My Whac-A-Mole Life: Guest Post: Easy to Love but Hard to Raise   

Guest Post: Easy to Love but Hard to Raise

Editor's Note: When I was asked if I'd be interested in participating in a Book Blog Tour for Easy to Love but Hard to Raise, here's what zipped through my multi-tasking brain:
  • That is the most perfect book title. Do I get a free book?
  • Wow, they found me. And they think I have readers and influence. Hahahahahah
  • They can't make me like it. Will they want the free book back if I slam it? But with a title like that, I can't possibly NOT like it...
  • I think we're out of milk.
So, yes, not only did I get a free book, but they also are graciously allowing me to send one to you too! (Here's how you can win. Now, about that milk.) Even better, it turns out, I had nothing to worry about. I love this book just as much as the title. See, like many parents, when my children were first diagnosed with whatever, I scoured the Interwebs, the library and Amazon.com, pouring over every related title I could find. Next stage, I avoided every related title I could find. I finally understood why my husband wouldn't watch any formulaic, special needs, feel-good films with me: "I live this every day. I don't need to watch someone else living it too."

Thankfully, this book is more like a trip to Starbucks with friends. The stories are honest, diverse and - in many cases - mine. I expect I will return to these stories again and again, for inspiration, comfort and camaraderie. Similar to another favorite compilation of essays, The Elephant in the Playroom, this is a book I would give to any sister parent struggling with a new diagnosis (or lack thereof!). So welcome to my humble, little spot on the book blog tour. Coffee's on the house (but you'll have to brew it yourself).

For your reading pleasure, I am honored to share a post by Adrienne Bashista, co-editor of  Easy to Love but Hard to Raise, saluting all of us Accidental Whac-A-Mole Champions of the World.

Guest Post by Adrienne Ehlert Bashista

My sophomore year of college I shared an apartment with two friends, one of whom happened to be the accidental Whac-a-Mole champion of Canada in 1986.

I say accidental, because it went down like this: as a joke, he entered a Whac-a-Mole contest at his local fair…and won. He was invited to the provincial Whac-a-Mole contest…and won that, too. Then the Whac-a-Mole people paid to fly him and the other provincial winners to a central location where they competed…and he won that, too!

Before that initial contest he’d played Whac-a-Mole a couple times in his life, but it’s not as if he’d prepared for it, studied for it, or trained for it. Despite that, there he was, the national Whac-a-Mole champion of Canada. A Whac-a-Mole expert, one could say.

When I was invited to do a guest post for this blog, this memory of my roommate (who's now a very successful opthamologist in Seattle, by the way) was the first thing that popped in my mind.

I LOVE the name of this blog, because as the mother of a child with a neuro-behavioral disorder, I am well acquainted with dealing with one issue only to have another pop up, then another, then another, focusing all your time and energy on these issues only to be overcome by them in the end.

But in remembering my roommate’s situation I wanted to add to the metaphor: we’re not just Whac-a-Mole parents, us moms and dads of children whose brain-based special needs result in behavioral changes, we’re accidental Whac-a-Mole parents. Few of us studied this, trained for it, prepared for it, or wanted it, and yet – bam! Here we are. Experts in our children’s disorders. Avid researchers. Passionate advocates.

This theme – accidental expert – is something we found to ring true in pretty much all of the essays we collected for the book Kay Marner and I edited Easy to Love but Hard to Raise: Real Parents, Challenging Kids, True Stories. None of the 32 parents, myself included, who wrote essays for the book were handed a road map explaining their child’s neuro-diversity when that child came to them, and even after diagnosis (which often came after years of searching) few of them felt like they knew what direction to take. It’s a scary place to find yourself in. People are judgmental. Having a child with behavioral problems is confusing and isolating. It’s just you and your partner (if you’re lucky to have one who understands), mallet in hand, facing the Whac-a-Mole game that’s now your life. Alone and without a path, right? Wrong. 

For this is what we discovered in the process of putting the book together and through writing our blog and maintaining our Facebook page: you might feel alone, but you are not. There are millions of people parenting children with neuro-behavioral issues out there. And while their children may have a different diagnosis than yours – their OCD to your Autism, for example, or their FASD to your child’s anxiety and ADHD – the experiences and feelings of parenting are remarkably the same. And although your child’s doctor or treatment team or teachers or therapists may have good ideas about how to help your child, nothing, and I do mean nothing, beats the experiences of other parents who’ve already tried the therapies, behavior modification techniques, medicines, and alternative treatments.

I’ve found that, while my son’s pediatrician will check in with us for an hour once a year, other parents will spend hours sharing resources and experiences and giving help. And while the occupational therapist may suggest a new therapy – one which is not covered by insurance – other parents of children with neuro-atypicalities will give alternatives, make suggestions, and let me know whether or not they thought it was worth the cost. And when I go in to see my child’s psychiatrist, I no longer visit wondering what they can do to help my son with sleep issues, a constant state of fight-or-flight, or alternating moods, I go to my appointment equipped with research, articles, and suggestions for medication – all inspired by other people who are in the same boat as I am in.

These are not people who I know in real life, by the way. These are people who I’ve met through the Internet - which may not be the same as seeing friends and family every day, but in a lot of ways it’s better. The people I see every day do not have the same struggles that I do. They may think they understand, but they truly don’t. The good news is, however, that there are plenty of people who do.

So even though, as parents of special needs children, we find ourselves accidental experts, we’re in good company. There’s a huge community of accidental experts out there, and if you’re reading this, I’m betting you’re one, too.

Adrienne Ehlert Bashista is the co-editor of and a contributor to Easy to Love but Hard to Raise: Real Parents, Challenging Kids, True Stories. She also moderates the Facebook page for the book as well as the blog. She also (sporadically) maintains A Square Peg, A Round Hole, a blog about caring for a child with FASD (Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder), homeschooling, and life in general. The next book in the Easy to Love series is Easy to Love but Hard to Teach, about the issues children, parents, teachers, and other folks involved in learning face when trying to help neuro-diverse children learn. She lives in central North Carolina with her husband, two boys, chickens, dogs, and bees.

*Don't forget to enter our giveaway for this book RIGHT HERE. Here's some good news: If you're reading this, your odds of winning already are pretty good. Yay!


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