Category Archives: kids

April 24, 2023 · 2:29 PM

5 Reasons I’d Rather Talk To My Kids Over Just About Anyone Else

Sometimes when I head to bed at night, Tegan (15 at the time of this writing) will follow me. We’ll sit on my bed and chat into the late hours… about life, boys, and our hopes for the future. It is often my favorite part of the day. I love my kids of course, but I also genuinely like them, and so enjoy spending time with them. Making time to talk to my kids – to just eschew all distractions, give them all of my attention, and just LISTEN – is something I consider one of the most important parts of being a parent. Selfishly, it’s also one of the most gratifying. My kids are my favorite people on the planet, and these are just a few reasons why.

They’re smart – I don’t mean book smart (though they’re that too!). I mean life smart. When I was a teenager, I didn’t know which way was up. I had no earthly clue who I was, no idea what I stood for, no sense of self at all. But my kids know who they are. They know how the world works, and they know their place in it. I am blown away at how thoughtful and sophisticated their thought process is. Yes, they have growing up to do (don’t we all?) but today’s young people are far smarter and more mature than most adults like to give them credit for. They have a lot to offer … to us, to each other, to the world at large. We just need to be willing to listen.

They’re kind – One of Tegan’s favorite things to say is “That’s not kind.” Sometimes it’s said in a joking way, and sometimes she’s dead serious. If any of us says anything unkind about someone else, she’s the first one to call us out on it. And I’m so glad she does! Tegan reminds me, again and again, about the importance of kindness, and about treating people the way we’d like to be treated. I don’t know where she got her heart from, but it is giant. And it is inspiring. She wants the world to be treated kindly, generously, and with grace, and it’s a lesson I take from her daily. All four of my kids instinctively know how to be kind, how to be gentle, and how to navigate life and relationships in an honest, thoughtful, and caring way. I want to be like them when I grow up.

They’re funny – One of the fun things about having multiple kids is just how different they are, sense of humor included. The oldest is all about the straight up puns and dad jokes. All dad jokes, all day. The 22 year old is very much the opposite, and relies on sarcasm and dead pan delivery. 19 year old is like a comedian: amused by life’s absurdities. And the 15 year old, the baby, is one of those people for whom funny is just a personality trait. She’s funny without trying. All four of them make me laugh, and as it happens, laughing is one of my very favorite things to do.

They’re surprising – One of the coolest things about young people is that they are still learning and growing. We’re still learning and growing throughout our lives of course, but there is just something about getting to witness the leaps and bounds growth in knowledge and maturity that comes with youth. My kids are constantly surprising me… with what they know, with how they think, with what they choose to share. I love it when Everett is in a chatty mood when I pick him up from school, because it means I get to hear about what he learned in class, or what he’s writing his next paper about, or what cool thing his friend told him. I love to hear their opinions and I love to hear their “whys.” I love it when they catch me off guard, and when they make me look at something in a way I’ve never done before.

They’re unique – When I said I didn’t know who I was when I was a teenager, I wasn’t kidding. I tried to be the “good” kid, do what was expected, please the people around me, think/feel/act the way I was supposed to, giving no thought or consideration to my own wants or needs. I feel like I didn’t even begin to scratch that “Who am I?” question until I was in my ~~twenties~~ forties. My kids though… dang. They know who they are. Yes, they’re still figuring things out like everyone else, but they are not afraid to be who they are, and I so admire that. I feel so lucky that I get a front row seat: to their quirks, their personalities, their likes, their dislikes, those weird little idiosyncrasies that make us who we are. Idiosyncrasies that are not just accepted, but CELEBRATED.

It doesn’t matter which kid is in front of me, or what the topic of conversation might be. School. Work. Friends. Politics. Pop culture. Food. Video games. Movies. Music. Dreams. Nightmares. Pet peeves. I am here for it.

I am here for all of it.

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Filed under kids, life

July 10, 2014 · 6:00 AM

A Culture of Love

I’m thrilled to bring you another guest post from my good friend Alice. She previously wrote for my blog here, here and here. Thanks Alice! I’m always happy to share your words.

Six months ago, my husband and I packed up our house and our 5 kids and moved to Turkey. Although he’s been military for over 20 years, this is our first overseas move. It’s hard enough to prepare yourself for living in a foreign country – preparing 5 small people (who at the time were 9, 7, 4, and 2 year old twins) was nearly impossible. And our Turkish is…lacking. And that’s a generous description.

Ever since my twin girls were born in 2011, my biggest challenge (besides actually leaving the house) has been managing 5 kids in public while fielding rude comments and questions from strangers. Disparaging remarks about how many kids I have, rude comments about how I’m lucky I finally “got my girls” after having 3 boys, rude remarks about their own kids – I’ve heard it all. And hated every second of it. In America, I believed that I didn’t like talking to people, or meeting new people. I dreaded going out with my kids because of the inevitable comments. It’s a delicate thing, to respond to rude comments. But even on the rare occasions when I felt like I had the perfect response, it wore me down. It’s exhausting to always be on your guard, to always expect the worst possible thing to come out of someone’s mouth. And more times than not, that “someone” was a fellow mother.

Before we moved to Turkey, I read everything I could find on the internet about Turkish culture. Everything I found said the same thing – Turkish people love children, and lovingly welcome them everywhere. That sounded promising! And now I can say with certainty that what we’ve experienced in the past 6 months proves it to be true. It started the minute we got off the plane in Ankara. At that point, we had been traveling for almost 24 hours. And we were lucky enough to bring a horrible stomach virus on the planes with us, which made itself known as we were boarding our first flight in Washington, DC. I had one of my girls in a sling, snuggled close as we got ready to board, when she threw up all over both of us. And thus began the world’s most hellacious journey. By the time we finished traveling, both girls were wearing airport t-shirts and diapers, having compromised all their clothes (and extra clothes) with vomiting and diarrhea. My 4 year old was also sick, and my 9 and 7 year olds were jetlagged and starting to feel sick. Needless to say, when we finally landed in Ankara, my husband and I were…done. And our family smelled, like oh so many odiferous things. And yet the first Turkish person we encountered, while we were still exiting the jetway, was an airport worker who smiled when she saw us coming, and excitedly gave our 4 year old a hug and patted his curly head.

Six months later, I have nothing but positive stories. Everywhere we go, strangers happily say, “Maşallah!” which is a blessing for our kids and also a way to protect them from evil. It doesn’t matter that I have visible tattoos, or a bleached pixie cut – no one is looking at me. They’re too busy counting my kids, exclaiming over twins, and giving hugs. And frequently, asking to have their picture taken with my kids. And although my Turkish is very basic, tone of voice translates across languages – there is no negativity in these interactions.

Even teens and young adults love kids. We walk to a small Turkish market frequently from our apartment, and one day we happened to go while a large group of preteen and teenage girls was there. While I was paying, my boys decided to wait outside. When I exited the market, at first I couldn’t find them, and then I saw that my 7 and 4 year olds were totally encircled by girls cooing over them, and my 9 year old was sitting on a bench grinning, with 2 teen girls sitting close to him in a lovingly protective manner. There were no sinister implications here. The love and affection for children is deeply ingrained in the culture here. In America we have stereotyped our teens to be selfish and self-centered; we as a society treat children badly and then act offended when they respond in kind. But here I see firsthand a society that regards all children with love and kindness, and I see the teens and young adults giving kindness in return. I’m not claiming Turkey is perfect, but the Turkish people are doing something really right.

Probably the best example I can give involves the dreaded public tantrum. We took a trip to Amasra, a beautiful coastal town loaded with history and old ruins. As we were walking around the old castle walls, we came to a set of stone steps that was truly treacherous. Steep, long, steps made of bumpy stone, with uneven heights, and no railing. I picked up one of my girls, but when my husband picked up our other 3 year old, she threw a fit. So he put her down and said she could walk but she needed to hold his hand. She refused, and got madder. At this point our boys were halfway down the steps, and I was waiting at the top holding a 3 year old who was getting heavy. It was not a good (or safe) situation. So my husband gently picked up our screaming girl and carried her down, while she continued to scream the whole way. When he got to the bottom, he set her down, and she turned around and marched back up 6-8 steps, and came down on her own while my husband walked next to her. A Turkish woman watched this whole scene, and was laughing kindly. She and I looked at each other, smiling, and she said, “She’s so determined! She’s going to be a leader!” I have had kids have public tantrums in the US, and they have almost always been met with scorn and derision, and worst of all fellow parents trying to shame me. It makes a difficult parenting moment harder, and deeply embarrassing. But instead of putting us down, this wonderful stranger lifted all of us up by praising my daughter’s character. Yes, determined. Such a positive way to phrase it, and so true.

Years of the Turkish people treating children with kindness and love has created generation after generation of adults who feel loved and give love freely in return. The generous way they view normal childhood behavior is a precious gift. And as it turns out, I’ve realized that I do love meeting new people and talking to them, especially when I know that no disparaging remarks about my family will be part of that conversation. Living in Turkey has changed me in many many ways – one of the most important being that I now know firsthand the blessing a positive interaction with strangers can be. Back in the US, I will be on the lookout for families in public, especially ones who might be having a hard moment. And I’ll do what I can to offer kind words and generosity of spirit towards their children. It’s something small we can all do that can make a big difference.

More love, more kindness. Only good can come of it.

Alice Davis is an Army wife, mother of five, and probably the last person on earth who doesn’t have a blog. She loves to talk about unschooling, gentle parenting, and mothering multiples. Her family is currently living inTurkey, and soaking up all that the culture has to offer.

3 Comments

Filed under guest posts, kids, kindness, life, parenting

April 13, 2014 · 11:32 AM

Following Water and Watching Ants…

A stomach bug is currently trying to take over our household, and as completely miserable as that is (seriously, how utterly lousy is a stomach bug??) the forced break and sort of “reset” on life is timely and important. Tegan was sad to have missed a fun field trip on Friday, I had to cancel plans with a friend yesterday, and finally accepting the inevitable, we cleared the calendar for today as well.

For the moment, we’re home. As long as we need.

We’ve been busy lately. A good busy… but busy nonetheless. A friend recently asked me what we’d been so busy doing, and I didn’t have an immediate answer. It’s just been an active season all across the board. More playdates, more field trips, more activities, more plans. Which always leads to a not-so-subtle reminder of the importance of living in the moment. Otherwise, I make myself crazy.

There was a time when even two things scheduled in the same day would stress me out. I couldn’t enjoy a playdate in the morning, because my head was too wrapped up in thinking about getting them to gymnastics in the afternoon. Oh but these kids, especially Tegan… if they’ve taught me anything, it’s that I can’t live that way. Life is in the moments, not in the plans.

Last week, the kids helped me wash the car. Tegan had been asking for awhile, and it’s finally been hot enough to want to get wet lately.

One of the girl’s favorite things to do after we wash the car is to put on our shoes, and follow the water down the street. Like a stomach bug, but without the misery and ick, that walk always serves as a little time-out from life. We chat and laugh and follow the stream (sometimes walking in the stream) as it goes to the end of our street, around the corner, across to the other side, and down down down along the curb until it finally stops – usually spreading into a thin little pool in the cement wash between two of our neighbor’s houses. We stand and watch while it reaches out and eventually disappears, thin little fingers of water evaporating in the sun.

This most recent time, our water walk took even longer than usual, because she stopped to examine some ants along the way.

We’d had plans that morning, and plans later again that day, but right then, in that moment… the only thing that mattered was following the water and watching the ants. That’s it. Not to-do lists, not errands, not playdates, not field trips, not yoga classes.

Water and ants. A happy girl, a moment, and a memory.

And I think that when you strip it all down, beneath all the flowery language and philosophical soap-boxing, all my parenting and unschooling advice can be summed up in those few words:

Follow the water. Watch the ants.

Say yes. And be there, with your whole heart.

I have regrets as a parent to be sure. Things I wish I’d done differently. Things I wish I’d said “yes” to. Things I wish I would have researched more carefully and didn’t say yes to. But I have no doubts that I will never, ever regret taking the time to follow the water and watch the ants.

2 Comments

Filed under kids, life, mindful parenting, parenting, perspective, Tegan

July 25, 2013 · 5:34 PM

Slowing Down

My kids are my greatest teachers.

One of the biggest lessons that my daughter has taught me (and continues to teach me, again and again) is to slow the heck down. Breathe. Live in the moment. Forget about life’s distractions. It’s strange to me, an introverted homebody, that this is a lesson I would so desperately need to receive over and over… but I do.

The past two months have been incredibly busy ones, and I’ve sort of prided myself on rising to the occasion. Keep moving. Keep checking. Keep doing. Go, go, go. I’ve become very adept at taking care of Very Important Things while simultaneously tending to other Very Important Things. Is it weird to balance your checkbook sitting on the wings of the community pool while your kids are in swimming lessons? Or work on your grocery list while waiting for your son in physical therapy? I don’t know. But I’ve been doing them both, in my – mostly successful – quest to stay on top of everything when I’ve got a million balls in the air. Can’t stop moving. Can’t drop the balls.

This morning Tegan got up early. Well, it wasn’t exactly early. It was 8:00. But that’s early for her lately, because she’s been staying up late, and sleeping in the next morning. Which works out well for me, because it gives me plenty of time to work on my ever-growing to-do list before anyone gets up. But this morning she got up at 8:00, and in her sleepy little stupor, immediately sprawled herself out on the couch. I knew she was about to fall back to sleep, so I asked her if she wanted me to get her blanket.

“No,” she told me. “Come back to bed with me.” Her eyes were nearly closed already.

“You want to go back to bed?”

She nodded with her eyes closed. “Yes, but I want you to come with me. Come lay with me.”

I knew if I waited about 30 seconds before I got up that she would just fall back to sleep again on the couch. I also knew that it was a moment I wouldn’t get back.

“Come lay with me.”

My first instinct was to grab my tablet (I’d been catching up on emails) so that I could use it in bed after she’d fallen asleep, but I knew she wouldn’t like that.

My daughter.

My need to do. all. the. things.

I acted before I could debate it. I left my tablet on the couch, and walked her back to bed. I tucked us both in, her little body happily curled against mine. It was only a matter of minutes before she was asleep, her head heavy against my arm, her breathing deep and even.

I slowed down.

I breathed.

Her timing was, as always, impeccable. In many ways, life is about to slow down for the next month or so. Swimming is officially over, ballet ended for the summer last week, karate ends on Saturday. And with so many of my clients with travel plans, even my yoga class has taken a hiatus for at least the next month. But because this is, well, the real world, in many ways life is about to pick up as well. Lots of plans, lots of projects, lots to do.

But not this morning. Not right now. There’s a place for stillness too. A time to slow down. A time to breathe. I laid with my sleeping girl for a long time, savoring the moment, drinking in the lesson.

Slow down.

Breathe.

After she woke up, we hung out in bed for another hour, to-do list be damned. We watched TV, read about 7 Dora books, and talked about the important things moms and daughters talk about. I snuck out of the room just once when she was asleep, but I came right back.I just had to take a picture, to remind me.

2 Comments

Filed under about me, kids, learning, life, mindful parenting, not sweating the small stuff, parenting, Tegan

January 28, 2013 · 9:46 AM

Unschooling, Today

28 days into the new year.

Three of the four kids have been sick (Paxton is still steadfastly drinking his Vitamin C and so far successfully willing himself not to get it). We’ve had car repairs and front door repairs and dryer repairs. Gymnastics started up again. So did karate. And Cub Scouts.

We decided we needed to repaint almost our whole house, starting with the living room and kitchen:

And through it all, there’s been a lovely rhythm, the kind that reminds me why we unschool.

Spencer has been making good use of the tools he got for Christmas, spending much of his days out in the garage. When he’s not taking apart, putting together, or otherwise fixing his lawn mowers and weed wackers, he’s on the internet… soaking up more information, watching instructional videos, and trouble-shooting.

Paxton has been working hard teaching himself computer programming. He has a giant book on Python (which I know nothing about, except that it’s a computer “language”) that he uses as a reference, and he also watches tutorials and videos on YouTube. He’s able to program his own simple games from scratch now, and he sets himself a new goal every day.

Everett has been all about science and magic tricks lately. The science is cool and everything, but I love watching how the magic makes him come alive. He’s getting really, really good at the slight-of-hand stuff, as well as things like forcing cards (says his unbiased mom) and I’m so enjoying getting to watch him perform and improve.

And Tegan…. honestly, is there anyone busier than a 4 year old? With Tegan, I just need to show up, and keep up. Whether it’s drawing, or singing, or playing board games, or Barbies, or ponies, or dress-up, or acting out her most recent favorite scene from one of her TV shows… she keeps me on my toes, and in the present moment.

And it’s a beautiful place to be.

8 Comments

Filed under kids, life, unschooling, update

May 4, 2012 · 6:51 AM

Common Sense Parenting

I think sometimes as parents, we make things way more complicated than they need to be. I read a blog post the other day that referred to the “moral gymnastics” involved in everything from the food we buy, to the way we diaper, to the decisions we make about school. It’s a term that resonated with me, and if your emails and comments are any indication, it resonates with many of you as well.

I seem to write a lot about how I parent from the heart (because I do), and how I’ve never regretted any parental decision that’s been made by following my instinct (because I haven’t) but there’s another component that I regularly rely on. A big one.

Common sense. And it never steers me wrong.

I get some sort of … odd … objections every time I challenge the traditional, authoritarian, way of doing things. Objections that often make me wonder if we’ve lost sight of our collective common senses altogether. Whenever I write about parenting without punishments and coercion, I’m met with something that sounds like this: “But, but, they need to learn to obey you! They need to hear the word ‘no!’ What happens if they’re about to reach for a hot stove or run out into a crowded street?” As if the assumption is that a gentle parent wouldn’t dream of intervening when their child was in harm’s way. It’s a silly, silly argument. Common sense (not to mention parental instinct) tells us to protect a child who is in imminent danger. Common sense tells us that with a loving and attentive parent as their partner and guide, that kids will naturally learn not to play in traffic, and learn not to touch a hot burner, and learn not to stick a fork in an electrical outlet. We can give children choices, autonomy, and freedom; we can say YES as much as possible; and we can still trust that with gentle and compassionate guidance, that they will learn to navigate their world both safely and confidently. Common sense.

Another one I’ve heard a lot of, especially after my Spilled Milk post, is that if there is not some punitive measure taken when the child commits some infraction, that they will never learn to respect other people and/or their belongings. Common sense tells us that children learn how to treat others by watching how we, as their parents, treat others. Common sense tells us that when we demonstrate appropriate boundaries, that they will learn. For the past couple of weeks, I’ve brought Tegan with me to Paxton’s Physical Therapy appointments for his ankle. There are no separate rooms… just one big, open room, with a few beds, exercise equipment, mirrors, and a small waiting area with chairs. On any given day, there are never less than three other patients being worked with. Tegan is four, and it’s hard for four year olds to wait quietly. She’ll busy herself for a short amount of time with games on my phone, and then she’ll start to get antsy and loud. It’s normal for a four year old to get antsy and loud in a boring waiting area, but her needs to be four don’t supersede anyone else’s needs for a reasonably quiet and undisturbed session. So outside we go, where she can be loud and, well.. four, and the Physical Therapy patients can concentrate on what they came for. Common sense.

Recently, I posted about what I felt were the benefits of not placing arbitrary limits on the media that our children use. I’ve written about limits before, on everything from bedtimes, to food, to media. Naysayers immediately jump to extremes, but the fact is, no limits on bedtimes does not mean that the kids just stay up for 72 hours at a time. No limits on food does not mean that they’re existing on a diet of Ring Dings and Ho Hos. No limits on media does not mean that the 4 year old is playing a shoot-em-up game on the xbox, while the 8 year is watching Debbie Does Dallas in the other room. Common sense tells us that when we make sleep a safe, happy, thing when the kids are little, that as they grow they will trust themselves, listen to their bodies, and have a healthy relationship with both rest and wakefulness. Common sense tells us that when we fill our house with lots of good, whole, interesting foods; when we don’t let food become a battle of wills, a punishment, or a reward; when we let our children follow their own cues of hunger and thirst… that they will eat when they are hungry, stop when they are full, and appreciate food for both its nourishment and its enjoyment. Common sense tells us that the most important consideration when it comes to what they are watching, playing, & listening to is not controlling our kids, but knowing our kids, listening to our kids, and maintaining an open line of communication with our kids. Common sense tells us to watch things that may be frightening, confusing or disturbing to our young kids when they are asleep/not around, and it also tells us that they wouldn’t be interested in watching it anyway. Common sense.

Finally, common sense tells us that children, like all people (common sense tells us that children are people, too) respond to – and learn from – kindness, empathy, and love. NOT from coercion, shaming, and punishing… and certainly not from this current trend of public humiliation via the internet.

It’s not rocket science. It’s just common sense.

21 Comments

Filed under gentle discipline, gentle parenting, kids, learning, life, mindful parenting, parenting

March 14, 2012 · 10:22 PM

Plane tickets & new chapters

The first time Mike and I were on an airplane together was on our honeymoon. We were headed to Florida, to a condo that was graciously offered to us by a family friend. We were all lovey and wide-eyed, and I remember actually feeling a little bit embarrassed about how loudly our appearance screamed, “Newlyweds.” We were, like, twelve years old, and our wedding rings (which we have since ditched for matching silver bands with a quote in gaelic on them) were blindingly clean and sparkly.

The second time – of two – was right before we got pregnant with Spencer. We were on our way to the Bahamas with my sister and her then boyfriend. It was actually supposed to be a cruise (which we did take on the way back) but there was a fire on the ship, and we ended up having to fly there instead. It was a fun trip to a cool resort with great music, all-night limbo parties, and my introduction to the drink called the Bahama Mama.

This morning, 16 years since the ~~booze cruise~~ Bahama vacation, he booked us two tickets to Chicago. Next month I’m going to accompany him on a 4 day business trip sans kids, which will mark the first time that we’ve gone away just the two of us since becoming parents, AND the first time I’ve spent more than a day away from the kids period (I’m not counting the time I was in the hospital for five days with my gall bladder issues. I’m pretty sure there are different rules when you’re unconscious, losing bodily organs, or hopped up on morphine)

Not leaving the kids was not a conscious decision so much as a continuation of just following my heart and their lead. I knew I’d do it when they were ready, and not a moment sooner. We feel most happy and whole when we’re together, whether that means sticking around home, traveling across the country, or all those medium spots in between.

But there he was. Asking me if I wanted to go with him to Chicago. A year ago, I wouldn’t have even considered it. Six months ago, I wouldn’t have even considered it.

This time though, I knew it was time. And I was ecstatic about the prospect…. three whole days in a new-to-me city, just me and that husband of mine. The kids are thrilled to spend a few days with their grandparents, and while I’ll miss them like crazy, I know that it’ll be a positive adventure for them as well.

I feel excited, I feel nervous… but mostly I feel an overwhelming sense of the bittersweet. Not because I’m not sure if the kids are ready, but because I know that they are.

5 Comments

Filed under attachment parenting, family, kids, traveling

February 6, 2012 · 6:00 AM

The woman at the park

There was an incident at the park the other day. I witnessed, and ultimately tried to stop, a sad display of hatred towards children.

I have written about unkindness I’ve seen in public before. Two I can think of right off the bat were Natalie’s mother, and the old man at the grocery store. In those two cases though, I was a silent observer. Just another person in the crowd, watching what was unfolding, and not doing anything to stop it. This time I was a participant. Right there in the front lines as it were. I voluntarily inserted myself into the situation, boldly hoping for…. well, I don’t know what I was hoping for. I just knew I had to do it.

But I should start at the beginning.

It was a Friday, and most Fridays we’re at park day. I say “most” Fridays because I often try to get out of it. Not because I don’t have a good time (I do), and not because the other mothers aren’t wonderful (they are). Just because I’m a homebody and an introvert, and the thought of socializing for hours with dozens of other people makes me… tired. But this Friday, we were there.

The boys were all off with their friends clear across the park, playing football or frisbee, or whatever it is that they do. Tegan (almost 4) had just run across the playground with our friend Hannah (11), settling in to play in one of her favorite spots: the shady spot in the sand under the little kids’ playground.

They hadn’t been playing for long before Hannah came running back over to us, telling us that “an old lady had yelled at them,” and had told her and some other older kids that they had to leave the area because it was for younger kids only. We looked over and saw the lady in question, a couple of preteens simply hanging out and chatting, a toddler happily undisturbed in his play, and Tegan, still quietly sitting in the sand.

We told her she was fine, and that there were no hard and fast rules about who could play where. Besides, she was there with Tegan, clearly a “younger kid”, and was in essence acting as her caregiver.

A few minutes later, she came back to tell us that the lady had called them “stupid.” Now, I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Not because I didn’t trust Hannah’s word, but because I know that sometimes when you’re already feeling downtrodden that it’s easy to misinterpret. Maybe the woman had used the word “stupid” but hadn’t actually directed at anyone in particular.

So I waited, and I watched. Eventually the woman left the area to sit on a bench, and as more and more kids – of all ages – gathered to play on and around the equipment, she eyed them. Oh how she eyed them! Tegan wanted me to dig with her in the sand, in the middle of the playground, so I had a front row seat when the woman went from eying to acting. She strode over to where the kids were playing, and just as Hannah had reported, ordered them to leave. I couldn’t hear the entire conversation, but I could clearly hear her as she shouted, “You stupid kids!”

I got up and approached her.

(Let me stop here for a minute. If you’ve read my blog for any length of time you know that I DO NOT LIKE confrontations. Do not. Even over the internet, I have to be pretty provoked, it gives me a stomach ache, and I stress about it for days. So you can imagine my enthusiasm for the real-life variety)

But there I was, striding across the sand, feeling all Erin Brockovich.

“Excuse me,” I said to her, interrupting her as she demanded that one of the little boys take her to his mother. “I was just wondering why you’re calling these children stupid?”

“They are stupid! They’re disrespectful little brats who are blatantly disregarding the law, and this legal notice for them to stay away from this equipment.” She waved her arm at the sign in front of the playground. “This is for little kids only.”

“M’aam, I really don’t think that sign is a law. Those are just suggested ages.”

“THAT’S NOT WHAT IT SAYS!”

I wanted to get the full story, I really did. If they were truly doing something wrong, I wanted to know about it. From what I could see, they’d simply been playing, until she harrassed them. So I calmly asked, “Were they disrupting any little kids at all? Getting in their way, hurting anyone?”

“No, but they’re hurting the equipment!! It’s not designed for bigger kids.”

And she wasn’t done. “And when I told them they needed to leave, these stupid kids did not respect me as an authority figure. They have no respect for authority.”

“Well, to be honest with you, I would have a hard time respecting someone who was resorting to calling me stupid too.”

“I don’t have to show respect for children!! We don’t have to respect children. But they are supposed to show respect to adults no matter what!”

(Oh no she DID NOT just say that. But sadly, she did.)

“Kids have just as much right to be treated with respect as – ” she cut me off then, and started shaking her head.

“Go ahead, defend them, and they’ll grow up never respecting authority, never having any respect for anyone, thinking they can do whatever they want….. Stupid disrespectful kids…”

“Well, maybe if you tried talking to them without name calling…”

She’d pretty much turned her back on me by then, shaking her head and scoffing, “Say what you want. They’re disrespectful kids. Black is black.”

Now – in the interest of fairness – I have to say that somewhere in the middle of all of this, one child (out of the group of at least a dozen that had gathered around us) had started arguing back with her, telling her to “shut up”, and at one point returning one of her “you’re stupid kids” with a “well, you’re old!” Was that the right way to handle the situation? Of course it wasn’t. I’m not arguing that. But was he provoked? Absolutely. And at what I’m guessing to be about 10, he lacks the maturity that one would hope the 60-something year old lady he was arguing with should have possessed. And honestly, with her attitude and flat-out assertion that she doesn’t need to show respect for kids, I don’t blame him for his feelings.

I wish I could say that there was a tidy ending to my story, but there was not. It just…. fizzled. It ended with her turning away from me in a huff, realizing that I wasn’t going to stop defending the kids; and me realizing that she was not going to stop calling them “stupid” long enough to listen to anything I had to say. I ultimately told the kids to just let it go, and that they’d maybe be better off playing elsewhere. Ironically, park day was close to ending by then anyway, and moms were starting to gather up their kids to go home.

I walked away, my heart pounding in my chest, already thinking about what it was I’d actually accomplished. In many ways, I hadn’t accomplished much of anything. The woman clearly did not like children, and I’d done little to change her mind.

I wish she would’ve heard me. I wish I could have told her that when you realize that children are people, when you treat them with respect, when you treat them the way you wish to be treated, that they (just like their adult counterparts) will respond in kind. How much differently it all would have turned out if she’d just talked to them instead of calling them names!

But what I had done – besides gaining the confidence that comes from doing something I would have been too afraid to do even a couple of years ago – was stand up for the kids. Not by thinking about it, not by sitting behind my computer and writing about it, but by literally standing up, walking over there, looking that woman in the eye, and saying, “Hey, kids deserve respect too.”

I stood up for the kids, and I would do it again.

25 Comments

Filed under gentle parenting, hypocrisy, kids, life, mindful parenting, parenting, respect

December 6, 2011 · 5:16 PM

Day Six: Regrouping

Just nineteen days till Christmas.

I was recently living some Christmases past on my blog, feeling sad about the fact that I’ve always written about our advent activities in great detail, and that this year… um… it’s not happening. I feel like we have been go, go, going for the past six days – they’ve been good days, don’t get me wrong – and there has been precious little time to catch my breath, let alone do anything silly like write a blog post or share a picture.

It was starting to catch up with me already, so today I’m doing just that: stopping to breathe, blog, and share a few pictures (and also go to the doctor when Husband gets home, because I’m finally admitting that this sinus infection is not going away on its own.)

We have been geocaching, gone out for ice cream, had a carpet picnic, and made paper snowflakes. The little ones have done craft after craft, and done it up well I might add:

Husband and the boys also spent almost an entire day this weekend building an addition to the chicken coop:

Yesterday, we joined a field trip to a railroad museum at the last minute…

… and spent the rest of the day out and about, browsing and shopping and librarying.

Which brings me to today, and my great need to regroup. I’m once again reminding myself to live in the moment, enjoy the little things, and not get caught in the hustle and bustle. Our calendar for the next two weeks is even fuller, and I intend to enjoy it. Even before my antibiotics kick in.

Happy 19 Days Till Christmas!

Just So You Know

Just so you know, I’m not ignoring you when I don’t answer your comment (or your email or your text) right away. I have four kids and a Mike and a house that need me. I’m not good at juggling, and sometimes the more I have to do, the more I start to slow down.

Just so you know, if you visit my house, it will be messy. I start to clean, only to hear a giant sploosh, followed by an “uh oh”, and the discovery that the 3 year old just spilled her paint rinse cup. Again. Or dumped out all 8836256 of her brother’s legoes, or smashed a cracker all over the couch, or shed her muddy clothes all over the kitchen. And that’s okay.

Just so you know, as far as I’m concerned, people trump “things” every time. Which means that if I’m faced with mopping the dirty floor and playing ring-around-the-rosy with the girl, or reading with the 7 year old, or talking “Minecraft” with the 11 year old, or watching a Nerf video with the 14 year old… the kids will win. Every time.

Just so you know, my backyard is messy too. Partly because my 6 chickens are like children to me too, and their ability to be able to roam happy and free is more important to me than tidiness…. and partly because right now, my kids need my attention more than my yard.

Just so you know, I don’t believe in putting people in boxes:

When you see my three year old ~~screaming~~ crying in the grocery store, please don’t assume that she is “defiant” or “manipulative” or a “drama queen.” She is passionate and enthusiastic and full of energy, and I love that about her. She is sweet and funny and loves to entertain. She is awesome.

When you realize that my seven year old is not yet reading, please don’t assume he is a “slower” learner. I can barely keep up with what he is learning on a daily basis, and he is continually amazing me with both his knowledge and his spirit. He has a huge heart and gives great hugs. He’s awesome too.

When you hear that my 11 year old is passionate about video games, please don’t assume he in any way resembles your misinformed image of a “lazy gamer.” He is intelligent and active and well-rounded, and overall one of the coolest people you’ll ever get to be around. He is awesome.

When you introduce yourself to my 14 year old, and notice that he sounds “different”, please don’t make assumptions about his intelligence or his abilities. He is smart and skillful and creative, and he has a better sense of humor than just about anyone I know. He’s the most loyal friend you could ever hope to make, and he is also one of my top 5 favorite people on the planet. And oh yes, he’s awesome.

And while I’m on the subject of assumptions:

Just so you know, I don’t fit neatly into one of those boxes either. I am a Christian who finds much of what’s cloaked in “Christian” labels abhorrent (especially when it comes to parenting). I believe in kindness to all creatures. I believe in freedom and acceptance and tolerance. I don’t raise an eyebrow at obscenities, but you’ll see me react in a big hurry if you say something disrespectful about a child, or make a racial stereotype, or a homophobic slur, or use the word “retarded” (or any of its variants) other than in the way it was intended.

Just so you know, the fact that we homeschool does not mean we’re exactly like your neighbor or your friend or your cousin who homeschools. We have our own reasons, and our own beliefs, and our own way of life.

Just so you know, you can change my mind about a whole lot of things, but not when it comes to God. Not when it comes to my kids. Not when it comes to parenting. And not when it comes to school.

Just so you know.

12 Comments

Filed under about me, acceptance, homeschooling, kids, parenting

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