever grateful to all of the people who post pictures and videos about the most mundane things and make them accessible to the whole world. They’re so darned useful.
I’ve used photos or videos to prepare my kid for everything from rollercoasters to EEGs. This past week, he needed to get a blood draw. He’s generally pretty good now about getting that done, after years of trying, but there’s still always a risk that anxiety could capsize the effort. So, before we went, I pulled up a photo on Google of another young man getting his blood drawn at a similar lab.
[Parent tip: If you’re googling photos or videos to show your child, don’t let him watch you scroll through to find the right one. Do your search first, pick the appropriate “happy" ones, and skip all the pics of bruised arms and other mishaps that come up when you search for “blood draw." Those types of pics definitely do not help.]
My son stared at the photo on my computer screen for a few minutes, and I could almost see the wheels turning in his brain. He touched his left hand to his right arm where they’d be placing the needle. I pointed out all of the things in the photo—the chair with the cushioned bar to rest his arm, the lab tech’s gloves, the tight band she’d place on his upper arm.
See, this boy’s doing it. Easy peasy. You’ve done this before, remember? Nothing to worry about.
He was nervous, but went along. I promised him that we would get donuts after, but mostly tried to keep my own nervous chatter to a minimum. There were quite a few people in the lobby waiting, but I had made an appointment so luckily we didn’t have to wait long.
After we checked in, we sat in the corner and I pulled up the same photo on my iPad. He stared at it again, touching his arm. Then, the lab tech called us in.
When we walked into the long narrow lab room, with multiple stations set up across it, I remembered a much younger and smaller boy bolting across this very room and crouching in the corner, and how much time was spent coaxing that kid back to the chair. For many years, and at many other labs, we had to ask for extra support staff to hold his arms and legs to get this done.
This day, though, he walked in quickly. Sat in the first chair. Put out his arm. I gently held his other hand just to remind him not to grab at the needle. The lab tech was quick and he participated perfectly. Just like the young man in the photo. He was so happy when we left there, very clearly proud of his success. And so was his mom.
That photo was the key, it helped really solidify in his mind what to expect and reminded him that he could do it. I know these visual supports work, I’ve seen them work over and over, but I’m still sometimes surprised when they work so well.
Here's another recent example, with an even greater stressor. A haircut.
It might seem strange that he struggles with haircuts even more than visits to the lab or doctor. Probably because they take longer and haircuts are really so much more an affront to the senses - the cold water getting spritzed on your head, the noisy clippers and painful-looking scissors, the itchy hair snippets falling on your neck or down your shirt.
Over the years, there have been a few calmer times when he could go to a quiet salon or a patient stylist would agree come to our house. His school now even has a hair dresser who comes to campus once a month to cut the students’ hair. But lately my son has been refusing even that.
So he’s forced to wear a not-very-fashionable mom-wielding-clippers cut. The event typically occurs over a long break from school, where I can literally take several days to get through it. He can’t tolerate a haircut for very long, so instead he has to tolerate a crooked style for a few days until I can even everything out. And, during each torturous session, he’s twitching and crying out and irritated beyond measure. I have to work very fast, bribe him with candy, and by the end we’re both sweating and covered with hair. It’s not a fun time.
But a few months back I stumbled upon an incredible support. In anticipation of another attempt to get this boy's mop under control, I was looking online for some simple how-to videos for cutting men’s hair. I figured if I’m really going to be his stylist, I need to get better at it.
I found the Wahl website, which has several 2-minute videos of a stylist demonstrating how to use clippers to fashion different men’s hairstyles. I found one that I thought I could do. Really basic. But it wasn’t just a lesson for me, it turns out.
My kid watched the videos over my shoulder a few times, and he didn’t freak out when I told him it was time for us to try it. This nonchalance about a haircut was definitely new. So, when I set up for his haircut in the bathroom, I put my iPad on the counter so I could play that magical video on repeat.
I was stunned. He let me cut his hair. In one sitting. With very little protest. He only twitched a couple of times, when I needed to cut above his ears, which he really dislikes. But he sat the whole time and his hair actually looked almost decent.
I still wasn’t convinced that it could ever go that easily again, after so many years of angst over this issue. But he did it again this weekend, with the help of that video. This time he didn’t even twitch once. Turned out pretty good too, at least for a mom-cut.
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