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Natalie (right) with friend Emme.
This guest post was written by Kay Marner, an active writer and expert on topics such as ADHD, parenting, and international adoption. She contributes regularly to ADDitude magazine as their ADHD parenting blogger. She also occasionally writes for Adoptive Families magazine and contributes to a collaborative blog: a mom’s view of ADHD {everyday life with our ADHD kids}.
Kay wrote this article in August of 2010, but due to an oversight it was never published. I was honored to be given the option to publish Kay’s post here. As a prelude to the Best of the Best scheduled to be published on January 15th on social skills and play skills, Kay is providing us with this introduction to why social skills are so important to children with special needs. And to read what happened after this post, you will have to check back on the 15th! ~Danette
How could I, a grown woman, get so angry with a 9 year old girl? And, no, I’m not talking about my daughter, Natalie, who has ADHD; but her (former) neurotypical friend, Lydia.
Natalie and Lydia have been on-again, off-again friends since Lydia’s family moved into our neighborhood a few years ago. On again—when at home, and Natalie was convenient to play with. Off again—at school and on the school bus, where Lyd pretended she didn’t even know Nat.
“Lydia,” Nat would often say, “When I see you at school, you don’t have to say hi, but could you PLEASE at least smile at me?” Natalie wanted this friendship so badly.
Of course, it wasn’t all bad. Behaviorists will tell you that intermittent reinforcement is the most effective way to strengthen a behavior, and that was certainly the case in this friendship. Each time Lyd rang our doorbell, Nat was flooded with a dose of hope. A taste of what it’s like to be the BFF of a popular girl! Strong medicine for a child who doesn’t understand why she’s different; a sweet, sensitive girl who just wants to be liked.
Three weeks ago there was an “incident” that was, at least for me, the final straw. Nat was at the pool with her respite worker, Hannah. Lyd was there with her friend Ellie. Lyd approached Nat in the pool. “Get out of the pool. I need to talk to you privately.”
“I don’t want to make you sad, but I don’t want to be your friend anymore,” Lyd announced, devastating Natalie. That announcement echoed through Nat’s very existence for the next several weeks. Her pain was palpable. When it was more than she could bear, she let it out the only way she knew how—by scratching herself until she bled. (I have to wonder—is this a precursor to cutting?) She even did this in front of our psychologist.
I made a rule. If Lyd ever wanted to make up, Nat would not be allowed to play with her until Nat and I sat down with Lyd and her mom and had a serious talk. Does Lyd’s mom have any idea that Lyd refuses to acknowledge Nat at school? Friends at home means friends at school. Treat Nat like a peer, not a project. If you change your mind again, you’ll never get another chance. This may be fairly typical 9 year old girl behavior, but for us, the stakes are too high. You’d better watch out, because I’ll be watching you.
The girls had a natural break from each other for the next three weeks, as each was away from home for periods of time visiting relatives. Then, inevitably, they were both home; Nat having a lemonade stand with her friend Emme. Lyd came right over. I ran outside to hover. “Just go away, mom, please?” Nat said. Lyd went back home a minute later.
That day and the next, when I wasn’t in sight, Lyd kept popping over. Her little brother started relaying notes and verbal messages. I intervened. “Tell Lyd that if she wants to talk to Nat, it has to be with me and your mother.”
Next thing I know, I get a report from Emme. Lyd and Ellie came over, when I didn’t know it. Nat and Lyd shook hands, not making up, but confirming that they are no longer friends. Then, Lyd proceeded to tell Nat, in great detail, everything that’s wrong with her; all the reasons why no one would ever want to be her friend. “And it’s not true,” Emme said. “I’m Natalie’s friend.” Thank god for Emme.
I completely lost it. Across the street I went. Nat tried to follow, and I screamed at her to stay home. Lyd’s mom answered the door, and I let her have it. I screamed, crying: If Lyd doesn’t want to be friends with Nat, fine, but keep her away from our house! She keeps coming over to rub it in, to tell Nat why nobody will ever want to be her friend.
Lyd’s mom thought they’d just shook hands and made up. No! I screamed, and told her what really happened, yelling louder and louder. She needs to just stay away!
I’ll talk to her, her mom said.
Lyd and her mom rang the doorbell later. “I’m sorry,” Lyd said.
Still seething, I came back, “For which part?”
“For everything,” Lyd said.
“So, from now on, when you two see each other, you’ll say hello and walk on by?”
“Yes,” Lyd said.
Later, Nat said, “So Lydia and I aren’t going to be friends? No more sleepovers?” Oh, god. She still wants to.
The next day, I felt like I had an emotion-eruption hangover, not to mention feeling terribly embarrassed. When I ran into Lyd’s mom, it was my turn to apologize. I handled the situation badly. I let it build up; waited way too long to address it. I was a terrible example for the girls.
But inside I’m still crazy-mad. At a 9 year old girl, for simply being a 9 year old girl. Who have I become? Who is this out-of-control fiercely-protective mother?
Again, check back on the 15th for the Best of the Best and to read the sequel to Kay’s post and many other blogger posts on social skills and play skills. See you there! ~Danette
About Kay Marner
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