Protein-Powered Parenting
I spent the holiday weekend gorging on Kathleen DesMaisons’ book Little Sugar Addicts and have so many thoughts and connections spinning in my brain that I hardly know where to start.
So I’ll back up one post to make a little confession: Last time I blogged, I hadn’t yet gotten my hands on a copy of the book. I’d looked at DesMaisons’ website for parents of sugar-sensitive kids and seen that the first step in her healing program is breakfast — just breakfast. Specifically, make sure everyone in the family eats a breakfast that includes protein within an hour of waking up. Every morning, without fail.
I thought, “Well, what could it hurt to take the sugar out of the day at the same time, anyway?” So I snuck chocolate when the Dragon was at daycare instead of in the next room, where he’d smell it and come running. Even still, when he came home and found my little empty bowl, he picked it up and said, “Mama, what was in here?” I said, “Almonds,” as nonchalantly as I could. It was true, technically: I like almonds and chocolate chips together, and that’s how I usually have them. But he eyed me suspiciously.
You can’t fool a three-year-old.
The book reminded me of two things I’d forgotten in the frenzy of parenting a young child.
First, five years ago, when I started addressing my own alcohol addiction, I had to find other ways to get the same effect — comfort, confidence — in non-alcoholic ways before I felt I could let go of the bottle. I likened it to a blanket: You don’t just rip a blanket off a shivering person and expect them to be warm. You find a jacket for them first. So we couldn’t just take sugar away from the Dragon and expect everything to be okay.
Luckily, we don’t keep a lot of refined sugar in the house anyway — at least not outside of the cannisters — so we had options to offer that were less sweet but still satisfying at this point. A spoonful of honey in his yogurt, a white-flour bagel for his sunflower butter. (In our defense, we’ve always done whole wheat bread products; this week, the store was out so we went for the white.) The Dragon doesn’t ask for more food after he eats these, the way he does after he gets his hands on the Holy Grail of Refined Sugar.
The second thing I remembered when reading Little Sugar Addicts came directly from my training as a psychotherapist: You cannot work effectively with a child unless you have the parent(s) on board. Children’s problems are family systems problems. So if I wanted this to work, I quickly realized, I had to jump on board as well — and fast. And needed to get Alan there, too.
DesMaisons also advises going slooooooow. There are seven steps in her plan, and she recommends implementing the steps one at a time, over six to 18 months total. She also notes that sugar-sensitive people tend to want to rush in and do things all at once. I had to laugh to myself when I read it: Sure enough, that’s what I’d started to do. So we pulled back.
Breakfast first.
But then the most amazing thing happened.
The Dragon started asking for healthier food throughout the day: Pears and cheese, nuts and grapes, a chicken nugget. He actually asked for these things. What’s even more startling is that I haven’t heard more than one request for a cookie in over a week. It’s like his body knew what it needed, if only it could get his brain and mine to pay attention.
Monday — Labor Day — was the Dragon’s birthday, and we started it with a healthy breakfast made to each of our likings. The grownups also had their coffee (addressing that addiction will come later!) and the Dragon asked for chocolate milk.
DesMaisons says to go slow and forgive yourself, so we gave the child his chocolate milk.
And then, a couple hours later, when it was time to go to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, there was very little fussing and whining. We all just got in the car and left. This is a minor miracle in our house.
I usually bring crackers or fruit to snack on in the car; this time I threw in a little protein source, too. (Improving snack choices is Step 3 in Little Sugar Addicts so I didn’t want to be too gung-ho, but since the child has been asking for healthier foods, I thought I’d try to oblige.) When both the Dragon and I got cranky in the car, I knew it was time for a snack. We popped a few nuts and apple slices and went peacefully on our way. No kicking, no crying — from either of us. And no headache for me: That’s new.
The whole day was like this: As soon as I saw him get glassy-eyed or start to whine, I fueled him up with a healthy snack. He ate happily and promptly, and told me when he was done. No fussing, no whining, no tantrums. And — critically important — I did the same thing for myself. He ate a little slice of his birthday cake but didn’t ask for another; soon he was back out in the yard playing with his new toys. His parents and grandparents all joined in the fun, and his laughter was contagious. He took a little catnap in the car on the way home.
And when he awoke, another little miracle: The Dragon spent two hours absorbed in playing with his new Tinker Toys with his dad. I have never, ever seen him focus on one task for so long, and so happily. There was no frustration or upset; no requests for TV; just enjoyment and togetherness.
And when it was time to go to the concert in the park to finish off a big day, he was a little sad to leave their new creation. But he got over it quickly and fully enjoyed dancing and clapping to the music and eating strawberries and chicken nuggets. But, truth be told, more strawberries than anything.
Now lest you think it’s all Pollyanna around here now, we still had trouble with the departure from the park and especially with bedtime — as per usual. But I was much better proteined all day long, and what a huge difference that made in my ability to cope with the Dragon’s sleep sensitivity. I could enforce the rules better, I could minimize the intensity of my responses to him, I could bring myself to soothe and tolerate his difficulties. And when he was finally asleep, I still had energy to read and relax.
I was a better mom yesterday. And it was one of the best family days we’ve ever had.
I blame it on protein.
Photo credits: Cold, Yogurt and fruit
