What Works For Us: Consistency

The first pillar of parenting that has truly saved our sanity and created peace in our world is consistency.  Now, you might be thinking, of course, Lindsay.  Consistency is just plain good parenting.  And I would agree!  But the level of consistency I’m talking about here is enough to make the most organized person on the planet (Wes) a little overwhelmed. 

I remember when Marshall had just been diagnosed, and we were making plans with some friends.  I was talking through what we were going to do, what order things would happen, etc, so that I could communicate them clearly to Marshall.  I explained to my friend that Marshall does best when he knows what to expect and I remember her saying, “if he wants things to happen a certain way all the time, is it better to keep things predictable or better to teach him to adjust?” 

The question caught me off guard a little bit, and I spent some time examining my motives.  Was I just keeping things consistent to appease him?  Would a trial by fire, loosey goosey approach better suit him? 

The bottom line is this:  in order for a child to learn to be flexible, there has to be a routine, a “norm,” a pattern to break from.  None of us, myself included, would function well in complete chaos—not knowing when or where or next meal would be, not knowing when to expect people walking through the door, being unsure of when to expect quiet or noise, productivity or calm.  Regardless of how laid back each of us may be, we know certain things to be true about the world.  For Marshall, creating a foundation of what to expect has been crucial to his success.

Now, let me tell you something.  Consistency might sound easy, but it’s not.  In fact, it’s utterly exhausting.  Planning ahead for my own life (meals, groceries, chores, logistics, social events) is a lot to begin with.  Planning through the eyes of a child, especially one with special needs, takes things to a whole new level of crazy.  Being a teacher, I’ve practiced this in my classroom for years—planning instruction down to the minute, adapting schedules for field trips and assemblies, anticipating and planning for student needs.  It’s second nature, to a certain extent, when you’re used to doing it 40+ hours a week.  The reality of bringing that level of intentional thought home was a little overwhelming.  I really had to come to grips with the fact that it was no one else’s job but my own to meet Marshall’s needs and help him navigate the world.  There was no quick fix or easy answer for things like learning to use public restrooms (noisy hand dryers, other unexpected noises) or even entering a crowded room (restaurants, sporting events, cookouts, social events.)  Just because these things were easy for others didn’t mean we were entitled to that same level of ease. 

Let me just take this moment to introduce a word that will seem out of context: grief.  A wise mentor once told me that it was okay to mourn the life I thought I would have in each season of my child’s life.  If I’m being honest, I was a little offended at first.  Mourn what?  I have a happy, healthy, beautiful son.  And by the grace of God, that’s true.  I don’t have much to grieve—I haven’t missed out on much so far.  But in the moments when the it’s not fairs creep in, I’m reminded that sometimes things are a little harder for us than they are for others.  And that’s just the way it is.  Recognizing it and moving on have been great repetitive steps for me.  We all grieve things we thought we were entitled to from time to time—in this realm, sometimes they are just things most people take for granted.

The day I made a visual schedule for our life at home was one of my brief moments of grief.  I was so annoyed at the painstaking work I had to do for something as simple as what our day looked like when other kids were happy to run and bounce and climb and play without a care in the world.  I painstakingly planned out our unstructured days (like summer) and pieced them together, one Velcro strip at a time.  We, of course, paired the visuals with verbal descriptions of what the plan was, but for a long time Marshall truly needed the visuals as a comfort and guide.  And as annoying as it was to plan our every move—and stick with it—it worked wonders for us. 

You see, once Marshall knew he could trust what we said and count on the plans to happen in the order presented to him, it allowed him to relax.  He was less on edge.  It took much more for him to have a meltdown.  And by golly, the little things started to rattle him less once he knew he could count on the big things.  Putting in the hard work of being consistent with every thing we could control gave Marshall the freedom to practice his ability to adjust with all the things we can’t possibly control.  He has learned to better adjust when things don’t go as expected because we have given him the foundation of what he can count on. 

We have chosen the hard road of predictable bedtimes, meal times, meal routines, and expectations for behavior; warnings before transitions, detailed explanations of social events, and an overall over-planned life.  Wes and I talk through what to expect when we go places, what we plan to expect from Marshall, and what our plan is if things don’t go as expected.  Are you tired from reading that sentence?  You’re right—it’s ridiculous and just as exhausting as it sounds.  But it’s just plain the way things are.

We have our moments.  We have evenings that don’t go as planned that may bleed into days that don’t go as planned and let me tell you—we can see a difference in every area of Marshall’s demeanor and behavior.  The more we dig in and choose the hard work of consistency, the more we reap the benefits of the trust we’ve established with our son.  He knows he can count on the things we say—and when we mess up or life happens, he’s better suited to appropriately assimilate that information.

Last week, our family took our annual beach vacation.  Seven glorious days of sand, sun, water and unstructured life.  We did not take a visual schedule, but we did have a plan each day, and we communicated it as best we could.  And, for the most part, Marshall was fine.  Isn’t it funny how sometimes, the benchmarks and milestones of childhood aren’t the traditional ones, like preschool graduations and birthdays and first and last days of school, but rather the passage of time between annual traditions?   When I reflect on our beach vacations over the last five years, it’s enough to make my jaw drop.  Our lives have changed so much year to year—and Marshall’s ability to “go with the flow,” has improved dramatically.  Like anything, I think it’s easy to play off this improvement with things we don’t control, like the fact that he’s getting older, but I can tell you in my heart of hearts that the hard work has paid off, and will continue to pay off, as long as we’re willing to do it. 

Sure, there are rough days and there are days we just want to throw in the towel.  There are days we miss the mark or skip a step or just get plain lazy.  But the fewer and further between those days are, the happier and calmer our kids are—both of them.  When I think of the areas where we get the most bang for our buck in parenting, I can tell you without a doubt that consistency is one of them.   

To all the other over planners out there, hashing out every detail of the coming week, wondering if it’s all worth it: I see you.  I’m with you.  We’ve got this.