Friday – The Kid Shrink & The Cuffs
Jul. 3rd, 2009 12:02 pm.
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Every third session, my son's therapist likes to have both parents come in for a consultation. Yesterday morning was my son's third session with her, so I came in (since Jeff's days off work fall in the middle of the week, he is usually the one who takes our son in for any and all scheduled appointments). My office lets out early the day before a holiday, so I went ahead and took the whole day off.
The therapist, Ms. Bruce, is a kindly grandmotherly sort. She discussed my son's emotional immaturity with us (though his intellect is fine), and advised techniques to try to make him more independent. She told us that she's noticed he's improved in the 3 sessions she's seen him (I didn't want to suggest that this was probably due in part to his being used to her and knowing what was expected of him).
As she spoke, my son approached her from the side of the room with the toys in it (she specializes in "play therapy" with children) holding a pair of handcuffs.
She turned to my son and asked, "Can you tell me what those are?" I didn't think he would know, since I limit the shows and movies he watches to the kinds of things where no one is generally hauled away in handcuffs. He didn't answer her, but experimented with the mechanics of the cuffs, pushing one of the metal cuffs through itself over and over again. "Who do you see who has those?" Ms. Bruce asked.
"I don't know," my son said.
"Do policemen have them?"
He hasn't ever seen a police officer close up. The ones in his cartoons are the helpful give-you-directions kind of cops, not the drag-your-drunk-daddy-jail kind of cops, so he hasn't seen how these things work. He looked at my husband and me, and we nodded.
"Yes?" he answered.
"That's right, police have them." As my son continued to study the mechanism (he has the DNA of both engineers and mechanics in his make up), Ms. Bruce smiled at us and said, "Some of the kids really love those things. Especially the foster kids I see."
"Really?" we asked.
"Oh, yes. They like cuffing the toys, or cuffing me to my chair. Particularly the ones who have real domineering foster parents. It makes them feel like they're in control of something and they love that, because they have so little control of anything.
I looked at the large, child-sized teddy bear in the corner of the room. "So, they handcuff the teddy bear?"
"Oh, they handcuff everything. The bear, other toys, me, each other. They really get a kick out of them."
"That's really interesting," Jeff said.
"You can get them at the dollar store, if you want to give him a pair."
"Uhm, okay. Thanks for the tip."
I'm still not sure what I'm going to do with a tip like that, but thanking her seemed like the polite thing to do. To tell the truth, I already knew you can pick up a pair of novelty handcuffs up for cheap. Somewhere in my house, I'm pretty sure I already have a pair, but Sweet Pea can't have them.
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.
.
Every third session, my son's therapist likes to have both parents come in for a consultation. Yesterday morning was my son's third session with her, so I came in (since Jeff's days off work fall in the middle of the week, he is usually the one who takes our son in for any and all scheduled appointments). My office lets out early the day before a holiday, so I went ahead and took the whole day off.
The therapist, Ms. Bruce, is a kindly grandmotherly sort. She discussed my son's emotional immaturity with us (though his intellect is fine), and advised techniques to try to make him more independent. She told us that she's noticed he's improved in the 3 sessions she's seen him (I didn't want to suggest that this was probably due in part to his being used to her and knowing what was expected of him).
As she spoke, my son approached her from the side of the room with the toys in it (she specializes in "play therapy" with children) holding a pair of handcuffs.
She turned to my son and asked, "Can you tell me what those are?" I didn't think he would know, since I limit the shows and movies he watches to the kinds of things where no one is generally hauled away in handcuffs. He didn't answer her, but experimented with the mechanics of the cuffs, pushing one of the metal cuffs through itself over and over again. "Who do you see who has those?" Ms. Bruce asked.
"I don't know," my son said.
"Do policemen have them?"
He hasn't ever seen a police officer close up. The ones in his cartoons are the helpful give-you-directions kind of cops, not the drag-your-drunk-daddy-jail kind of cops, so he hasn't seen how these things work. He looked at my husband and me, and we nodded.
"Yes?" he answered.
"That's right, police have them." As my son continued to study the mechanism (he has the DNA of both engineers and mechanics in his make up), Ms. Bruce smiled at us and said, "Some of the kids really love those things. Especially the foster kids I see."
"Really?" we asked.
"Oh, yes. They like cuffing the toys, or cuffing me to my chair. Particularly the ones who have real domineering foster parents. It makes them feel like they're in control of something and they love that, because they have so little control of anything.
I looked at the large, child-sized teddy bear in the corner of the room. "So, they handcuff the teddy bear?"
"Oh, they handcuff everything. The bear, other toys, me, each other. They really get a kick out of them."
"That's really interesting," Jeff said.
"You can get them at the dollar store, if you want to give him a pair."
"Uhm, okay. Thanks for the tip."
I'm still not sure what I'm going to do with a tip like that, but thanking her seemed like the polite thing to do. To tell the truth, I already knew you can pick up a pair of novelty handcuffs up for cheap. Somewhere in my house, I'm pretty sure I already have a pair, but Sweet Pea can't have them.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-04 01:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-03 05:53 pm (UTC)And good for you not letting Sweet Pea watch police procedurals. Too many parents let their children watch the worst sort of crap.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-04 01:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-03 06:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-04 01:56 am (UTC)My theory is that no one becomes a counselor/therapist/shrink unless they themselves are crazy. Every person who has ever decided to major in psychology did so because they were trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with them, personally. I know; for a brief period, I, too, was a psych major.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-03 06:21 pm (UTC)She sounds sick.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-03 06:54 pm (UTC)And, when I think about it, kind of sad. I feel for the foster kids who need to feel that kind of control over a teddy bear.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-03 09:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-04 01:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-04 12:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-05 05:48 pm (UTC)Handcuffing people is not what I would consider "positive play" but, like you, I'm not a licensed therapist. I am, however, smart enough to know when to ignore the advice of a so-called "expert."
no subject
Date: 2009-07-07 09:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-06 12:52 pm (UTC)And I don't blame you for wanting to share those you may already have. :P
no subject
Date: 2009-07-07 01:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-07 12:52 pm (UTC)