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I recently read an article titled, Pediatrician Shares No. 1 Secret to Raising Happy, Successful Kids. Even though my kids are grown, or nearly grown, I still like to read other people’s takes on parenting. So I gave it a whirl. Read it if you’d like, but a major spoiler is incoming.
His secret?
Chores.
Huh. I wasn’t expecting that, I’ll give him that. And I don’t have any super strong feelings about it either. Chores are… neutral to me. I’ve never required my kids to do chores, but they all do them, simply because it’s part of life. Want clean dishes to eat off of? You’ll have to wash them. Want fresh clothes? You’ll need to throw in a load of laundry. Want to keep your kitchen hygienic and free of bugs? The trash has to go outside. I do the majority of the inside chores, mainly because I tend to have the most time, and Mike takes care of the yard work. If we need or want help? We ask. No more simple nor complicated than that. It’s just chores.
What the article did do though was get me to thinking about what my own answer would be. If someone asked me what my biggest parenting tip was, what would I say? My first thought was respect, followed by treating them how I’d like to be treated. But even those were more specific than what I wanted (and speaking of specific, I think that was biggest head scratching factor of the chores for me. Of allll the things to say, chores are just so oddly specific. But I digress.)
I finally decided when I boiled it all down that the ONE place I would start is this:
I treat them like people.
Which, if you’re like me, might sound really silly. Of COURSE they’re people. What else would they be? It really shouldn’t be a radical thought. But unfortunately there is a (rather disturbingly) large segment of society that very much does NOT treat children like people. What do they treat them as then?
Objects, existing to serve some purpose to the adults.
Dogs, to be trained.
Computers, to be programmed.
Lesser beings in general.
But they are people, from the moment they are born. Yes, they are still growing and learning and discovering how the world works, but they are people. Yes, they may stumble and fall and need more assistance at various points in their life, but they are people. Yes, they will look to us for guidance on sense of sense, relationships, how to navigate the intricacies of navigating life with other beings, but THEY ARE STILL PEOPLE. Right now, at whatever age they’re at.
They are people, deserving of respect and dignity and a sense of autonomy. They deserve to know what it’s like to love and be loved. They deserve to live out loud… to think, feel, and express themselves the way they feel is best.
When we begin by looking at our kids for what they are: fellow humans trying their best to do the human thing, everything else tends to fall in line. They have their own unique wants, their own needs, their own goals, their own dreams, their own personalities, their own strengths, their own insecurities, their own interests, their own preferences, their own idiosyncrasies. The list goes on. And our job as parents isn’t to squash all of that into a perfect kid-shaped box, but to nurture and embrace it. To let them be exactly who they are, with no qualifiers and no apologies. THEY get to choose the shape of the box.
When you hold a fellow human in high esteem (which I would certainly hope would be the case for your children) you naturally treat them well. You treat them in ways I mentioned up above. With respect. In the manner that you want to be treated. You help them. You support them. You listen to them. You offer them true companionship and honest advice. You’re their biggest cheerleader, and their gentlest critic. You help them be the best human they can be. And that is true regardless of their age. I am 49, and I’m still learning about being a better human from the people I trust and admire, and I know that it is no different for my kids.
So the secret to raising kids that are happy? Successful? Respectful? Kind? Recognizing their humanness. And responding accordingly.
Filed under gentle parenting, mindful parenting, parenting
I recently read a Facebook post by what I’m assuming is a young mom, tired and frustrated, looking for suggestions on how to get her kids to listen. She said she was at her wit’s end, and that every interaction with her children was ending with her “screaming like a psychopath” until they did what she wanted them to do.
99% of the comments were invariably the same, and were some iteration of this:
Punishment. And if that doesn’t work, more punishment. And if it STILL doesn’t work… more punishment. The mom answered that she had tried punishment, and more punishment, and that it always ended with her yelling. Believe me when I say my heart goes out to this mom. I didn’t respond to the post (mostly selfishly, because I’ve really been getting my feelings hurt on Facebook as of late), but if I did, I would have said this:
It’s so hard. Anyone who says that parenting isn’t hard sometimes is either not doing it right, or lying. Parenting is a relationship, and like any relationship it takes work. And don’t get me wrong. My relationship with my kids is the single most beautiful and rewarding thing in my life by far. By far. But we’re humans, not robots, so there are hills and valleys. Bumps along the way. Sometimes there are problems that we don’t know how to solve.
But punishment is not the answer.
For one thing, as this mom has seen, punishment doesn’t work. If it did, the behavior would be fixed, and punishment would no longer be needed. There wouldn’t be kids who were continually spanked, or put in time out, or perpetually grounded. They would “learn their lesson” the first time. At best, punishment can curb a behavior temporarily, because it feels unpleasant, or because of shame, embarrassment, or fear of it happening again. Once the moment is over though, it’s back to business as usual. It doesn’t actually teach anything.
That’s not why I don’t punish though. My relationship with my kids is not transactional. I don’t input a certain stimulus, expect a certain response, and wait to see if it “works.” Relationships are far more nuanced than that. And our kids are people, not computers to program.
The reason I don’t punish is that it literally does the opposite of what I (and I would imagine, most parents) want from my relationship with my kids. It drives a wedge. It brings you further apart instead of closer together. It erodes trust. It creates fear, anger, and resentment…. not things I want to purposely bring to any relationship that’s as important as the one I share with my kids.
So does that mean I ignore behavior that’s unsafe/unkind/generally problematic? No. It means I lean in. It means I 1) take the time to figure out what’s going on. Behavior doesn’t exist in a vacuum. What is the “why”? Once you have a why, you can work on solutions. And 2) Connect. Engage. Listen. Empathize. Treat them how I’d like to be treated myself. Take them by the hand and show them through my actions how things can be different.
Punishment is something you do TO your kids. Healthy discipline is solving a problem with your kids.
I want my kids, of all ages, to feel comfortable coming to me when they have a problem or make a mistake. I want them to trust that I will help them and support them, without criticism and without judgement. I want them to trust that I’m a safe space to fall.
And that trust that I’m looking for will never, ever come from punishment.
Filed under gentle parenting, mindful parenting, parenting
There’s a post making the rounds on Facebook about eight things the author believes are battles worth fighting (re: things he believes you should force them to do.) It came from a twitter post by a man named David Morris, and you can read the whole thread here.
As with most mainstream advice, I disagreed, and what follows is his list along with why I choose to do it differently.
Standard disclaimer: I don’t know the author, and this post is not about him but rather about the ideas he espouses. I don’t believe in picking battles with my kids, most especially not the eight things listed below. I would far rather live in harmony with them, show them through my words and actions what kind of person I want to be, and by extension what I hope for them and their lives as well.
I will not “battle” over any of the following:
Reading – Mr Morris believes you should make your kids read. To be fair, a lot of people believe you should make your kids read. But why? And I say this as an avid fan of reading. Reading is a tool, like any other. It’s a useful tool, to be sure. Reading opens the door to information, imagination, and inspiration. But it’s just one tool. There are many others. Some people like to watch videos. Some people like to listen to podcasts. Some people like to get hands on instruction. All are useful. All are valid options. Reading is not inherently more laudable than any other tool at our disposable. I have four kids, and they all have different relationships with reading. Some read for pleasure, some read for information, some read the news, some read fanfic. All are okay, all are acceptable. I refuse to be a reading snob.
Going outside – Make your kids go outside, he says. There they will find “discovery, wonder, peace, and joy,” and we need to make them go outside to find it. And absolutely, there are great things to be had in going outdoors. Hiking in the desert is one of my all time favorite things to do. But no one ever found peace in being forced to do something. No one ever found joy in a choice that was foisted on them by someone else. Going outside is one option of many. As with any activity that I enjoy, I might share, invite, and even encourage my kids to join me. But I would never force.
Work – None of my kids have ever been forced to do chores around the house, but they have all helped anyway. Why? Because we’re a family, and we work together. When I’ve wanted or needed help, I simply asked. (And when I say I asked, I literally ASKED. They had the option to say no.) Nine times out of ten, they happily helped. And that ten percent? The times they were busy or tired or simply not in the mood? There are times I’m busy or tired or not in the mood too. It’s part of being a human. As for translating into a work ethic in the real world: My 21 year old got his first full-time job about a year ago. He worked hard, was always on time, and was promoted to manager in less than a year. My 14 year old recently got a job of her own volition too. She works hard, is always on time, and has received nothing but praise from her manager and co-workers. I think they’re doing okay.
Eating meals together – This is a little weird to me. In our house, we do usually eat dinner together. The exceptions would be when someone is working, sleeping, playing a game they can’t/don’t want to break from, or some seasons when sports or activities made our schedule wonky. But we have plenty of friends who rarely eat dinner together, because life or preferences dictate otherwise, and they find other ways to connect and come together. There are lots of opportunities for sharing and connection in 24 hours. There’s nothing magical about sitting around a dinner table at a certain time.
Boredom – Make your kids live with boredom, Morris tells us, because they need unscheduled time. While I definitely agree that there is value to be had in unscheduled time, there is nothing wrong with helping a bored child find something to do. My kids rarely complain about being bored (because they too see the value in unscheduled time), but when they do we brainstorm together. Want to play a game? Watch a movie? Go for a walk? Sometimes boredom leads to other activities, creativity, and enjoyment, sometimes it leads to downtime, and sometimes it leads to nothing more than sitting in the boredom for awhile. Either way, it’s just another feeling to be had and dealt with, and certainly not something worthy of a battle.
Making your kids go last – The idea behind this one is that we challenge the “me first” attitude that he claims most kids are plagued with. We need to let them know that “the world doesn’t revolve around them,” because “most kids will elevate themselves above all others.” Wow, did this ever make me sad. What a mean-spirited and pessimistic way to look at children. What I’ve observed in my own children and their friends is the exact opposite. They are some of the most selfless and giving people I know. And you know how to raise selfless and giving kids? By being selfless and giving! By showing them what it looks like to put others first, not last. By treating them they way you’d like to be treated. I wouldn’t deliberately put anyone else I love last just to teach them a lesson, so why would I do it to my kids? I want my kids to see me caring for others, taking care of the people around me, being mindful of other people’s needs. And the best place to start is in the home, with them. As for the “me first” attitude, caring for yourself is important, too. The beauty of instilling a sense of kindness and compassion in your kids is that it extends to themselves too. They learn the importance of taking care of others, and the importance of self-care as well. Kids who are confident and feel good about themselves want others to feel good, too. It is a win-win.
Awkward conversation – Sure, I’ve had awkward conversations with my kids, just as I’ve had awkward conversations with other family, friends and loved ones. It’s just a part of life. It’s important to communicate, and sometimes communication is awkward, or difficult, or uncomfortable. But the kind of conversations he is talking about – sex, dating, body image, values – are conversations that are born out of an open and honest relationship, not something that is forced or put upon them against their will. My goal is to keep an open line of communication with my kids, so that they know they can come to me with questions, concerns, or just to talk something through. I’ve found the best way to do that is by first listening, not talking. Yes, there are, and will continue to be, times where they need to hear my words. But listening comes first, not the other way around.
Limitations – Ah yes, limits! A favorite of mainstream parenting advocates. We’re told “screen time limits, dietary limits, activity limits, and schedule limits are all good.” And don’t get me wrong. Limits are important. We all operate under a certain set of limits. But the limits that work for us, the limits that feel comfortable and doable, are instrinic limits, not limits forced on us by other people. It’s true of adults, and it’s true of children. The rub lies in trusting, partnering, and helping our children when it comes to limits, rather than imposing limits from our own arbitrary toolbox. What works for one child may be completely different for another. There are as many solutions to the question of limits as there are people. To use a few of his examples: diet, activity, and schedule are nothing if not personal. When given a supportive hands-on parent, and the freedom to do so, children learn to trust their bodies, their brains, and their own internal cues to tell them when they’ve had enough… whether it’s video games, sleep, or Flaming Hot Cheetos. Helping our children recognize and create their own limits results in balanced, healthy lives. Forcing children against their will results in resentful kids that will rebel as soon as they get the chance.
My primary goal when it comes to my kids is to treat them with kindness, respect, and the same amount of care I’d show anyone else I love. These relationships are the most meaningful I will ever have, and are not something I take for granted. Choosing force over partnership, and control over trust has no part in a healthy relationship… including, and especially, when it comes to my kids.
Filed under gentle parenting, mindful parenting, parenting
“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.
Filed under gentle parenting, mindful parenting, parenting
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.
Filed under gentle parenting, mindful parenting, parenting, Uncategorized
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.
Filed under gentle parenting, hot topics, mindful parenting, parenting