Last month I shared some of my concerns over Big Boy’s nervous behavior during what was supposed to be our trip to Disney World. A comment on that post by The Absence of Alternatives has been ricocheting around my head ever since:
I read this post and I thought, “We went through the same thing!” My youngest is 7 years old and he is always sensitive. Not just emotionally, but sensory-wise… As he gets older, he becomes even more observant, therefore more pensive. But that’s just his personality. I just want to let you know I really don’t think it is because anything you did or didn’t do. Kids have different personalities. And my Mr. Monk has a personality that has never appeared in either family. But he is also one of the most observant and thoughtful people I know.
That comment, and some further reflection, made me wonder about the extent to which kids – or, I suppose, people in general – who are more sensitive manifest this trait in all the ways we value and also in all of the ways that make us worry about them.
The word “sensitive” has many positive connotations. We generally think of sensitive people as being kind and caring. In touch with their emotions. Empathetic, observant, attuned to others and their feelings.
And then there are the not-so-positive ones. Quick to anger. Easily excitable. Touchy.
Big Boy is sensitive in every sense of the word.
He is a Gentle Soul, delectably sweet. He drinks in all of the sights and sounds of the world as through a straw – steadily, like they are quenching some piece of his spirit. Still a baby himself, he relishes his ability to protect and comfort his younger brother. He hates to see anyone or any creature sad or injured. He loves to help. He is good at helping.
However, for all of these positive manifestations of his sensitivity, there are some that cause him sadness and me anxiety. His temper is hot and quick to boil. The smallest and least likely images and sounds frighten him – a baby llama in a book, the pitter-patter of a skipping CD. He cleaves to grudges, taking offense quickly and wrapping it around himself like an emotional life-vest.
Even his skin is sensitive. From the time he was an infant, we have tried every different natural and man-made concoction to try to soothe his skin’s extreme responses to cold, heat, dry, and damp.
On balance, I suppose I’d rather have a child who feels the highest highs, even if there will be a few low lows to go with them.
But I wonder how I should care for this sensitive creature. Should I swaddle him in literal and metaphorical silk – nurturing his spirit and shielding his soul and skin from offense? Or should I send him out naked so that he’ll more quickly earn the callouses that we sensitive beings need to get by in a world whose rhythms are so different from our own?
Do you think of yourself as a sensitive person? Do you embrace your sensitivity or have you tried to “toughen up”?
Image: Raspberry on child’s hand by Raphael Quinet via Wikimedia Commons under a Creative Commons license.
{ 42 comments… read them below or add one }
My oldest son had similiar reactions at that age. Right down to the sensitive skin. What was so frustrating is that he was (still is) so inquisitive.
Do you suspect that your son is highly intelligent… gifted? Often times children with extremely high IQs are super sensitive and emotional. The developement of their maturity and emotional levels don’t always keep pace with their intelligence.
When my son was tested for the gifted class in school (1st grade) the school district psychologist told me that he had the highest IQ of any child she had ever tested in her career. She asked me what my goals were for him. I told her that I wanted him to be a well-rounded, socially adept, productive member of society. She was so relieved.
I spoke with Mr. A’s teachers and told them that I wanted him to go outside at recess and play kickball. Not stay in and read. So yes, we did nudge him to step outside his comfort zone. He wasn’t happy at first. But when he tried it a second time it was ok.
He did skip 2nd grade and he was able to catch up emotionally with the help of a great 3rd grade teacher. When the school wanted him to skip another grade I put my foot down and said no.
Did Mr. A acquire some of his behaviors from me? Possibly. My IQ isn’t like his. But I was a very sensitive child as well. I’m still rather emotional. I believe that Mr. has come further in 16 years than I have in 40. Some days I wish my mother had nudged me a little bit.
Big Boy is a very verbal two-year-old – so much so that I often forget that his emotional maturity is not on par with his vocabulary.
Gifted? I don’t know. In my ten years of teaching, I have no experience working with very young children. I suppose time – and his teachers – will tell.
I love what you have to say here about the idea of balance: nurturing our sensitive kids, while simultaneously challenging them in the ways that will help them be, to borrow your words “well-rounded, socially adept, [and] productive member[s] of society.”
Big Boy is far happier at storytime at the library than he is at his tumbling class. But maybe we should keep on going to both.
This is something I think about SO MUCH. I have a sensitive first born, too. And two of my best friends do as well. We talk about this a lot.
It will come as a shocking surprise (sarcasm) but I am very sensitive. To a painful and uncomfortable extent. I vividly remember my Dad telling my Aunt, when I was about 8 or 9 and was hurt, “oh don’t worry about it, she’s just really sensitive.” And of course I was so hurt. It felt like he had called me something nasty. Part of that was his tone, but I folded that bit of information up and stored it deep within me…
“I am sensitive and that is bad.”
Not my Dad’s fault, it just was.
Right now, I’m choosing a bit more of the shielding than the allowing inevitable callouses. They’re kids, you know. They really are babies. I don’t hover or over-step boundaries, I don’t think…but I allow my boy to be him, while covering him with grace, I guess. And slowly, we’ll talk about it more and more and I think that’s the best thing we can do for them. Slowly, his Dad and I will make decisions here and there to let him go and to let him get hurt. And then we’ll talk about it again. I think it’s a moment by moment thing, decision by decision depending on the circumstances/experience.
Wow, I’m thinking out loud and I shall stop now :) Obviously, I love this topic.
Lovely, Heather: “I allow my boy to be him, while covering him with grace.”
And I think you’re absolutely right: the approach we take really must vary with the age of our kids. Maybe there’s an evolutionary reminder here: after all, why do little ones have such soft skin? Maybe it’s not meant for callouses yet.
This is a great topic. Elaine Aaron (“The Highly Sensitive Child,” “The Highly Sensitive Person”) is well worth reading on this.
Sensitivity is just that, like an instrument meant to differentiate very subtle differences, but which can be damaged by blunt trauma.
As parents our task is to really understand and attune with our sensitive kids, helping them become solid and resilient enough to cope with being sensitive in an insensitive world, and helping them own and channel sensitivity as a strength as they develop.
Such “Orchid Kids” are like thoroughbreds or Ferraris in that they can do amazing things, but are also high maintenance.
As for sudden onset llama revulsion, I’ve heard llamas are prone to spit and can be rather mean (but maybe they’re just sensitive); it playfully made me think that in his past life with the Incas he didn’t much care for them and still remembers to stay away. Or maybe his old Tibetian soul just balks at the insult of calling such a beast a “llama.”
In any event, as parents it can help to think about the different “windows” through which our kids experience the world ( http://tiny.cc/mKMZg ). Sensitive kids seem to experience sensory overload which can trigger the temper outbursts. I know that yoga, or at least meditative breathing, is really powerful for calming the brain when it gets skittish and restless.
You can teach a little yoga to the kids, but if you do the yoga (or the mindfulness meditation) you can telepathically nurse and contain them with it.
If enough of us parents wake up and better attune with our world, our sensitive kids will have an easier time of things.
Lastly, “Avatar” could be seen as a movie all about the insensitivity of the collective and the need to re-attune with nature (i.e. be sensitive).
Namaste
Interesting point. Perhaps I’ll try a book on the Dalai Lama next time. :)
Thank you for this link to your post on attuning ourselves to the various ways in which our children see the world. I found these lines especially resonant today: “When we give whats needed, rather than giving what we simply have lying around to spare, or giving what we felt like giving in the way we happen to be most comfortable giving, we begin to build real relationships. This might just be a way to improve our parenting and our world.”
Once again, you expressed something that’s been swirling inside my head with so much more eloquence than I could have ever done. Thank you! It warms my heart, as much as I empathize with you, to know that Mr. Monk seems to have found someone that experiences the world the way he does! :-) Esp. the quick to temper part. It often baffles me how someone that would be described as “timid” could have such a quick temper. So it’s kind of reassuring to know that he is not alone… Yes, he has sensitive skins too: Eczema. ugh. And did I mention the invisible lint between his toes that made him scream on our long flight? And all the scratchy clothes he refuse to wear. Now I think more about it: no salt or butter for his plain pasta. Plain bread. Does NOT like ketchup. (What kid does not like ketchup?!) I can’t tell you what works though. It seems to me that I do both: shielding him and letting him out. It is more trial by error since once he surprised us by nonchalantly picking up a snake from the side of the road. Huh? Big Boy may just surprise you like that yet. :-)
OK, I’m not a parent, as an initial disclaimer. However, someone I know who is a parent has 2 sons. Her first decided to stop eating meat when he was in grade school. He did not know there was a name for it. I went to visit once and we learned that we both did not eat meat. I called myself a vegetarian and he was interested to learn about this label.
The interesting point from my perspective was that this child’s mom didn’t make much of a fuss over his dietary decisions. She didn’t label it or call it out as being different. She just acknowledged that he had this preference and it was OK.
Great point, Diane. My own reactions to my son’s behavior will determine a lot in the long run. Labels are important to consider, as is the importance of acceptance.
Like your friend’s son, I became a vegetarian as a young child and have remained one for years. My early vegetarianism was not based on an ethical problem with eating meat; rather I had a “sensitive” stomach. Hmm…
Honestly, your son sounds like me as a child (and okay fine, as an adult too). I don’t know the best course of action. I sometimes wish that my parents had protected me a bit more. I feel like my soul has been raked over a million times over. But I also wouldn’t really change anything in my life. It all makes me who I am. My sensitivity – as you wrote – is my greatest asset and weakness. I wouldn’t trade it.
He sounds like a child who will truly “live” his life. He will feel the whole range of his emotions and there is nothing wrong with that. He will learn how to deal with his feelings and reactions as he matures. My oldest son (who is 23) is very social and strong and controlled young man but within him is an unbelievably compassionate soul. The best I think you can do is to be there for him. It’s not good to over shelter or overexpose…just let him live. I have always been hypersensitive, and though I can’t hide it, I prefer that to not feeling at all.
My husband is on the sensitive side, but I can be so tuned out that I miss some sensations; I focus on what I’m doing, but not always on what it feels like. It’s handy in situations such as childbirth, but inconvenient in cases of mysterious pains or ailments. My mother might blame a sleepless night on what she had for dinner; my husband will go on hiatus from coffee or cheese or meat because he thinks they’re the cause of some unhealthy feeling. Often it doesn’t occur to me to make those connections or even to wonder about them.
Our son is hyper-observant, which sometimes leads to reactions we’d call oversensitive. He’s most bothered by the radically new experiences – the ocean last summer (terrified), the snow last week (hesitant). Because he tends to warm up slowly but eventually, we’re trying to introduce him to new things with more frequency to help cushion the shocks.
Really interesting, Leslie. I have always thought of myself as a highly sensitive person, but I am remarkably out of tune with my own body. Like you, I routinely fail to connect physical sensations with something I have done or not done. I am also able to tune out distractions when I am focused on work.
I suppose, then, that I am counter-evidence for my own point: there are different shades of sensitivity. Perhaps the most sensitive among us feel more of these shades more completely?
This is such a good question. Growing up with sensitivities (part of OCD for me), I still don’t know how to deal with it. I don’t believe in ‘toughening kids up’, because I think that may stifle them emotionally–and we WANT to feel emotion right?–so I’m actually glad when my kids are sensitive to things other kids are not, like movies or video games, and I’m concerned when they are NOT. But at the same time, if it interferes with quality of life, that’s when we need to try to place boundaries on it, you know? The trick is HOW. Lord if I know. Just know you’re not alone. Not at all.
I have always been someone with high-highs and low-lows. Like Rebecca said, it is my greatest asset, and my greatest curse. It was harder when I was little, but over time my skin has toughened naturally, simply due to living in the world. Regardless of what you do — or don’t — do, I bet the same will be true for your son.
Consider yourself most fortunate to have that precious, sensitive child to nurture! Oh yes, more work. But a privilege to be able to feed them everything they’d like to explore.
My elder was sensitive to the ways of people – and demanding in his own way, to be constantly nourished with information and answers to his questions. His younger brother sounds a bit more like your Big Boy. Incredibly content and sweet-natured (still is, at 16), and yet less outgoing and verbal. But he was remarkably observant, and translated those observations into the visual realm.
His teachers often had no idea what to make of him, especially when he was 3 and 4 and 5.
I believe we have to take cues from our children, and our own sensitivity to who they are, right from the beginning. And then in following their lead, lead them to the places they wish to go. And balance that with the necessary tools they must have in order to live in the “real world.” Not so easy. But what a marvelous journey we take with them, and for them.
My oldest seemed very sensitive to me–he hated loud noises, was bugged by tags and sock wrinkles, and was almost afraid to try new foods (also the picture of the little kid falling out of the window on the rim of our window screens always made him cry…though emotionally he has been mostly a closed book, like his mother)–I read a book about Sensory Sensitivity Disorder, on the advice of a friend, but found that I didn’t think his was a disorder at all (his sensitivity did not result in behavior issues). Then I met a woman in the doctor’s office waiting room who was knitting washcloths out of very very soft yarn because it was the ONLY thing her sensitive children could tolerate on their skin. I realized then that it is all relative! Now at 8 he has outgrown some of his sensitivity, though he is still fairly particular about what he will eat and wear and covers his ears at parades or anywhere else there might be loud noises. I think as a parent I have had to learn (and still am learning) to be sensitive–to others’ feelings and needs.
It is, indeed, all relative. I am just heartened to learn that Big Boy is far from alone in his sensitivities and that Husband and I have good company in trying to navigate the best road between protecting him and helping to expose him to the insensitive parts of the world.
My son is very emotionally sensitive, he takes after me that way. The irony is, sometimes I think “how should I handle this child.” Weird, since I, of all people, should know. I believe there is a balance to be struck, you need to nurture his real self (even the parts that aren’t as easy as others) but yet, prepare him for a world where mom won’t always be there to pick him up and put him back on his feet. My point is, the love that you have for him shines through your post, and just the fact that you are thinking about how to best nurture that part of him means you are making a difference and doing the best that you can for him.
I find all of this to be that oh-so-common tangled web of nature and nurture. In my own home I witness three VERY different personalities in three VERY different boys. Their natural instincts, voices and reactions mix with the tenor of our home and it changes them a wee bit–it changes all of us. We are all changed by our surroundings and each other.
I am happy to say that my instincts as a parent–knowing when to push and when to lay off my kids–have come a long way in the short 7 years that I’ve been a mum. Much of that is due to the sheer amount of chaos in my home and the lack of time or patience I have to really think things through. I just have to trust myself now and go with the flow and do what feels right and…and…and…you get the drift.
There are these phases of parenthood we go through and, as I see it, they get harder as our kids get older. I know that in finding a course that you feel comfortable with NOW, you will set yourself up for more comfort later (if that makes any sense).
Both posts (yours and submom’s) are so interesting to me. I’ve thought about the issues you bring up as it applies to my own children but then you asked the question at the end: Do you embrace your sensitivity or have you tried to “toughen up”? I grew up in a household where the only person who was allowed to be sensitive was my mother. Everyone else was expected to toughen up. I think that explains my own issues with embracing a good cry, a frustrated word or an angry outburst.
I think we all need to work toward balance and resiliency–and that goes for our children as well.
My youngest son used to get so stressed out by the smallest things. It worried so much. I finally invited a yoga instructor over and together they worked on meditation techniques to help quiet his mind. I see that he still uses these practices when he finds himself ‘stressed out.’ Giving our children tools to cope with life’s struggles is a gift. They are able to learn quickly at a young age how to find their own balance and if we try real hard and allow them to fail, then we are teaching resiliency. This has been the hardest task as a mother. I’m still working on it.
As for me, I wish I had learned tools to help with my highs and my lows. I continue to work on calming my mind. It just amazes me how much quicker my young son is at it. Learning anything at a young age has so many advantages.
Terry, I really appreciate these words: “Giving our children tools to cope with life’s struggles is a gift. They are able to learn quickly at a young age how to find their own balance and if we try real hard and allow them to fail, then we are teaching resiliency.”
Like you, I am still learning how to be a more resilient person. I found yoga and meditative breathing later in life and they help some, when I actually practice them. I hadn’t thought – until your comment and Bruce’s above – about introducing yoga to my sons. Interesting idea.
I am so inspired by your words and by the sweet, informative and supportive comments here. There really isn’t any doubt in my mind that you are doing your best, which is magnificent, with both your lucky children. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again….I think the insight and power that is serving you best is your ability to ASK the hard questions and consider what your options are with love and logic. Luckily there is more than one right way to do things, and good parents are not perfect parents. I need this reminder today too!
Thank You for bringing a lovely sensitive boy into this world. I know he will grow into a lovely sensitive man!
Thanks, Camille, for your vote of confidence!
Isn’t it amazing how so many of us wonder and worry!
All we can do is the best we can with what we know and lean on each other. That’s one of the reasons why I love blogging and reaching out to great people like you – it helps to not feel so alone.
Thanks Kristen!
I know you read the letter to my oldest, I wrote a letter last week to my youngest boy who is very similar to yours – it’s called the Epic Adventure Right in Front of Me
Thanks so much for directing me to your post about your youngest. I loved reading about his sweet, sensitive soul and about the special bond you so obviously share. (I also love that you address him as your “knight in shining armour” – one of the very nicknames I have for my Big Boy!)
I think we’ve emailed about this before, but Fynn sounds a lot like your son, and I’m the same way. I can remember crying if noises got too loud, little things just set me off.
I did try to “toughen up”, but that’s not me. Drinking was a big part of that. I had two parents who weren’t “sensitive” and so I felt very misunderstood. I’m scared Fynn will feel the same way, so I’m embracing that part of me to help him, in a way. Fynn is so sweet and kind and generous, rough and tumble but still very sensitive. He was shy around one of the midwives during my pregnancy with Paige, and she said “oh, he’s just a sensitive one” and I almost flipped on her. Why the labels? Why the condescending tone? What’s wrong with it?
In any case, I understand, and struggle with it daily. Love the topics you chose to dive into Kristen.
Why the labels, indeed? Imagine where we would be if we could remove all labels and just relate…ahh, I feel another post brewing…
I was/am extremely sensitive and the worst thing I recall growing up was everyone always pointing out how sensitive I was and trying to harden me up. My parents were relentless with sarcasm and as much as I cried and told them I didn’t think they were funny, they thought I’d just “get used to it”. I grew up thinking that it was a terrible thing, being sensitive.
And being sensitive really is a great thing. Yes, we sensitive types get hurt easily, offended easily, read into things too much but we’re understanding, kind, empathetic and curious about what makes people tick.
the fact that you know this about your son and know that it’s what makes him HIM and appreciate the good and the bad, he’ll be FINE. He’s understood. And that is a wonderful thing.
You may be surprised to know that I was a tough as nails little girl.
I did not cry. I refused to cry. Even when things crashed around me I would only offer a peremptory sneer and continue like nothing happened. I was an emotional desert.
This was not good. I spent years in therapy to offset the negative effects of my emotion wreckage. It still kicks me in the butt.
So, when I read about your son’s sensitivities I think about the opposite extreme: me. While I was sweet and kind, I rarely had sympathy for myself.
I am surprised. Surprised and intrigued by the ways in which your childhood personality seems to have evolved. A powerful reminder that we are all, always, works in progress.
I wouldn’t say I was sensitive as a kid; I ‘d say I was constantly being picked on by many older sisters and so I wasn’t sensitive, I was accurate!
I’ve learned with my kids that it’s not one-size-fits-all parenting around here. Each kid almost needs a different mom, even though they’re stuck with me. They’re different and so I have to be on the ball and figure out what each needs, even if it leaves me a little out of sorts. Better me than them.
Was/Am so sensitive that a lot of times I felt like an open wound. I see shades of that in my older child, but she’s tougher and more resilient than I was. And I hope, as she grows, to encourage her to find the tools she needs so that she can feel deeply but not so much that she’s going to drown.
Does that make any sense at all?
Perfect sense. And that’s my goal exactly.
It has been a while since my first was as young as yours, but he sounds very similar. Sensory overload was crippling, especially noise, which caused nervous tics for a while. Sensitive skin, especially tags and uncomfortable clothes are still a problem as a teen. Each child is unique and there is so much to learn from watching them. Mine is an amazing mix of aspergers, central auditory processing disorder, visual spatial thinker, dyslexic, very smart but woefully unorganized. Needless to say, it has been quite a ride. He is currently a very confident, self-contained young man, who still can’t concentrate on reading if birds are chirping outside. (earplugs!) You are already on the right track because you love and see him and want to do what is best. There really is no easy answer. I was not able to push my son to toughen up, he does not respond to pushing and is very independent, always doing things his own way in his own time. The extreme emotional sensitivity and Captain America rule keeping have all but disappeared with time, I’m not sure how or why, as it was so gradual. He is a keen observer of everything to this day, can still hold a mean grudge and tends toward cynical, but that may be a teen thing. I’m in new territory here. I worried so much when he was little, wanting to protect him emotionally, because they have such deep thoughts and grow up too soon, and the best advice I can offer is to stay observant and know that sometimes, when they are at their worst, what they need most is to cuddle up with mom or dad and get a hug. I probably bought 30 books about parenting and learned quite a bit about what was happening with my child and practically nothing about what to do to help him, so I did what moms do best – go with your gut and just love them the best you can. BTW, I have a friend with sons who wear noise blocking headsets in noisy environments, ie Disney, to reduce the stress and allow them to experience fun without the overload. Good luck!
Thanks so much for your comment, Mel. I think this advice, especially, is universally powerful and true: “I did what moms do best – go with your gut and just love them the best you can.”
I am sensitive, my husband is sensitive (though I often forget that), and my son sounds just as sensitive as yours. He’s so sensitive that at a recent birthday party, he wouldn’t go on any of the moonbounces, because he didn’t want to have to navigate through the jungle of kids. (I can relate.) He cries sometimes for what seems like no reason; he scares himself by using his overactive imagination. While I find it frustrating, I also want to protect him from the harsh world. He is sweet and young and even, at 2 1/2, empathetic. I’d like to keep it that way, even if the kids around him are willing to fight and hurt others to get what they want. Maybe we need to be a little more encouraging toward the sensitive in our society instead of always expecting them to toughen up. Another question: are we more worried about boys being sensitive than girls?
Such an interesting question, Jana. As the mother of boys, I can’t say for sure, but I suspect that the answer is yes and that I need to consider whether or not my own reactions to Big Boy’s sensitivity are tied up with my internalized stereotypes about gender.
While I reflect on that some more, can we get our sensitive 2 1/2 year olds together for a play date? :)
Hi Kristen,
I just want to say I love this post. It’s so well written. Truely.
My oldest daughter is eight. She threw fits from a very young age and guess what? She still does.
What I’ve learned is that:
1) She will throw them, daily, hourly even
2) I may not be able to control her but I *can* control my own reaction to her.
I was a very immature parent in the beginning. I got angry with her regularly for her over-sensitivities. Finally, we learned some of her triggers and try and help her around/through them.
Kids need love and support. They are learning the world around them and in the storm of whatever they are experiencing, we need to try (and learn and relearn) how to be the center that holds for them.
Lots to think on here; great post!
This is advice that I need to remember – in the context of reacting to my son’s sensitivities, and in the contexts of parenting and life in general: “I may not be able to control her but I *can* control my own reaction to her.”
Thank you for adding these words to the discussion.
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