I have often been asked
the simple question: how is it that a lovely child could turn out to be so
strong-willed about food and weight.
We may have to go back to
the beginning and I am reprinting a Chapter from The Cockroach Catcher that may
give you some clue. There is no reference at all to Anorexia Nervosa!
Chapter 20 Don’t You Dare
© Am Ang Zhang 1998
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ominic was
a boy of nearly three from a rather well-off middle class family. He had an
older brother of five and a much older sister of nine. His father worked in the
City and earned good money to support their comfortable lifestyle. Mother was
often the only one that attended the
clinic with Dominic. Sometimes the older ones attended as well if the
appointment happened to be during school holidays.
I used to see many similar ones in my
sleep clinic and early handling
problem clinic. Wealth sometime detaches
one from the extended family and with modern education and so on, mother’s
advice becomes old wives’ tales. These young
mothers much prefer to see their friendly child psychiatrist who is believed to
be armed with the latest medical knowledge.
Dominic, like his siblings, was an
angelic and smart child. There was one small problem. Since mother’s rather
late failed attempt to train him, he had taken to tearing off his large nappy and poo’ing behind a sofa in one of their
grandest rooms – the one with the grand piano. He had refused to perform in the
Mickey Mouse pot and umpteen other Disney inspired ones. Nor would he use the
special attachment on the toilet seat or seats as there were four toilets he
could use. No, he preferred the spot
behind the sofa.
Mother was soft spoken and like many of
the mothers with sleep problem children too gentle –
too gentle in my book. Often these mothers tried to explain things to their
six-month olds. They never shouted at
their children. In fact they never shouted at anyone. Most were lucky to have a
nice older daughter and in her case a nice older daughter and an older
boy.
Knowing where the problem lies is often not the same as
knowing what the solution is. It is virtually impossible to try and teach such
parents to raise their voice. That would
be like teaching them to be violent to their own child. They have to work it
out for themselves.
You mean she became “violent”? My
junior would ask me.
Well, I told mother that it was really
not a psychiatric problem which of course was vaguely unbelievable to her. I
started telling her stories about other mothers with similar but not exactly
the same problem and how they managed to resolve things simply by becoming very
“firm”.
Very firm indeed!
“You mean you get them shouting?” My
junior would ask.
“I never had to. But it worked.”
“Invariably? So what happened?”
One day she turned up still in her
riding gear. She told me she was too excited to go home to change.
“What happened?”
“Well, as you know my cleaning lady had
great difficulty cleaning the yellow off the carpet. The different cleaning
fluids have not really done the carpet any good. My husband is having his colleagues from his
firm for a big Christmas do and so I have put in a new carpet. I have decided
that all I needed to do is to keep an eye on the little devil and catch him before
he could do any damage.”
“And?”
“You know he was so crafty. I had to pretend to be reading my magazine
but at roughly the right time I noticed he was edging towards the back of the
sofa. I waited a few seconds for him to get to his favourite spot. When he
tried to pull down his nappy, I did not know what got to me, I just saw red and shouted: don’t
you dare. Go to the toilet and do the
‘poo’ like everybody else.”
“As if by magic, he looked at me,
pulled his nappy up, went upstairs to his own
toilet, the one with Mickey, and did the job.” Mother was so proud. “He has
been doing the same since.”
We had one happy family again, with one
happy grateful mother who had not got a psychiatric problem child.
I often used her story to help other
mums.
FREE eBook: Just drop me a line with your email.
Email: cockroachcatcher (at) gmail (dot) com.
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