Category Archives: gentle parenting

October 20, 2021 · 5:43 PM

Why I Allow My Teens Phone Freedom

Photo by **Brett Sayles** from **Pexels**

At the time of this writing, my kids are 13, 17, 21 and 24.

(Give me a minute while I stop and digest that. Whew. Okay.)

The 21 and 24 year olds are adults – and one of them is married – so while I would absolutely have a conversation if a situation arose, or if they asked for help in some way, my involvement is different from that of their siblings. And as adults, their decisions are their own.

As for the teens, the general narrative that I’m hearing lately tells me that I should be limiting their access, disallowing things like TikTok, checking their messages, and essentially living in fear that the big, bad, boogeyman of the internet at large is going to swoop them up, right under my nose.

But I’m not afraid.

And don’t get me wrong. I have a healthy amount of respect and caution for all things internet and social media related. Yes, they can be misused. Yes, they can hold dangers. Yes, they can be harmful.

Here’s the thing though. I have much more confidence in keeping my kids safe if I’m helping them navigate these things, rather than forbidding and/or controlling them. Why? Because forbidding them is going to ensure that they won’t talk to me about it in the future. It makes it more likely for them to feel like they need to hide things from me. It makes it more likely for them to seek out those activities in private (at school, at friends’ houses, on a secret phone…) without any guidance or input at all. Instead of encouraging conversation, it halts it. If I give them a blanket statement about it being “unsafe”, it will inevitably lead to distrust when they eventually learn that the internet and social media can be wonderful tools that help keep us engaged, informed, entertained, and connected.

I don’t remember how old any of my kids were when they got their own phones, as we didn’t wait for any specific age. Rather we waited for them to express an interest, to show that they were ready, and to demonstrate that they had the maturity and skill set to use it safely.

That does NOT mean – and I feel it’s super important that I say this expressly and clearly – that they were handed phones, told “have fun”, and then left alone. On the contrary, we were extremely involved, right from the start. We became their friends on Facebook, we followed them on Instagram. We talked. And we talked, and we talked, and we talked some more. We kept an open line of communication, so that when bobbles happened (and there have been a couple) they’d know that they could come to us, and we could help them work through them safely and effectively. They know they can come to us about anything, and that we will listen to them, without judgment, and without condemnation.

The best part? The transparency means I get to be invited into their world. I get to hear about the friends they’re talking to, the things they’re watching on YouTube, their favorite TikTokers, the games they’re playing. I get to be there. As I write, my 13 year old sits beside me, scrolling through TikTok and occasionally pausing one to share it with me. She always shares the things she posts too (and she is hysterical), and I pride myself on being the first one to like them. At 17, her brother isn’t quite as forthcoming as she is, but I still don’t worry. The conversations are still open and honest, and sharing comes easily. Just this morning he shared something personal that he absolutely didn’t have to share, and I knew – and deeply appreciated – that he still considered me a safe person.

You can’t keep your kids in bubble wrap. You can’t keep them from all potential harm. What you can do is walk through life beside them, with trust, respect, and communication, with the hope and the confidence that when it’s time for them to fly alone, you’ll both be ready.

Your Kids Don’t Owe You Anything

“As long as you’re living under my roof, you’ll live by my rules.”

This sort of admonition, and others like it, operate on the same basic – and faulty – principle. Our kids live in our house. They follow our rules. They exist to be at our beck and call. They have to show us, indeed they owe us, obedience. Gratitude. Respect. They owe us for all the years we put into raising them. They owe us for giving them a warm place to sleep. They owe us for feeding them, for bathing them, for doing their laundry, for buying their clothes and their toys and their electronics.

If that’s something that resonates with you, you’re not alone. Society in general tends to favor this sort of top-down parenting approach: 1) Parents do the work and make the rules. 2) Kids owe it to their parents be quiet and compliant. They should be GRATEFUL.

But you’re wrong.

Our kids did not ask to be here. Let’s just start there. Kids are here because we decided to bring them into our world. In a very real sense, they are our invited guests. Do our guests owe us anything? I’ll get back to that.

Our literal job as parents is to take care of our kids. It’s our job to meet their needs, no matter what they may be. We see to it that their physical, mental, and emotional requirements are all attended to. We do our best to make sure that they have a safe place to sleep, good food to eat, and clothes to wear on their backs. We drive them where they need to be, we help them with their homework, we cheer for them at their soccer games. We celebrate them on their birthdays. We comfort them when they’re sick, we soothe them when they’re heartbroken, we listen when they need an ear. We play with them, we make memories with them. We try to give them happy experiences, whether it’s through family camping weekends, trips to the beach, or game night around the dinner table. We try to make their lives easier, and happier, and more comfortable.

And we do it all because we’re parents. Because that’s the job. Because we decided to have children. Because we invited these people into our lives.

When we invite people into our homes, do we expect them to owe us anything? Of course not. We try to make their stay as nice as possible. We are hospitable. We are kind. We are patient.

You may argue that it’s not the same. That our kids aren’t really visitors. That they are our children, little people that we are trying to prepare for the world. Fair enough. But wouldn’t that be MORE reason to treat them with unconditional kindness, not less? We are trying to show our children how to treat people, how to interact with the world, and how to respect themselves and others. Is approaching parenting with a sense of entitlement really the best way to accomplish that?

Want your kids to respect you? Start by respecting them first. Want your kids to have a grateful heart? Start by showing them what that looks like. Want your kids to listen to you? Start by listening to them. Start by treating them like people. Start by focusing on the relationship, not the rules.

Most of all, stop putting the onus on your kids to pay you back in some way for the privilege of being parented.

Your kids owe you nothing.

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June 24, 2021 · 2:58 PM

Hold Them a Little Longer

Last night, I had a dream.

I dreamt I had a three year old again. It wasn’t one of my real-life children, but an alternate-reality, Dream Child. I knew in the dream that he was three, and I was feeling sad because his 3T Spiderman pajamas were getting too small. We were getting ready for bed, and he was carrying a naked baby doll in one hand, and a truck in the other.

I woke up, and it took me a hot second to realize that I didn’t in fact have a three year old, but a 24 year old who is a bonafide grown-up, a 20 year old who recently became a husband, a 17 year old who’s on the cusp of adulthood, and the baby, a 13 year old who is more self-possessed than I was at 25.

And my heart ached.

It’s exhausting having littles. I remember the sleepless nights, the teething, the being used as a human pacifier, the diapers, the sippy cups, the big emotions, the hunt for the missing shoes, the taking 16 hours to get out the door. Some days felt like they would go on forever.

But all the cliches, about it going by in the blink of an eye? I’m here to tell you that they’re true. One day you’ll be knee deep in Dora and Disney, and the next you’ll wake up from a dream of a three year old, and be hit with a painful nostalgia so acute it will take your breath away.

I have no more young ones. My kids are nearly grown (and to be clear, I’m thoroughly enjoying this time with them!), and the baby and toddler years are firmly behind me. But if you’re reading this and your kids are still little, I beg of you:

Hold them a little longer.

Read them another book.

Let them stay 5 more minutes in the bath.

Say yes.

Don’t sweat the small stuff.

It goes by so fast. So fast. So fast. There are tiring and frustrating moments to be sure, but the good moments? The precious moments? The sticky fingers in your hand, the tiny voice, the nursery rhymes and the bedtime stories? Cherish them.

There will come a time… in five years, or ten, or twenty… that you’ll look back and desperately miss them.

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January 8, 2021 · 1:48 PM

An Open Letter to Bean Dad

In case you’re lucky enough to be blissfully unaware: This past week a dad went viral on Twitter for telling a very lengthy, 20+ tweet story about his hungry nine-year-old daughter. She wanted a snack, and he suggested she open a can of beans. She didn’t know how to work the can opener, and despite her asking him for assistance, dad helpfully suggested she figure it out on her own. He documented her entire struggle on Twitter, and SIX HOURS LATER, she’d figured out the tool and she had her beans. Multiple people asked me for my take on the matter, so here it is…. my unfiltered response to Bean Dad.

Dear Bean Dad,

We have something in common. I figured I’d start there because there’s so very little that qualifies, and it only made sense to start off on common ground. There’s actually two things we have in common, but I’ll get to the second one a little bit later.

We both know that sometimes lessons are best learned on our own, even if it involves some frustration. I think of my now twenty year learning to ride a bike. Unlike my oldest, who took the more cautious scooching approach, he was bound and determined to ride the “right” way, all in one day, all at once. He fell. He got back on. He got frustrated. He got back on. He got mad. He got back on. We encouraged him in his efforts and also let him know it was okay to take a break if he needed one. But he was determined. It was truly something to witness, and do you know? By the end of the day, he was riding, all on his own.

The difference between my son and your daughter though is that she asked you for your help. Right from the very beginning.

She asked you (politely, I might add) to open the can for her. That would have been your moment to either 1) open the can, or 2) show her how the can opener worked and let her open it herself. But you chose to look at it as a Teaching Moment instead, and essentially leave her to her own devices. That’s where you lost me.

After awhile of trying, she “collapsed in a frustrated heap.” You watched your (hungry) daughter collapse in a frustrated heap, you knew what the problem was, and you still refused to step in. This would have been a perfect time to say, “You’ve almost got it. You just need to clamp it on, like this.” But you didn’t. You let it go on. And on.

Once tears appear, you’ve lost your teachable moment. She was exhausted, she was hungry, she was dealing with “anger-management” issues, and she was in tears. Again, a good time to step in. At this point, I’m a little confused at what lesson she is supposed to be learning. Because all I’m seeing is that dad won’t help her, no matter how much she’s struggling.

SIX HOURS. I find it interesting that you use the word, “us” here. The kachunk of puncturing the lid was not eluding you. It was eluding her, and her alone. It had been eluding her for six hours. And yes, as you detailed in the next several tweets, she did eventually get it, and she had her beans. But… at what cost? What did she actually learn? Sure, she learned how to use the can opener, but she also learned that:

A most basic need (hunger) was less important than learning a lesson.

That Dad wouldn’t help her, no matter how frustrated she got.

That she couldn’t ask for assistance when doing something hard.

That it’s okay to be amused and entertained by someone else’s struggle.

Now, I saw that you apologized – sort of. You said that the story had been poorly written satire, that you both actually spent a lot of time laughing, that it was a positive moment, not a negative one. I’m sorry, but none of that changes the fact that your daughter asked you for your help, and instead of giving it to her you let her struggle, hungry, for six hours, all while splashing it about on the internet as though it were entertainment.

But I’m not alone in my assessment. In fact, you got so much backlash that you eventually deleted your Twitter account altogether. I can relate to that, as deleting is my first instinct too. But I’ve learned (or am currently learning – it’s a process) that there is something to be said for standing in the bed you made, and facing the music as it were. Yes, there were people being hateful, name-calling and shaming. But there were also people telling you, parent-to-parent, that you made a mistake. Telling you that there were other ways. Telling you that could have done things differently. Those are the people you could have listened to. Those are the people you could have learned from.

I hope that your time away from Twitter is a positive step for you, truly. I hope that you spend some time in self-reflection. I hope that you do eventually realize that the situation with your daughter could have unfolded much differently. And much more peacefully.

Mostly though, I hope that the next time your daughter comes to you and asks you for your help, that you stop what you’re doing and help her.

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October 17, 2020 · 3:59 PM

Making Home Life As Sweet As Possible

I don’t spend a lot of time where traditional parents gather. Not in 3-D life, not on websites, not on Facebook groups. I have very little in common with those parents, and to be completely honest the advice that tends to be held in the highest regard makes me… sad. It just makes me really, really sad.

The other day I was on a Facebook group (devoted to something else entirely), and someone came on looking for parenting advice, specifically punishment advice. Their child had committed some sort of infraction, and they’d tried the typical grounding, taking away electronics, and giving more chores. One commenter commended their efforts so far, and said:

“Make their home life as miserable as possible.”

That comment sort of stopped me in my tracks.

I realize that my parenting philosophy ventures far from the norm, but that particular piece of advice hit me so strongly it gave me a visceral reaction. Make their home life as miserable as possible. Is this where we are as a society? Is this how we solve problems?

Because I have spent the the past 23.5 years trying to do the exact opposite.

Home should be the safe place, not the miserable place. Let me just start there. Home should be the soft spot to fall, the place where if you do mess up (and you will, because you’re human), you’re met with understanding, kindness, and compassion. The place where you’re treated with respect, where you’re heard, where you’re accepted… mistakes and all.

I’ve said it dozens – if not hundreds – of times on this blog, but behavior doesn’t exist in a vacuum. If someone is doing something unkind, unsafe, or generally out of character, there is a reason for it. Making life miserable will not only not fix the problem, but will likely make it worse. If you were angry and yelled at your spouse, would you find it helpful if the rest of the family conspired to make your life more difficult? If they took away all your favorite things, if they banished you to your room? Would you be more or less likely to want to continue yelling?

Kids are people, too. Compassionately addressing the root cause of whatever’s going on will be the first step in problem solving, and will preserve the integrity of your relationship – the most integral part of good and effective parenting.

One of my main goals as a parent is to have a close, kind, and mutually respectful relationship with my kids. As such, I want good things for them. And that starts with making their home life happy, not miserable. Is there any other relationship in life (work, school, church, wherever it may be) that would be helped by purposely making things miserable for the other person? Why should our kids be any different?

Home is supposed to feel like, well, home. The place you can fully relax. The place you can be yourself. The place you can confidently try new things. And yes, the place you can make mistakes. No home, just like no family, is perfect. We all have our warts, we all have our shortcomings.

But shouldn’t the goal be more joy, not less? Shouldn’t we want to make things sweeter for our kids, not more bitter? Shouldn’t we strive to make our interactions with our kids (regardless of what sort of behavior might have precipitated said interaction) a little more patient? A little more compassionate? A little more kind?

I think making home life miserable is a straight-up terrible idea, for everyone involved. Not only is it a terrible idea, it’s an ineffective one. If home life is miserable, it will only force your kids to turn outward for the support they’re not getting at home. I don’t know about you, but I want my kids to come towards me when they’re having a problem, not turn away.

Like the meme so aptly says:

It starts with us. It starts at home.

It starts with a home that strives to be safe and sweet and kind and sparkly. It starts with us as parents showing our kids what it means to be respectful, and what it means to be responsible for our actions. It starts with parents who “walk the walk”, instead of demanding blind obedience. It starts with you and I, taking our kids by the hand, and telling them through our words and our actions, “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”

It should never, ever start with miserable.

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May 8, 2020 · 2:18 PM

Teens, Tantrums, and Stereotypes

Watch this first.

There is a video going around Facebook, basically making fun of middle schoolers.

Maybe you saw it. Maybe it made you laugh. I concede that parts of it made me laugh, because the guy who made it is funny. But I couldn’t finish it.

A few things, off the bat:

Are middle schoolers/adolescents/teens sometimes…. salty? Yes. Hormones do wacky things.

Are grown ups sometimes salty? Yes. Life does wacky things.

The difference is (and no, this isn’t the first time I’ve mentioned this, and I’m sure it won’t be the last) we don’t make videos mocking adults for their less than stellar moments. This is childism, plain and simple. To believe this video is to believe that middle schoolers are always sullen, and angry, and irritable, and uncooperative.

Are they those things sometimes? Again, YES! I have four children, three of whom are well past puberty, and one who is thick in its throes. Have there been difficult days? Yes. Have there been frustrating days? Yes. Have there been days where I’ve felt I needed to walk on eggshells a little bit? Yes.

But here’s the thing.

Videos like this play into the stereo-typically “bad” parts of adolescence, and there is so. much. good! Truly.

Kids this age are funny. They’re intelligent. They’re creative. They’re masterfully growing into their own unique skin. If we’re having trouble seeing that – and I say this as gently as I know how – maybe that’s an “us” problem, and not a “them” problem. Maybe we’re seeing what we want to see. Or what we think we should see. Or what society tells us to see.

Not too long ago, someone asked on Facebook how his fellow parents of teens were doing. I commented (like I always do when the subject comes up) that I adore having teens. Because I really do. His response? “Seriously???” What upset me about his answer was not the fact that he was having a different experience (because yes, absolutely, all dynamics and relationships are different, even within the same family) but the fact that he was so surprised that it could even be a possibility.

The common parenting trope tells us that teens are difficult. Rebellious. Disrespectful. Self-centered. But why? Why do we feel the need to believe it?

Because posts, articles, and videos like this one present it as truth.

BUT IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE THAT WAY.

We can choose to see the good in our kids. We can choose connection over animosity. We can choose compassion over control. We can be the adults, and recognize that these young people are going through huge and confusing life changes, and that they deserve grace. Heaps of it.

What they don’t need? To be made fun of on social media.

I’m Not Afraid To Be A Kind Mom

I just saw an article come through my Facebook newsfeed with the title, “I’m Not Afraid To Be A ‘Mean Mom’, Because I Don’t Want To Raise A**holes.” Now, you might very well be thinking, “Haven’t you written about this before?” Yes, yes I have. “Do you really need to write about it again?” Yes, I really do. “Every time?” Yes, every time. Here’s why: the official parenting party line continues to celebrate meanness. It pats itself on the back over the fallacy that harshness begets well-behaved children (whatever “well-behaved” means.) It prides itself on “being the parent, not the friend.” And every time – Every. Time. – that message is put out into the world, it deserves to have a counterpoint. It deserves to have another voice, a voice that chooses kindness over meanness, connection over control, compassion over shame. Quite simply, people need to know, deserve to know, that there is another way… a kinder, gentler, more respectful way… to raise kids.

The article in question really just makes three main points, but they all need to be addressed. Dismantling what we believe and why we believe it is important, and it pushes us to be better parents. It’s easy to follow the status quo and be mean to our kids, but if we want a good relationship with our kids… if we want kids who are confident and capable and compassionate… if we want kids who are in turn kind to their kids… we need to do better.

1) Being mean is necessary. The author mentions several times that being mean is simply par for the course, an inevitable part of being a good mom. Sometimes it’s just a responsibility that one must accept if they’re to be a parent.

But being mean is not necessary. Let me start there. Much ado is made of the fact that in order for kids to learn to pick up after themselves, to help around the house, or to take care of basic hygiene, that there needs to be meanness on the part of the parent. According to this mom, being mean is necessary to prevent her kids from becoming Neanderthals, or “feral heathens.” Four kids and 23 years tells me otherwise. Children, like all people, respond best when they’re treated with kindness and respect, when they’re given genuine choice and control over their lives, and when they’re treated like people. Far too often, parents feel that children need to be trained as if they are dogs. But they are fellow humans, and they deserve to be treated as such.

As for chores and helping out around the house, there seems to be an either/or mentality that states that either mom needs to rule with an iron fist to get anyone to do what she asks, OR mom needs to be a martyr, gets walked all over, and does everything herself. But there’s a happy third option in which we work in partnership with our kids, a place where there’s mutual respect, a place where we can ask instead of demand. If you had a roommate who had a persistent habit of leaving his dirty socks on the couch, would you be mean to him in order to solve the problem? No. You’d have a respectful conversation. Shouldn’t our children, these young people still figuring out how the world works, be given the same consideration? At the time of this writing, my second oldest is 19. He recently started working a full-time job, and has to wear a uniform shirt. I do laundry on Friday, and I told him I’d be happy to wash any shirts that he’s put in the hamper. But he needs them done more often than that, so he runs his own load mid-week, without my ever having had to be mean about it. (He also sets his own alarm, gets himself showered, and gets to work on time, despite my never having been mean about any of that either)

2) Her kids are pretty perpetually mad at her. She says her kids are pissed off at her “on the regular,” and that there is whining and complaining and crying. Color me confused. For real. Is there any other relationship in your life where pissing people off is your barometer for success? If you were constantly pissing your friends off, or your spouse, or your co-workers, you would (one would hope) think about why it’s occurring and what adjustments need to be made. Why, if it’s your kids, would it suddenly be something to pat yourself on the back about? If your kids are constantly mad at you, something is wrong. Yes, we’re all human. Yes, people get mad sometimes. But if you’re deliberately causing anger, that’s something that needs to be addressed. It is not a sign of good parenting, and it’s certainly not a sign of a good relationship.

I look at it this way: Sometimes, as parents, we’re going to have to make decisions that will make our kids angry, especially when it comes to matters of safety. (I’m thinking of the toddler that REALLY wants to stick the paper clip in the electrical outlet.) Sometimes, because of their own personal issues, our kids are going to be angry at us through no fault of our own. Maybe they’re angry about something else, and we’re the safe ones to dump their feelings on. Maybe life’s unfair and they’re angry at everyone and anything. (We’ve all been there) Maybe their hormones are going crazy, and the fallout just happens to head in our direction. Both of those things are okay, and are even inevitable at some point in time. But constantly treating our kids in a way that makes them angry? It’s not kind, and it’s not something to celebrate.

And finally,

3) I’M THE PARENT, NOT THE FRIEND. True story: I was telling my kids about this blog post while we were eating dinner, and one of my teens said, “Why why why why WHY do people think that being parents and friends are mutually exclusive?” Indeed.

I’ve written about this before as well. Not only do I think it’s possible, but I think it’s hugely important to be both parents and friends with your kids. Parents are protectors. They raise, they guide, they nurture, they provide care. And friends? Real, true friends? Friends have your back. They’re your confidantes. They listen when you need to talk. They give honest advice. They make you laugh. They’re your shoulder when you need to cry. They call you out on your poor choices. They are your biggest cheerleaders, and your soft place to fall. They’re the ones who stand on a wall and say, “Nobody’s going to hurt you. Not on my watch.” Why on earth would anyone not want to be that person for their kids? For me, my friendship and my parenting with my kids is so intertwined, I could never separate the two. And I wouldn’t want to! In fact, my kids are some of my very best friends, and exactly the kind of people I choose to have in my life. They are kind, they are considerate, they are funny, they are intelligent. They inspire me to be a better person. If I took some sort of moral stance against being their friend, I would truly be missing out on one of the very best parts of parenting. Yes, I’m my children’s friend, and make no apologies for it.

—————————————————————–

My kids aren’t perfect, and Lord knows I’m not perfect either. We’re all just humans, doing our best, navigating this human thing together. But this much I know: if I always try to lead with love, kindness, gentleness, and respect, I’m headed in the right direction.

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Filed under attachment parenting, gentle parenting, mindful parenting, parenting, Uncategorized

November 6, 2019 · 4:07 PM

No Jimmy Kimmel, It’s Not Funny To Pretend To Eat Your Child’s Halloween Candy

I don’t really have an opinion on Jimmy Kimmel. People seem to like him. Apparently he’s funny. He makes people laugh. He’s a host, a comedian, a writer, and a producer. He has his own late night talk show that’s been on the air for over fifteen years. So, I mean, well done Jimmy Kimmel.

He also does something this time every year (Google tells me that this is year nine) that makes my heart hurt. He has parents, as a “prank”, tell their kids that they ate all their Halloween candy. The parents record the exchange, send in the video, and the internet has a collective laugh over these betrayed and crying children.

Hysterical.

Who decided it was funny to laugh at kids’ pain? I’ll get back to that.

Jokes should never hurt. Let’s just start there. Jokes should make both parties laugh. If one party is laughing and the other one is crying, that’s not a joke. That’s bullying. Plain and simple. If a parents pulls a “prank” on their child with the intent of making them sad, it’s bullying. If a parent records a child – understandably – crying, and then shares it with the internet, it’s bullying. If we, as a collective society, laugh at children who are in distress, it’s bullying. We seem to recognize bullying when it’s done in the schoolyard, but turn a blind eye when it’s done by parents.

The very definition of bullying is “seeking to harm, intimidate, or coerce.” Is that not exactly what parents are doing when they use their power over their children to make them feel bad? And then splash it about the internet as though it’s entertainment?

Kids are human beings, with human feelings. Somewhere along the way, we’ve lost sight of that. Doing something to purposely hurt those feelings is mean. Children are not our puppets. They’re not here for our entertainment. They are people, who, like all people, are deserving of kindness and respect.

Pretending to eat their candy is akin to me parking my husbands car around the corner, telling him it was stolen from the driveway, and then laughing (And filming! Can’t forget the filming!) at his reaction.

But it’s just candy, you may argue. The car comparison is unfair. But what’s “just” candy to an adult may very well be extremely important to the child. The fact that it’s “just” candy doesn’t make their sadness or their tears any less real. It doesn’t make what you’ve done any less cruel. Delighting in someone else’s misery is NEVER funny, no matter how insignificant you think it to be. Candy, cars, it doesn’t matter. Purposely hurting someone so we can laugh at them is one of the lowest things we can do. Jokes shouldn’t hurt.

We have to start doing better. We seem to realize that there is a bullying problem in schools today (which is a start!), but no one wants to have the uncomfortable conversation. No one wants to admit that maybe, just maybe, kids bully because they were first bullied at home. Because they learned that it was all a game to cause someone else pain. Because they learned that it was funny to make someone else cry. Because they learned that “jokes” could be at someone else’s expense.

Our society, and our kids, deserve better. And that is never, ever going to come to fruition if we don’t take a hard honest look at how we’re treating our own children, the youngest and most vulnerable members of our own families.

Be nice to children. Please.

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July 26, 2019 · 3:12 PM

No More Wee-Wees and Hoo-Hoos

When I was pregnant with my second (18 at the time of this writing), I had a routine 5 month ultrasound, and we decided that we wanted to find out the gender. Our oldest, 3 at the time, was bouncing around the room, chanting to nobody in particular, “Do you see a penis or a vagina? Penis or vagina?” The tech looked us over with derision, sort of snorted and said, “Wow, you must be really big on penises and vaginas in your house.” I smiled politely (I’m pretty sure) but inside I was irritated. We were about to find out the gender of our baby. I’m pretty sure everyone in the room was wondering about penises and vaginas. And what was wrong with a 3 year old voicing his curiosity anyway?

I wonder if she, like so many adults, was uncomfortable with a small child using, well…. using the correct terms for body parts.

I was on a Facebook group recently, where a grown woman referred to her vulva as a “front butt.” My first thought was, “WHO SAYS THAT?” The answer, not-surprisingly, is: a lot of people. Along with wee wee and pee pee and hoo hoo and vajayjay. Of course there’s the ubiquitous “down there”, or simply one’s “area” or “parts.” And in recent news, my 11 year old just informed me that some people say, “the fold.” (Who knew?)

You wouldn’t think it would be controversial. After all, no one uses a euphemism for “elbow.” But people get weird when it comes to private parts, and I’m here to tell you, for the sake of your kids:

Get over it and use the right words. For so many reasons.

For one thing, using the correct words teaches them that there is nothing to be ashamed about, that they can openly come to us with questions or problems, and that there isn’t anything inherently wrong or dirty or bad about any of their body parts. A four year old should be able to confidently, and without shame, tell his parents that his penis hurts.

It’s also important when talking with doctors and other medical professionals, so that they can voice where they have a problem, pain or concern. And if they’re ever touched inappropriately, they’ll have the correct terms to be able to describe what happened. Some studies even say that it makes them less likely to be touched inappropriately in the first place, since abusers are more likely to shy away from kids who are confident and knowledgeable about their bodies.

It makes it easier and more comfortable – for both parties – when we talk to our kids about body changes during puberty.

It makes it easier and more comfortable – for both parties – when we talk about sex.

It makes it easier and more comfortable – for both parties – when we talk about appropriate and inappropriate touch.

It makes it easier and more comfortable – for both parties – when we talk about body image and self-love.

While context is an important thing (ie: It’s okay to talk about your vagina; it’s not okay to CALL someone a vagina), the words themselves are not bad, dirty or wrong. They’re body parts. And the sooner we can get comfortable with them, the sooner our kids will be comfortable with them.

So teach your kids: Penis. Testicles. Vulva. Vagina. Labia. Clitoris. (Teach them what’s what, too!)

Please teach them the real words. If for no other reason, so they don’t turn into adults so afraid of proper terminology that they shame a 3 old for his excitement over finding out if he was going to have a brother or a sister.

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Filed under gentle parenting, parenting

March 7, 2019 · 10:31 AM

I’m Not a Mean Mom… But I’m Not a Nice Mom, Either

Yesterday, a friend sent me a link to another Mean Mom blog post. The internet is full of these, and their praise is rampant. Moms virtually compete to see who can be the meanest, and backs are pat when the bar is raised.

It makes me tired.

I’ve written several times about why I’ve opted out of being a “mean mom.” ( You can read a few here, here, and here)

But the thing is, I don’t want to be a “nice” mom, either.

Nice is common. Nice is superficial. Nice is what you are to the cashier at Target, and the waiter at Cheesecake Factory. Nice is what you do when you follow polite societal norms. With a little bit of practice, anyone can be nice.

When it comes to my kids (as to everyone I love), I want to be kind. Kind comes from somewhere deeper than nice. Kind is precipitated by caring, by genuine feelings, and genuine desires. Kind makes me want to treat my children the way I’d like to be treated, and kind makes me want to put my children first.

Being kind is not the same thing as being a doormat. In fact, it’s the opposite. Kindness comes from a place of true connection. A place where there’s room for give and take, for honest communication, and deep relationship.

Kindness puts someone else’s needs above your own, and kindness begets more kindness. The beauty of kindness is that it spreads. The more kindness that you pour onto your kids, the more kindness they’ll pour onto others.

The more you show them you care, the more they’ll care about others.

The more you give, the more they’ll learn to give to others.

The more you model forgiveness, and grace, and understanding, the more they’ll respond in kind.

The world, especially these days, desperately needs more kindness. The world does not need more “mean.”

And as with anything else we’re trying to change in society…. the best place to start is with our kids.

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