Im Dreaming Of A Normal
Christmas
A recurring theme I am hearing from parents this month
has been the dream of normalcy. Perhaps more than
any other time of year, the majority of people (adults
and children) long for a time of peace and contemplation,
feeding the dream of a perfect Christmas. Families
of severe behaviour children often feel different
than everyone else throughout the year so they long
for normalcy all the more at this time of year.
Unfortunately, the additional excitement of Christmas
presents and parties, often mingled with memories
of negative past experiences associated with the occasion,
can result in severe behaviour children being even
more challenging than usual at Christmas (or just
being their typical complex selves).
Parents, juggling the additional demands of the
holiday season, must not only handle ongoing behaviour
problems but also appear cheerful (or at least non-hostile)
to their other children and visiting relatives while
once again facing the reality of what Christmas looks
like in their home.
How do you write a Christmas letter that sounds
upbeat while noting that your son has only been suspended
from school twice this term?
How do you act nonchalant at the Sunday School Christmas
pageant when your daughter is heard swearing backstage
moments before the curtain lifts?
How do you feel NORMAL?
I have been contemplating this question a great
deal in recent weeks and here are a few of my thoughts:
Live life to the best of your ability and focus not
on being normal, but on just being you. After all,
thats all each of us can control.Some final
notes
*A special hello to all of the parents and professionals
who I have been able to meet around BC recently in
my workshops. It has been a joy to share my story
with you.
*I will be presenting in Vancouver, Kelowna and
on Vancouver Island in early 2003. Check the January
newsletter for specific dates.
Wishing you an authentic and love-filled Christmas!
- Tanya
Recommended Reading:
The Normal One: Life with a Difficult or Damaged
Sibling, By Jeanne Safer, 2002.