The Battle Of Peer Dependence: Chapter 4 - Part Two

What a wild few weeks we have had!

We had snow on May 12th.  On May 26th, it was 87 degrees at noon.

Three weeks ago, I had no available services for my son due to COVID-19 shutdowns.  No arguments from me; safety first! I had (and will always have) a love-hate relationship with the Early On theory of "therapist as teacher for parent as coach" - but three years of that gave me plenty of practice being my son's main therapist so I felt reasonably competent for a non-professional.

Around 10 days ago, I got a call that the clinic where he gets outpatient PT and speech was reopening for evaluations only with lots of safety precautions - but the Spawn was due for an evaluation anyway  - and maybe we could get trained eyes on him twice or three times more before fall if I played my cards right. 

His evaluations were three days later; by that point, Michigan was planning to reopen medical services for non-essential procedures like outpatient pediatric rehab on May 29th.  God willing and the creek don't rise - Spawn should be getting weekly services starting this Friday!

Almost two years ago, Spawn was so nervous at his first outpatient PT appointment that he cried the entire time. 

A year ago, he spoke so little that the speech therapist used a parent-reported score on the test of Spawn's communication and speech skills because I think he said 3 words in the space of an hour.  If he said more words, it was simply a repeat of "bye-bye" as he tried to crawl out of the room or climb back into the stroller.  (He is persistent - which is both an incredible strength and weakness at the same time.). 

This time, Spawn was nervous at the beginning of PT - but mostly because every human outside of the house was wearing a cloth thingy on their face - and that's a bad sign, right?  Mamma's wearing one too?  Oh...that can't be good.  So he was a bit clingy and teary at first.   That ended when the physical therapist who examined him pulled out a ramp and launched a toy car across the room.  Pretty quickly, Spawn was describing the different cars as "monster trucks" or "little excavator" or "blue car" while practicing transitioning between objects.

The best moment came, though, when the same speech therapist who examined him a year ago came into the room to examine him again.   After chattering with him as he pointed out the people and cars and weather outside the window, she excused herself.   Spawn's speech had grown so much in a year that she needed to get a different test; he'd advanced beyond the one she was expecting.    He still qualifies for speech services - but he's in the ballpark for a kid his age now - and that feels amazing.

Years ago, a therapist I admire said something in a group session that stuck with me.   He said that he doesn't always like the options he has available in his life - but he always focuses on the fact that he makes choices.   I think that stuck with me because I feel more empowered in my life when I accept that I make choices - and because of that - I have agency in my life.   Developing rapid onset severe preeclampsia with HELLP affected the options I've had available in my life since 28 hours before my son was born - but I chose and choose the available option that best reconciles my beliefs with the needs of all the members in my family including me.

I bring this up while in a pensive mood because I often wonder if Marina Sears - author of "The Battle of Peer Dependence" - has ever recognized that she herself makes choices that lead to consequences.   Take this quote:

Six weeks after the sale of our house, we moved into my parents' home in Montana. At the end of a wonderful year with them, the children and I moved to a new home in Arlington, Texas. Living in Texas was a "wilderness" time for the children and me. My parents lived hundreds of miles away and even though they visited as often as they could, I felt that I was all alone.  (pg. 42)

After Jeff Sears died in a freak car accident,  Marina Sears was the head of her household.   Since her oldest child was 7 years old at that point, she was the only adult in the home.   Mrs. Sears was in complete control of where her family lived especially after the house she owned with Jeff was sold 14 months after he died.

From reading the previous quote, however, a reader would be excused for thinking that Marina Sears was a passive onlooker as her family completed two large moves in a year. 

Maybe she had an unusually precocious 8-9 year old who managed to move his entire family across state lines twice in two years.   Or her infant was really a prodigy of logistics prior to age two.

Or maybe part of the appeal of CP/QF theology is the abdication of personal responsibility for believers.   After all, fervent believers abandon any responsibility for deciding if or when their family is ready for another baby.   They simply have vaginal intercourse and declare that the timing of their family is "up to God".

Once you've given up responsibility for family planning, I guess it's not so hard to ignore the fact that a young widow with four children ended up feeling alone in Texas because the young widow chose to move to a location that was several days drive away from her parents.

There's nothing wrong with her choice to move at all - but her lack of responsibility for the natural consequences of her choice is troubling.

This next story occurred several months after Jeff died.  Marina was nearly due to give birth to her youngest son and her parents had moved from Montana to New Mexico (or Arizona or Texas; wherever they lived) to care for her and her family during labor and after the baby was born.   The reason I share this story is Marina's enthusiasm for God and lack of common sense must be exhausting for her extended family:

One morning after my father had taken Chris and David to school, I heard him in the hall bathroom, seemingly agitated about something. I was unaware that on the way to school that morning, he had asked the boys, " Is there anything I can do for you guys today?"

"Grandpa, every few days we need to pump up our bicycle tires with air. Could you look at them?" was their reply.

When he arrived back home he proceeded to take the tires apart to check on the conditions of the tubes. As I approached the bathroom door, he met me with a dirty, dripping bicycle tire.

"Where have these boys been riding their bikes?" he asked.

Since we lived in the country, I didn't quite understand the problem. So I explained that they had probably been riding on the gravel road, grass, and maybe the field.

" What's the matter?" I asked.

Still holding the dripping tire, he said, " David's front tire has 17 holes and his back one has 18. Where have these boys been riding? These tires shouldn't even hold air!" he exclaimed.

All of a sudden it hit me. " That's it! That's it!" I started jumping up and down. Being great with child, I must have been quite a sight!

He dropped the tire and said, "It's okay."

He probably thought I was going into labor, so I explained, "Daddy, don't you see? I don't know how to change a bicycle tire and neither do the boys. So God in His kindness kept the boys bicycle tires aired enough for them to keep riding. Isn't He wonderful?" (pg. 42-43)

Let's discuss the competency levels of the three generations of people present in this synopsis. 

Marina's parents are highly competent.  They've rearranged their lives to provide support for their widowed daughter who is about to give birth.  Marina's dad is taking the boys to school and asking them if they need anything done.   Marina's dad can change a bike tire.

Similarly, Marina's sons are quite competent for their ages.   Chris who is around 8 and David who is around 6 are refilling their bike tires every few days,  The two boys are keeping busy riding their bikes and going to school.   They know how to ask for help from their grandfather to solve a perplexing chronic problem

Yes, the men in this story are highly competent - but Marina is characterized as being nearly helpless.  In reality, she must have been completely exhausted.  I've never experienced advanced pregnancy - but even late second trimester pregnancy was tiring.  My stomach felt huge, my back was sore and my center of gravity was in a completely different place than normal.  I joked with my husband that I was afraid if I laid down on my back I'd never be able to get up again because I'd be stuck like a turtle turned upside down.  Marina wasn't just very, very pregnant - she had also been widowed five or six months before.   Grief is absolutely exhausting as well - so to my way of thinking - if she got out of bed that morning, she was doing amazingly well.

No, Marina is portrayed instead as a standard issue CP/QF woman - highly emotional and religiously excitable - who is seemingly incapable in the absence of a man.    She's very vague on where her young sons ride their bikes.  She didn't notice that their tires seemed flat or that the boys seemed to be exerting a lot of force to ride on flat tires.  Her sons didn't think to tell her about the tires - and if they did - Marina has no idea how to change a tire and seems unable to conceptualize that she could get help from anyone else.  The idea that Marina was completely incapable of  changing a bike tire is the most perplexing part of the story in my opinion.  Her boys are young so I'm assuming they are riding a single speed bike that the rider activates the brakes by reversing the direction of peddling.   The process of changing those tires is simple - simple enough that a CP/QF woman should be able to do it without infringing on "male" activities.   After all, Marina states that she doesn't have the knowledge to change the tires - not that she'd do it if she wasn't hugely pregnant and unable to maneuver well enough to change tires on a bike.

My life is often complicated - but not nearly as complicated as it could be if I had to be incompetent in the absence of a male protector.