I think we have a mythology around creativity that is very destructive. We tend to believe that only a few people are genuinely creative, that they are born knowing they are creative and that they go through life with that creative spark undimmed.

We need a new mythology around creativity, one that says we are all creative, we all have a divine spark within us, we all have the capacity to tap into our originality, and we all have gifts whether we recognize them or not.

I think that when we say we're bored, what we're doing is actually a manipulation. We are saying, "Fix it for me." If you resist the impulse to meddle and instead say to your child, "I'm sure you can figure out what you want to do next," then it imparts to the child a belief in their own resiliency and their own originality. 

If you suggest that together you spend an hour without any screens, and you put your own phone aside and don't go near your computer, then you find yourself coming up with new ideas. 

In my book, The Artist's Way for Parents, I gave the example of an editor who felt he had no time to read his favorite classics, because he was so busy being a parent. He loved reading, so I suggested he read for 15 minutes a day. He said he didn't have 15 minutes, so I asked him to just try. 

He tried reading a book that he loved, Moby Dick, and his son noticed he was reading and asked him about it. They began to have a conversation about the book. About a week later, he found his son sitting in his reading chair with a book. When the father asked about the book, the son said, "Oh, Dad, it's another book about a whale: Pinocchio!"

Children learn from what they see us doing. They learn when they see us valuing ourselves.

When can you set aside 15 minutes of today for something you love to do? What is something that both you and your child enjoy doing?

#normalizenurturing 

(Editor's note: This is an excerpt from an interview with the author; read the original article in its entirety here.)

Our job as parents is to appreciate the process that our children go through rather than trying to correct it into a more rigid form. For example, if you have a child who draws a green pony, you say, "Oh, a green pony! That's wonderful," instead of telling the child that ponies aren't green.

Perfectionism is probably the biggest creativity block I run across. When we speak of perfection, we actually are reaching for an unattainable goal, because as human beings, we aren't perfect. If we look to perfection to judge our work by, we will always fall short, so it's very important to model that it's OK to be imperfect and that there are such things as rough drafts. 

For children to realize that practicing imperfection over and over again is moving a little bit at a time toward an ideal, is a much kinder way to go than demanding that the first job or the first attempt be perfect. That can stop a child's or anyone's creativity in its tracks.

What is one thing you do well in how you are raising your child? How can you reframe your goals to be able to celebrate your mini-milestones?

#normalizenurturing

(Editor's note: This is an excerpt from an interview with the author; read the original article in its entirety here.)

Jackie informed me yesterday that, when she has her own children, she will never tell them "no." Never. I smiled and wished her luck with that. Today, after coming home from school, she informed me that she thinks she might sometimes need to tell them "no." Sometimes.

Jackie is a healthy, mostly happy 11-year-old child with special needs. What makes her unique is that she has pervasive developmental disorder. While this may look different in every child, for Jackie it means that she has some autistic features mixed with a possible mood disorder, though some days I wonder if her mood swings are more related to her approaching "coming of age." (I do not believe there can be anything more emotional than impending menstrual cycles for a young pre-teen. Sigh. When did I become the mother of a pre-teen?)

Over the years, I have learned how to be more responsive and more intuitive to Jackie's needs. My husband and I can often sense what she needs from us and her environment, which is key to our preventing meltdowns and struggles.

We also feel strongly that we help her by having a support system for ourselves. We rely on a support team of family, friends, and people from the school system who work with Jackie. Sometimes we need respite care, an extra set of hands, or a parents' night out. 

Our sitters are well trained to work with children like Jackie, and all of our kids look forward to the special playtime. We enjoy coming home relaxed and rejuvenated, knowing we are in a better place to cope with any challenges that might arise.

One of the hardest challenges with raising a special needs child is trying to keep people, including us as her parents, from attempting to force her into being a "typical" child. Jackie is different. She will always be different, and I celebrate that difference.

That said, it's not all roses. There are some thorns. We have struggled with defining what Jackie needs in her school environment. We have also struggled with therapists and psychiatrists who have tired a one-size-fits-all approach to Jackie's challenges, including the use of medication.

We resisted using any medications for a long time, despite the pressure to do so. When we had our fourth child, things really bottomed out for Jackie. She was in such emotional pain. We decided it was unfair to not at least investigate medications. We started out with high hopes.

We tried half a dozen medications over the course of 18 months. I know some children receive relief from medication, but Jackie never did. In fact, they had a negative effect on her. She seemed even worse. It was heartbreaking. We ended the trial and weaned her off all medication.

Jackie hit a new low while weaning from the medications. After a month, she seemed herself again. She become more in control of her emotions and behaviors, and her humor returned. I hadn't quite realized how much I had missed that. She seemed settled. I cannot quite explain it, but she just seemed more like the daughter that we knew and loved, quirks and all.

It's been about six months since she quit the medication trial. Jackie continues to improve. She takes two steps forward, one step back. (Sometimes it's more like two steps forward, three steps back.) She was recently able to transition from the special needs school bus to the regular school bus, which was an important milestone for her. Jackie continues to improve, even though the path is never a straight line but one step at a time.

No matter how much we attempt to prepare her to be confident, as she gets older, there will always be the pull to be more like the "typical" children. She will always want to be "normal." We embrace Jackie as she is. We have taught all of our children that each person is unique, and we encourage them to be accepting of others, even those who face challenges that may make them difficult to deal with.

How do you allow your child to be different? How do you allow yourself to be different from other parents?

#normalizenurturing