Before becoming a parent, I had little understanding of what it meant for a child to struggle with transitions. In my blissfully ignorant, child-free days, I thought, “Kids can be slow, but just guide them, and they’ll learn to adapt.” Then I had a child who turns every change into a chaotic scene, leaving me wishing I could have a chat with my pre-parent self. It turns out that trying to move her from one activity to another not only disrupts her world but can turn her into a whirlwind of frustration, making it impossible for both of us.
This is especially true for my youngest, Lily. As a baby, she would wail at the mere sight of her car seat. As a toddler, she experienced anxiety every time her other parent left for work, and even simple tasks like getting dressed became monumental challenges. Change has never been her friend.
Now at six, Lily still has a tough time with transitions. Whether it’s dinnertime, school, or bedtime, she often gets so engrossed in whatever she’s doing that moving on feels like an impossible task. She either can’t focus on what’s next or is deeply entrenched in an activity that magically requires just two more minutes of her time. This creates a whirlwind of turmoil—she doesn’t listen, resists, and often erupts in frustration.
Please, don’t diagnose my child. I’m acutely aware that her sensory issues and anxiety contribute to her struggles with change. I despise that she feels overwhelmed by a world that often seems too fast and loud for her to handle.
I’ve tried countless strategies from doctors, therapists, and articles. I’ve set timers, created visual cues, and talked her through transitions. I’ve even made sure she knows the plan ahead of time, trying my best to allocate enough time for her to shift from one point to another. Sometimes these methods yield results, but more often than not, I find myself in a mess of tears and frustration.
I also have two other kids to get ready, both needing guidance of their own. While they aren’t as resistant, they can certainly be difficult when it’s time to follow directions. I have my own obligations—work, appointments, and self-care—that demand attention too. The idea of singing a song to signal transition time or using games to coax her along feels totally exhausting. Instead, I often meet her resistance with my own frustration, leading to a cycle of yelling and tears.
I’ve had to physically remove her from rooms to get her out the door, and I’ve dragged her to school while she threw a fit. It’s hard to maintain the calm demeanor I wish to have during these moments, especially when I read about transition strategies that promise to work like magic. My exhaustion runs deep, and I sometimes wonder if I’m missing something crucial or if this is simply who she is.
I don’t have the luxury of 15 to 20 minutes to navigate each defiant transition, and on tough days, I feel guilty for my reactions. I can’t help but compare her to her siblings, and I worry that my focus on her needs detracts from the attention I can give the others. It’s a heavy burden, and I often feel like an inadequate parent to all three of them.
Nonetheless, I always make it a point to reconnect with Lily after a rough day. She knows I love her, and I know she’s trying her best. I’m trying too. This is the essence of parenting—navigating the constant ebb and flow of our unique challenges, especially when it comes to transitions.
For more information about managing your own parenting journey, check out this helpful resource on home insemination.
In summary, parenting a child who struggles with transitions is a challenging experience. It requires patience, understanding, and a willingness to adapt, even when it feels overwhelming. The journey is ongoing, and it’s important to remember that we’re all just doing the best we can, one transition at a time.
Leave a Reply