Category Archives: parenting

April 27, 2014 · 11:40 AM

Five Words & Phrases We Need to Stop Saying About Moms and Motherhood

It’s a tricky thing, parenting. We’re often our own worst critics, berating ourselves for our mistakes, and second-guessing our choices. Add to that the near constant barrage of opinions from society at large, and we have a recipe for confusion, self-doubt, and self-flagellation. In this current era of blogs, social media, and instant information, we have the unique opportunity to be able to connect with and support other parents like never before. We can help each other explore new ideas. re-examine old ones, and make healthier choices for our children and families.

But we’re sabotaging the conversation, in a big way… and it might not be the way you think. The following are things I hear on my Facebook page on a regular basis, comments that are not only not helping, but are actively hurting (and in some cases, outright stopping) the dialogue on parenting, and preventing others from hearing new perspectives.

1. Mommy Wars – You guys. We really need to retire this phrase. “Mommy Wars” just don’t exist. There is only a war if you choose to engage in one. Motherhood is a journey, not a competition, and every mother you meet is going to be in a different place in her journey. If you come across a person or an article or a blog post with a different opinion than your own (which, by the way, is not the same thing as a “war”), and it makes you angry, you have a CHOICE. Every time. Remember, you don’t have to attend every fight you’re invited to. You can walk away. You can realize that one person’s perspective is not the same thing as a personal attack on you. You can take an honest look at yourself and try to determine why your feelings and reactions were so strong in the first place. You can open yourself up to learning something new. You can use it to further your own dialogue on good parenting. Oftentimes the best, most productive discussions arise from people who disagree and can do so kindly…. people who can put aside their own egos, discuss the issue at hand, and learn from it. But that can only happen if you stop crying, “Mommy wars!” every time someone has a contrary opinion to your own. We are not in a war, and continuing to insist that we are only stops you from being able to move forward.

2. “Sanctimommy” – This ridiculous word is like “Mommy Wars”‘s modern day cousin. A mom shares an opinion or a perspective or a counter to some popular bit of advice, and toes get stepped on. A nerve is struck, and someone inevitably says it: “Stop being such a SANCTIMOMMY!” It is silly and juvenile. No good ever comes from name-calling. Let’s just start there. It’s pretty much just good manners 101. Beyond that though is this pervasive belief that the sharing of an opinion that may make you uncomfortable is the same thing as being sanctimonious, or judgmental, or out to prove that “my way is better than your way.” This is not a competition. (See number one) Just a couple of nights ago, I shared a popular parenting article about a “creative” way to ground your kids, along with my reasons for choosing to do things differently. A respectful conversation followed, until it was abruptly interrupted with, “You need to butt the hell out of other people’s lives. Stop being so judgmental, and making others feel inferior.” Clearly, I struck a chord. But here’s the thing: I can’t make someone feel inferior. Can’t do it. No one can. The only person who’s in charge of how she feels is the person who owns said feelings. If you’re feeling judged or uncomfortable from something you’ve read, those are your feelings to have and to examine. Sharing opinions does not equate to being sanctimonious and judgmental, and frankly, if it did, the accuser in this scenario would be just as guilty as the accused (actually, moreso, because she was rude on top of it.) Do people ever share things in an inflammatory way? Sure. And if and when it happens, we can choose to walk away. Let’s stop this. Let’s choose to stop taking everything as a personal attack. Let’s choose to assume positive intent. Let’s choose to help one another. Let’s choose to actually dialogue. Let’s choose to stop throwing around words like “Sanctimommy” and “judgmental.” The reason I continue to write about parenting issues (quite honestly, sometimes the only reason) is that I want to help new and/or questioning parents to find healthy ways to have closer, more joyful, more connected relationships with their kids. The only way any of us can do that is through conversation…. conversations that peel apart ideas, question the status quo, and really dig into why we do and do not make certain parenting decisions. Effective conversations simply cannot be had with people who come out of the gate calling names and making inflammatory accusations, and such behavior does nothing to help other parents.

3. To each his own. I completely understand why people say this. I do. It’s important to respect individual decisions when those decisions aren’t infringing on anyone else. And there are many, many areas in which it could apply…. what a family chooses for education; where they live; whether or not they choose to practice a religion; what kind of jobs they have, and whether or not they choose to have both parents working or one of them staying home. Etc. But “to each his own” can be a remarkably unhelpful comment when it comes to parenting, and this is why: it encourages complacency, a shrugging of the shoulders, and an attitude of “Eh, whatever works for them.” And when kids are being treated in disrespectful ways, we should never be satisfied with complacency. Children unfortunately aren’t often given a voice. We have to be that voice on their behalf. A lot of times parents aren’t aware of alternatives. A lot of times they haven’t received the support or the resources to realize that they have other options. A lot of times they just haven’t stepped outside themselves long enough to really see what it is they’re doing, why they’re doing it, or what kind of effect it’s having on their relationship with their children. The way – the only way – we can help each other with solutions is by talking about it. And that can’t happen if the conversation is summarily dismissed with a flippant “to each his own.”

4. Different methods work for different kids. I understand why people say this too. I have four very different children, which is what I imagine parents are referring to when they say things like this. But while they all have different personalities, different ways of relating with myself and others, and different learning styles, my core value of aspiring to parent gently and with respect remains unchanged among the four of them. Much like “to each his own,” falling back on a “different methods work for different kids” as a reason to spank for instance, can lead to a failure to investigate other options. People will tell you that some kids need to be spanked, but that is not the case when you’re aware of alternatives. And while lots of things may “work” in the moment, it doesn’t mean they are the healthiest, most respectful choices. As an aside, my one child who conventional parenting would have dictated “needed” to be spanked is now the most gentle, laid-back teenager you could ever hope to meet. Our kids are not ours to experiment with. They are human beings, and our “method” of relating to them should be treated with the same care, attention, and respect as it would with any other loved one. Our efforts are best put towards partnering with them and helping them come up with solutions, not in trying out new ways to punish them.

5. I was _________ and I turned out fine.

Oh how this one frustrates me. Often used in defense of spanking, it rings as a very strange and stubborn refusal to learn something new. First, I would argue that if you’re advocating for something like using physical force against a small human being who is 1/4 of your size, you’re probably not as fine as you believe. Secondly, don’t we want better than “fine” for our own kids? I know I do! Previous generations have done all kinds of things that we now know to do differently. Babies used to be held on their parents laps in cars, not secured in car seats. We now know that car seats save lives. I used to drive my bike all over creation without a helmet. We now know that helmets save lives, too. My mother in law tells a story of how she remembers being in the hospital after giving birth to my husband (in the 70’s)…. her new baby in one arm, and a lit cigarette in the other. Of course, that’s no longer allowed, because we know that it’s not exactly good for the baby. And I say this not to fault our parents…. not at all! I have great parents. My husband has great parents. Like the rest of us, they loved their kids and did their best with the information that they had at the time. But one of the wonderful things about life is that there are always new things to learn, always new information to be absorbed. And when we know better, we should do better. To refuse to do so in an effort to cling to old ways is categorically unfair… unfair to ourselves, unfair to our kids, and unfair to the generation that’s coming up behind them. We can do better. We can always do better.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Despite the naysayers who continually try to get me to feel otherwise, I have faith in my fellow moms. I do. I believe that everyone reading this is smart, and strong, and willing to cut through the BS, drop the ego, and ask the hard questions. I believe that we can put our focus on parenting, and parenting well; and that we can do away with the unhelpful words and comments up above, which, at the end of the day, are nothing more than noise.

10 Comments

Filed under gentle discipline, gentle parenting, mindful parenting, 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

November 22, 2013 · 3:46 PM

How (and why) I opted out of being the meanest mom in the world

People often send me parenting articles that they come across on the internet, wanting to know my take on them. This one (titled How (and why) to be the meanest mom in the world) landed in my inbox just last night, and I knew immediately I’d have to write about it. First, it’s a list. I’m a sucker for lists, and a list I can refute point by point? That makes me all kinds of giddy. More than that though, is the nerve that this idea strikes in my heart…. this pernicious and widespread belief that what kids need more of is meanness, and control, and “tough love.” I think they need very much the opposite. What kids need is connection with their parents.

It also bothers me to see, again and again, parents being told that kids need to be MADE to do the right thing, FORCED to make good decisions, and TOLD to behave in a certain way. Is this how little we think of our kids?That they wouldn’t possibly do those things on their own unless there was coercion of some sort?

And I get it. I do. The post was written slightly tongue-in-cheek, and I’m sure that the mom who wrote it is not actually “mean” to her kids. I’m also sure that, like me, she loves her kids, and only wants the best for them.

But that’s where the similarity ends. Because just as I never uses phrases like “pick my battles” with my kids (my children and I are partners, not adversaries) I also never want to gauge my parenting skill set on how “mean” I’m being. Words matter. Intentions matter.

And so …. kindness. When in doubt, I always try to choose kindness.

What follows is her “how to be mean” list, and how I would re-write it with kindness in mind.

One last note before I get to the list though. The intro to her article says this:

When your kids tell you you’re mean, take it as a compliment. The rising generation have been called the laziest, rudest, most entitled kids in history. Don’t give up. They may think you’re mean now, but they’ll thank you later.

This is not something new. Every generation has called the one rising up behind them the laziest, rudest, most entitled kids in history. Every generation has shaken their collective heads and lamented “the problem with kids these days.” This has been going on forever. So I don’t believe for a second this idea that this particular generation is worse in some way than the ones that came before it. But even if it was? The answer is kindness and compassion…. not a renewed effort to be more “mean.”

1. Make your kids go to bed at a reasonable time. Is there really anyone who hasn’t heard how important a good night’s rest is to a child’s success? Be the parent and put your kid to bed.

My version: Help your kids learn to respect their bodies’ cues for tiredness (as well as hunger, thirst, etc) and make your home and their environment one that’s conducive to rest. A good night’s rest IS important. This much is true. But what that looks like is different for each child, just as it is for each adult. Is “making” your child go to bed before he/she is ready, and possibly turning it into a point of contention, going to instill in them a healthy relationship with sleep in the future? Sleep should be something pleasant, something that’s looked forward to at the end of the day… not something to be put into your “mean” arsenal. Work with your child on this, not against him. As homeschoolers, we’re fortunate in that we can accommodate everyone’s sleep schedule’s, even if they’re not conventional. But even in families where kids go to school, sleep can – and should! – be approached kindly, respectfully, and keeping each individual’s unique needs in mind.

2. Don’t give your kids dessert every day. Sweets should be saved for special occasions. That’s what makes them a “treat.” If you give in to your child’s demands for goodies all the time, he won’t appreciate the gesture when someone offers a sweet gift or reward.

My version: Enjoy your desserts, whenever you may have them. Food should not be an area of contention either. It makes me nervous (both as a gentle parent and as a nutritional consultant) when I see people making rules about when/why/how often certain foods should be eaten. It’s a good way to set up a lifelong unhealthy and unbalanced relationship with food. A cookie’s just a cookie. We don’t have dessert every day, but not because of any house rules against it. We just don’t want it every day. And when we do want it? We have it, even if we just had it the night before. If we’re craving brownies, we bake some. If we want ice cream, we go out and get it. If one of my kids asked to go to the dollar store for some Red Vines, I’d drive them. Most of our daily diet consists of things like fish, fresh fruit, veggies, nuts and yogurt. I’m certainly not going to stress out over some sweets. As for “giving in to “demands””? There’s no “demanding” going on here. Requests occasionally? Sure. And their requests are as respected as mine and my husband’s. And yes, they still very much appreciate the gesture when someone offers a gift… a sweet one or otherwise.

3. Make them pay for their own stuff. If you want something, you have to pay for it. That’s the way adult life works.

My version: Empower them and help them pay for their own stuff. Again with the word, “make.” This is the second of five times that she uses that phrase, “Make them…” Kids don’t need to be made to spend or save their own money in order to learn about it. All four of our kids get some money every other week, on payday. It’s theirs, to save or spend as they see fit. We buy them things that they’re wanting or needing as we are able, but they love knowing that they can buy their own things as well, whether it’s a $1.50 soda from the drug store, or a pair of $60 headphones for their computer. All four of them have healthy relationships with money, enjoy both saving and spending, and take pride of ownership in the things that they’ve purchased on their own.

4. Don’t pull strings. Some kids get a rude awakening when they get a job and realize that the rules actually do apply to them.

My version: When faced with a difficult or less than ideal situation, model for your children the best ways to handle it. I have to admit, I found this one a little…. odd. Adults pull strings and use contacts for themselves all the time, and the ones that I know are pretty darn proud of it too. But if it’s not something you want for your child, don’t do it yourself. As for whether or not it’s the right or wrong thing to do? I guess it would depend on the person and the circumstance. I do know this though: If I’m ever put in a position of being able to help my kids, or purposely stay out of it for no other reason than to “teach them a lesson”, I will help them. Every time. If they’re not doing something that’s damaging to themselves or others, I’m on their side.

5. Make them do hard things. Don’t automatically step-in and take over when things get hard. Nothing gives your kids a bigger self-confidence boost than sticking to it and accomplishing something difficult.

My version: Encourage and support them when they’re faced with hard things. Sticking with something and accomplishing a personal goal are powerful things indeed. But again, kids don’t need to be “made” to do them. Confident and well-adjusted kids do hard things all on our their own… when it is important to them. Our job as parents is to encourage them and cheer them on, and let them see us determinedly pursuing our own goals as well.

6. Give them a watch and an alarm clock. Your child will be better off if he learns the responsibility of managing his own time. You’re not always going to be there to remind her to turn off the TV and get ready to go.

My version: Give them a watch and an alarm clock. Sure, why not? They’re useful tools when kids are wanting and able to learn to use them. They are not, however, behavior modification tools. Both my older boys have started using alarms for various reasons, all on their own… whether they want to adjust their sleep schedules, get up at a certain time because they need to be somewhere, or meet a friend for a Skype or Minecraft date.

7. Don’t always buy the latest and greatest. Teach your children gratitude for, and satisfaction with, the things they have. Always worrying about the next big thing and who already has it will lead to a lifetime of debt and unhappiness.

My version: To this one, I would only add…. if you can’t afford it. Living to simply “keep up with Joneses” is a sad (and futile) way to live for sure. There’s always going to be someone with more. And going into debt to get the next best thing is most definitely not a legacy you want to pass down to your children. But your own attitude towards money and possessions and “stuff”, and your own gratitude and appreciation for what you have is going to make a far bigger impact on your kids than what you do or do not have in the way of belongings.

8. Let them feel loss. If your child breaks a toy, don’t replace it. He’ll learn a valuable lesson about taking care of his stuff.

My version: When your child feels loss, commiserate with him. My very first thought upon reading this one was, “As a parent, do you not replace your things when they break?” Accidents happen. I know first hand the sadness and frustration when a treasured item is broken or ruined, whether it was due to carelessness or just plain rotten luck. It feels terrible! When it’s happened to me as an adult, I’ve replaced the item when I was financially able, and took even greater care with the new one. I give my kids the same consideration. The lesson doesn’t lie in deliberately depriving him of replacing it…. the lesson happened as soon as it broke.

9. Control media. If all the other parents let their child jump off a bridge, would you? Don’t let your kids watch a show or play a video game that is inappropriate for children just because all their friends have done it.

My version: Make informed and conscientious decisions for and with your children. I would never do or not do something based on what other parents are doing. The author and I agree on that point completely. But all kids are different. All families are different. What might be “inappropriate” for one child could be totally benign to another.

10. Make them apologize. If your child does something wrong, make her fess up and face the consequences. Don’t brush rudeness, bullying or dishonesty under the rug.

My version: Apologize. You know how kids learn to sincerely apologize? When someone they love and looks up to sincerely apologizes. You know how kids learn not to be rude, bullying, or dishonest? When they have parents who don’t display things such as rudeness, bullying, and dishonesty.

11. Mind their manners. Even small children can learn the basics of how to treat another human with respect and dignity.

My version: Mind YOUR manners. Say please and thank you. Say excuse me. Apologize when it’s warranted. Be kind and polite to strangers and family members alike. Treat others with respect. Children who live among people with good manners, LEARN good manners.

12. Make them work — for free. Whether it’s helping Grandma in the garden or volunteering to tutor younger kids, make service a part of your child’s life.

Oh, this makes me sad. My version: Show them what service to others looks like. If you want your children to develop a spirit of giving (and I want that for my kids too!) LIVE it. Let them help you help others. Do kind things for them and with them. Look for ways to bless other people. If you make it a way of life, they will learn it. If you make them work for others, you deny them the opportunity to do it of their own volition.

And if there’s one thing that I’ve learned from my kids, it’s that they have huge, huge hearts. Sometimes we get – and need! – to just stand back and watch them use them.

35 Comments

Filed under gentle parenting, mindful parenting, parenting

November 18, 2013 · 12:19 PM

Child Abuse Cloaked in “Christian Discipline”… Another Death at the Hands of Pearl Followers

I am writing this as my children sleep.

My four children, who, while they’ve surely never had perfect parents, have never had parents that they’ve feared. I wish, I so badly wish, that that was the case in all homes. I wish that all well-meaning parents who loved their children would just – at a minimum – let their children know that they are safe. That their home is their sanctuary. That their parents will protect them from harm, that they will never have to go to bed or wake up or spend a single day of their lives in FEAR.

That is, heartbreakingly, not the case.

Last week, Larry and Carri Williams of Washington State were found guilty of the murder of their little daughter, Hana. They are the third couple to be found guilty of murder after employing the child-abuse techniques in the “Christian” parenting book, To Train Up a Child by Michael and Debi and Pearl.

The first was four year old Sean Paddock, in 2006. His death was followed by seven year old Lydia Schatz in 2010.

Remember those names, please.

Sean Paddock. Lydia Schatz. And now Hana Williams. These are innocent children who were killed at the hands of their parents, the ones who were supposed to be protecting them. Even worse – can murdering your child even GET worse? It can. – they were killed at the hands of their parents who were following “discipline” techniques they believed to be “biblical.”

Don’t like to think about something awful? Want to look away? Find yourself thinking, “Yes, it’s sad, and terrible, and heartbreaking, but no good could come from constantly talking about it.”?

To that I say BULLSHIT.

We owe it to Sean Paddock to think about it. We owe it to Lydia Schatz to look at it. We owe it to Hana Williams to talk about it. We owe it to all the children who are subjected to this kind of treatment day in and day out.

Michael Pearl, and his 1.7 million dollar “ministry”, No Greater Joy, take money from unsuspecting Christians, instruct them how to abuse their children, and somehow brainwash them into thinking that this is behavior is not only condoned but commanded and blessed by God.

God does not want you to hit your children. Jesus does not want you to inflict pain on your children.

THIS BOOK IS NOT CHRISTIAN.

And I won’t keep quiet about this. I won’t. Michael Pearl is out there laughing, laughing, as children die. Taken from his Facebook page in response to criticism after Lydia Schatz died:

It has come to may attention that a vocal few are decrying our sensible application of the Biblical rod in training up our children. I laugh at my caustic critics, for our properly spanked and trained children grow to maturity in great peace and love…

Numbered in the millions, these kids become the models of self-control and discipline, highly educated and creative—entrepreneurs that pay the taxes your children will receive in entitlements…

My five grown children are laughing at your foolish, uninformed criticism of God’s method of child training, for their kids—my 17 grandkids—are laughing . . . because that is what they do most of the time. They laugh when Daddy is coming home. The laugh when it is time to do more homeschooling. They laugh when it is time to practice the violin and piano. They laugh when they see their Big Papa coming (that’s me) because Big Papa is laughing and they don’t care why just as long as he laughs with them.

My granddaughters laugh with joy after giving their baby dolls a spanking for “being naughty” because they know their dolls will grow up to be the best mamas and daddies in the world—just like them….

Even my chickens are laughing . . . well, actually it more like cackling, because they just laid another organic egg for my breakfast and they know that it was that same piece of ¼ inch plastic supply line that trained the dogs not to eat chicken….

And before you can say it, this is not about “free speech.” I’ve heard it from too many people. “He has the right to say whatever he wants. If you don’t like his books, don’t buy them”. No. NO! This is about a man using and twisting and manipulating the Bible for his own sick gain. A man who has created an entire empire around teaching people how to intimidate, manipulate, bully, abuse, and in the case of Paddock, Schatz, and Williams, kill their children.

A selection of direct quotes from the first edition of To Train Up a Child:

But for her own good, we attempted to train her not to climb the stairs by coordinating the voice command of “No” with little spats on the bare legs. The switch was a twelve-inch long, one-eighth-inch diameter sprig from a willow tree.

He may not be able to sleep, but he can be trained to lie there quietly. He will very quickly come to know that any time he is laid down there is no alternative but to stay put. To get up is to be on the firing line and get switched back down.

If a father is attempting to make a child eat his oats, and the child cries for his mother, then the mother should respond by spanking him for whining for her and for not eating his oats. He will then be glad to be dealing only with the father.

…use whatever force is necessary to bring him to bay. If you have to sit on him to spank him then do not hesitate. And hold him there until he is surrendered. Prove that you are bigger, tougher, more patiently enduring and are unmoved by his wailing. Defeat him totally. Accept no conditions for surrender. No compromise. You are to rule over him as a benevolent sovereign. Your word is final.

On the bare legs or bottom, switch him eight or ten licks; then, while waiting for the pain to subside, speak calm words of rebuke. If the crying turns to a true, wounded, submissive whimper, you have conquered; he has submitted his will. If the crying is still defiant, protesting and other than a response to pain, spank him again.

(All quotes from this post on the website, Why Not Train a Child.)

Have you read enough yet? It’s beyond time to do something. Don’t stop talking about it. Don’t stop sharing posts about it.

Sign the petition to remove their book from Amazon.

Grab this button from Muse Mama and display it on your own site:

If you are a fellow Christian (and it’s for you especially that I write), let your voice be louder than the Pearl’s followers. Let people know that to raise a child in a Christ-like way, to truly “train up a child in the way he should go”, is to parent with kindness, gentleness, and compassion… the complete and utter opposite of what’s promoted by Michael and Debi Pearl.

(I also wrote about the Pearls here.)

28 Comments

Filed under bible, faith, gentle discipline, gentle parenting, headlines, hot topics, mindful parenting, parenting, Pearls

September 10, 2013 · 10:38 AM

Muddy Bathrooms: More Lessons from my Daughter

It rained yesterday. It rained HARD. It was the kind of much-needed ridiculous, relentless, driving rain that gave us exactly two options: Play in it, or hole up inside for a day of Netflix-watching and eating stuff.

We did both.

After a wild and watery game of tag in the lake previously known as our backyard

When we came inside, I was hit with a heavy case of the Mondays, and wanted nothing more than to just sit for awhile. There was laundry to do, and floors to sweep, and bathrooms to clean, but first…. sitting. Lots of sitting. When I realized that Tegan had gone back outside, and was happily involved in her own project (and had been for quite some time) I mustered up the energy to take advantage of the quiet and get a little housework done:

Pop in some laundry. Run the vacuum. Sweep the hall. I did the bathrooms – my least favorite thing – last, and once they were sparkling to my liking, I headed back to my chair to resume my sitting. I passed Tegan on the way; a joyful little blur of pink and mud. Heavy on the mud.

I found her in the bathroom I’d just cleaned about 18 seconds earlier. In her split second head start, she’d gotten mud on the floor, mud on the toilet, mud on the mirror, mud on the counter, mud in the sink. She was happily chatting away as she ran the water and filled up the sink, gently washing the mud off the Barbie that had just gotten a head-to-toe mud treatment at the Spa of Tegan.

“You little stinker. I just cleaned the bathroom!” Only I didn’t say it. I wanted to say it. I almost said it. In countless other similar situations, I’d said it. But this time, in that moment …. I saw her. I really saw her. Happy. Healthy. Innocent. Chatting about her Barbie and how much she’d liked her mud bath. Talking about how black the water was getting. Wondering out loud what she was going to play when she was done.

I am so lucky.

And if I’d commented about the mess, even in a joking and lighthearted way, it might have stolen a piece of that moment. It might have taken away a piece of that joy. It might have prevented me from seeing, from really being there.

Yes, it’s a lesson I’m destined to learn over and over and over, but it’s an important one. And she teaches it better than anyone I know.

I said nothing about the mess, and when I did clean it up I was able to do it with a genuine smile. I will clean the bathroom, even if I just cleaned it.

I will clean it again. If it means happy and healthy and curious kids, I will clean it a thousand times.

5 Comments

Filed under not sweating the small stuff, parenting, perspective, Tegan

August 19, 2013 · 6:00 AM

Asked and Answered

I recently put out a call for questions. Questions about unschooling, parenting, me, my blog, whatever you’d like … and you guys rose to the occasion! Here’s the first batch of questions and answers, and the first of what I hope will become a regular feature on my blog. If you have questions, send em, and I’ll answer them in an upcoming post. 🙂

I would love to hear some thoughts on how far to push little kids to do things? I know it would be age dependent, but I’m thinking ages 1-5 especially. Eg if a child is shy or scared or anti-social or clingy or negative about doing something where’s the line with making them do it, or respecting their feelings. Sometimes in life it’s good to do things we don’t want to. How do we help kids understand that?

I think this is one of those times that really knowing your kids is key. I personally wouldn’t push my kids into doing something they didn’t want do… but there is a world of difference between forcing something that’s unwanted, and gently encouraging when you know it’s something that they do want, but are hesitant because they are nervous, unsure, etc. Last summer, my daughter (four years old at the time) took her first-ever swimming class. She was very excited about the class, and about learning to swim. The morning of the first class however, she was super nervous, to the point of asking if she could skip it. I know my daughter, and I was 99% sure that once she got in the class she would really enjoy it. I was also 99% sure that if she didn’t do the class that she would regret it, especially when she watched her big brother having fun in the pool in his own class. So I was honest with her and told her, “I know you’re nervous, but I think you’re really go to love it. And you can do it! I bet they’re going to make it super fun for you, and I’ll be right there watching the whole time. Why don’t you give it a try this one time, and if you don’t like it, you don’t have to come back.” I wasn’t bluffing either: I would have had no problem pulling her out, and letting her learn in another way. She agreed to try it, and to make a long story short, she LOVED the class, and has since become a fish in the water.

Yes, sometimes we need to do things we don’t want to do, but life provides plenty of those opportunities all on its own. I don’t think it’s my job as a mother to actually provide the things they don’t want to do, but to help them feel safe, comfortable, and confident when they do arise. Going to the dentist for instance isn’t super high on any of my kids’ “Things I love to do” lists, but sometimes it’s necessary. So we searched until we found a wonderfully kind, patient, and respectful pediatric dentist, and no one has any issues seeing her when the time comes.

I don’t have a school age child yet, but am very interested in unschooling. I have been wondering if you felt you did anything differently with your children before they were school age. I’m reading a lot about the RIE philosophy and some of it seems to be in line with the basic idea of trust that seems inherent in unschooling to me. Thank you!

I learned something new when I got this question, so thanks! 🙂 I hadn’t heard of RIE, so I Googled a little bit. (This article had a nice breakdown of its main tenets.) I connect with a lot – not all – of the principles of RIE. I think that the ideas of trust, respect, choices, and personal autonomy are so important to both unschooling and gentle parenting. As for whether or not I did anything different when the kids were young… only to the extent that our relationships/activities/conversations grew and evolved as the kids got older. For me, unschooling was just a natural extension of attachment parenting, and it was all so organic that I never really had a feeling of, “Okay, we’re going to start unschooling now.” We already were… they just weren’t officially school age yet. I do strongly feel (and many others feel this way as well) that unschooling can’t be truly understood and implemented until the parenting component is understood. Once you “get” gentle parenting, unschooling just makes sense… and it’s a much more seamless transition than if you try to do it the other way around.

What advice would you give an unschooling mom whose 5 yr old is begging to start kindergarten?

Ask lots of questions! What is it that they’re wanting from school that they don’t think they’ll get/are getting from home? Is it more time on crafts? Riding a school bus? Being around other kids? Recess? It could be something really simple, especially at five years old. Most of my kids have at one time or another asked about school. After a conversation, careful listening, and honest sharing, I learned that it wasn’t school they were after, but something else. Something that I could remedy through more playdates, more field trips, more one on one time, etc. If that were ever not the case, and they truly wanted to go to school, I’d like to think that I would be 100% supportive and let them try it. I can’t say with complete certainty though, because I’ve never been there (and if I’ve learned nothing else as a parent, it’s to never say “never”)

(on being a Christian who does not regularly go to church) I’m wondering how you keep the faith? How do you keep your relationship with God fresh and alive? Have you found a community, a “body of Christ”?

I love this question. I have been thinking for a long time about writing a permanent page for my blog about my faith, and about where that journey has taken me. I will say first that my faith has always been super personal to me. Not personal in an I-don’t-want-to-talk-about it kind of way (I love talking about it), but personal in that I’ve never really felt like I needed a strictly “Christian” environment in order to nurture my relationship with God. In fact: I grew up going to church, went to a Christian summer camp, went to a Christian college… and those were all things that I had to heal from in many ways as an adult. I felt like my faith was so much stronger, and finally my OWN, after I left those environments. We do have a church “home” now, although it’s been many months since we’ve gone with regularity. We love the church though, and it was the first one that we ever actually chose to place membership with since we’ve been married. When we feel like it’s something we’re needing, we go, but on a day-to-day basis, I don’t know… I feel like it’s just me and God, and that relationship is no different than any other in that it stays alive with attention, with intention, and with spending time together (and you don’t have to be in a special building to do that :))

One thing that’s been hugely instrumental to me in the past several years has been finding like-minded fellow “outside the box” Christians, most of whom I only know online. While I don’t feel like I technically need the support of others to hold up my own faith, it’s incredibly helpful just to know that they’re out there: other people like me who fiercely love Jesus, but pretty steadfastly reject most of what conventional “religion” has to offer… Everyone from big authors/bloggers like John Shore, to dear personal friends that I’ve made through various online FB groups and forums…they’re a very appreciated breath of fresh air (and sometimes just straight-up oxygen), especially on those days when I’m feeling alone.

So our kid is 3 and we are starting to get questions about Kindergarten. I am scared to death to tell some people what we are planning!!! It does not help that I work FT and my husband stays at home with our son, which already gets enough looks as it is because it is so different. I am just scared in a year or two we’ll get people calling CPS on us or something. Some of our family is very academically minded and I am just afraid they will think we are setting our son up for failure or something. I’m just not good at confrontation. I know all the answers ‘in my heart’ but I know when accosted about it… I just don’t know quite how to deal with it. How do you deal with that type of thing, esp when you first kid ‘missed the bus’ (haha) for the first time.

I completely know how you’re feeling! I was there myself several years ago. I was fairly lucky in that even though many of the people in my immediate family were not particularly supportive of unschooling, they kept pretty quiet about it (save for a passive aggressive comment here and there). One of the most helpful pieces of advice I ever read on the subject was something called the “bean dip” approach, a completely non-confrontational way to deal with naysayers. I wish I knew where I read it, and who said it, so I could give credit, but all I remember is that I read it on some unschooling forums many years ago. It goes like this:

Family member: (Negative/derogatory/judging comment)

Response: “Oh, he’s doing great! Can you please pass the bean dip?”

“This is working really well for our family right now. Can you please pass the bean dip?”

“That’s an interesting perspective. Can you please pass the bean dip?”

Politely changing the subject can work wonders. Honestly though, the biggest solution to this problem is just time. Two really big things happen over time:

1. Your kids learn and grow and mature in ways that can’t help but be seen, even by those outside your family. They’ll see how much they’re learning, and they’ll have tangible “proof” of unschooling’s success. And

2. You’ll gain confidence in your kids, and confidence in the process. It won’t be so scary when others disagree, because you’ll trust unschooling, you’ll trust your children, and you’ll trust their learning process. In the meantime, focus on your own little family, and be ready to pass the bean dip. 🙂

I read that you almost went to the Rethinking Everything conference and I’d be interested to read a post/answer on conferences you’ve went to in the past and how you think they benefited you and your kids.

I really love unschooling conferences. I find them sort of terrifying, just because… well, introverts and large crowds… but I love them too. We’ve only been to a handful so far, but definitely plan to attend more in the future. We’ve gone to three of the big conferences (two in San Diego, and one in Alburquerque), and a few smaller ones. Conferences are really cool for lots of reasons, but if I were pressed to name only a few, they would be:

1. New information. You can’t go to an unschooling conference and not learn something new. You can’t. I don’t care who you are, or how long you’ve been unschooling. We’ve all learned so, so much from the conferences we’ve gone to… both from the official scheduled “talks”, and incidental interactions we had along the way.

2. New friends. Some of my nearest and dearest friends are people I met at conferences. The 12 year old is playing an online game with a conference friend as I write. And there’s something big to be said just for being around other people who “get it”, even if it’s only for a weekend. Which brings me to:

3. New inspiration. In case you didn’t get this from reading other posts on my blog, I am hugely passionate about unschooling. But while my normal mode of sharing may be quietly standing on a street corner (or typing in my pajamas that I’ve been wearing for two days, sitting on my couch as it were) saying, “Yay! Unschooling!”, immediately following a conference it’s more like standing on the rooftops shouting,

“WOOO HOOOOOOO!!!! UNSCHOOLING!!!!!!!”

They just get you pumped up, and fired up, and EXCITED about unschooling.

All of that to say, if you ever get the opportunity (and you should make the opportunity) go! You will love it.

Sounds silly but what pets do you guys have now? I miss your funny animal posts!

My husband and I disagree on exactly two things: politics and pets. If it were solely up to me, we would have to build a second house to hold all the cats/dogs/rabbits/rats/reptiles we’d acquire because I so love animals, and can never resist a rescue-able furry (or scaly) face when I see one. If it were up to Mike, we would have zero pets. Ever. Rescued from anywhere. So we compromise. Right now, we have just a few pets – although the kids and I are holding out hope for a turtle in the near future.

There’s Sophie, who with the exception of jumping, and sometimes peeing, when she gets too excited, is the world’s most perfect dog.

Then there’s Linny and Ming-Ming, the two mice I picked up with the kids one day when Mike was at work:

And finally, our ball python Waldo, who is sweet and funny, and loves to hang upside-down from his branch:

And that’s it! We have about 1900 square feet of house here. Clearly there’s room for so very many more….

Thanks to everyone who have sent questions so far! That was fun.

4 Comments

Filed under about me, faith, parenting, pets, Q and A, unschooling

August 14, 2013 · 6:00 AM

On Knowing Better

Last night, a parenting page I follow on Facebook posted the (highly loaded) question, “What are your thoughts on circumcision?” I replied with the same answer I’ve given for the past 15 years:

It’s harmful and unnecessary. And if it’s not your penis, it’s not your decision.

I’m not sure why I answered it, as I generally stay fairly far away from such threads. Just a quick skim of the other responses reminded me why. They hurt. I cringed as I read reply after reply, ironically from people (like myself) who are against the practice of circumcision. I finally stopped reading when I got to, “Anyone who would do this to their child is a piece of shit.”

We chose to have our first son circumcised. I so wish that that was not the case, but it is. We made an uninformed decision. We consented to a medically unnecessary cosmetic surgery on a newborn. A surgery to remove a perfectly healthy, functional part of our son’s body. A surgery that carries real risks, including death, and a surgery that was not our choice to make. I think that’s the part that haunts me the most: that we thought, even for a second, that we had the right to alter someone else’s genitals?

But we made that decision, and we can’t un-make it. So I know – I know – the pain that comes from the harsh comments. I do. I know what it feels like to read those threads and be called a “piece of shit”, and a terrible parent, and a child abuser.

I cringe because it digs at the deepest regrets, the biggest hurts, and the most painful mistakes. I cringe because there is so much room for gentleness, for kindness, even in advocacy. I cringe because strong words turn people away, because the message is obliterated in the delivery.

I cringe because while there is much room for kindness, for gentleness, for compassion… there is room for truth too. And people aren’t going to hear the truth if they’re too sucker-punched with regret.

It doesn’t have to be circumcision either. Substitute spanking. Or crying it out. Or the way we approach education. Or food. Or bedtime. Or any of the other decisions, large and small, that we make for our children every day. I don’t care who you are, or what you believe, but at some point in your parenting journey, you’re going to receive new information, and you’re going to be faced with the question, “Did I make a colossal mistake here?” And sometimes the answer is “no.” Sometimes you’ve done everything right, and the problem is your own insecurity.

But sometimes the answer is a very very real “yes.”

It’s “yes” whether or not we’re willing to admit it. It’s “yes” whether or not someone is kind when they point it out. It’s “yes” whether or not we’re feeling judged. It’s “yes” whether or not the realization makes us feel sick and uncomfortable and icky.

We make mistakes.

We make mistakes, and we can either learn from them or we can let ourselves be governed by pride and ego and just plain stubbornness. Because facing the truth might be unpleasant and messy and hard.

But you know what? Unpleasant and messy and hard is worth it if it means you do something about it… if it means you take your new information, and make new decisions, and find better choices, and forge a different path.

Living in a place of guilt and/or regret is not an ideal place to be, which is why I’ve worked to make peace with decisions that I cannot change. But I’d still rather regret than complacency any day. Living with regret isn’t nearly as bad as living in denial, and refusing to admit that I was wrong in the first place.

______________________________________________________________________________________

TLDR: You will make mistakes. Own them. Do better.

5 Comments

Filed under parenting, Uncategorized

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

July 8, 2013 · 2:32 PM

On Being a Quitter

I stand in front of you a quitter, and an unabashed one at that.

Just a few of the bigger things I’ve quit in the past couple of decades:

I quit college when I realized it wasn’t the right path for me. I was going to college for all the wrong reasons (mostly having to do with other people’s expectations), and I realized that I was spending a lot of money on a degree that I didn’t actually want, and certainly didn’t need. So I quit.

I quit my job to become a stay-at-home-mom. This one surprised me, because prior to getting pregnant with Spencer I took for granted that I’d just take a maternity leave and head straight back to work. But then I got pregnant and I suddenly knew – with 100% certainty I might add – that I was meant to stay home. I KNEW. And that was it. So I quit.

I quit going to a church that wasn’t meeting my needs. People leave churches for all kinds of reasons, and I was no exception. There were many many factors at play for sure, but the main one was that it eventually came to light that the particular church we were going to made me feel like I was getting further away from the loving nature that God would desire from me, rather than closer to it. So I quit.

I quit living in a place that no longer felt like “home.” Again, lots of factors. And an undeniably huge decision, especially since it was one that affected a family of five (soon to be six). I’d tried to make it work. I did. But we weren’t happy, and we needed to be somewhere else. So I quit.

Perhaps more important than any of the above, I quit letting other people’s opinions matter more than my own. I quit letting others have a definitive say in what path was or was not right for me. Of what did or did not constitute success. Of what I would try or what I would start… or what I would discontinue or what I would stop… or when, or where, or for what reason. I quit letting others tell me what my parenting should look like, or my marriage should look like, or my faith should look like. I quit letting my worth be defined by my mistakes, and I quit letting my breakthroughs be overshadowed by my failures.

I hear so much today about kids and quitting, and what we’re really teaching them if we “let” them quit the baseball team that they no longer enjoy, or the Sunday school class that isn’t what they were expecting, or the violin lessons that were never their idea in the first place. They need to learn to see things through to the end! They need to learn to persevere in the face of adversity! And the thing is, when they feel confident and safe and supported, they will learn both of those things, when it’s important to them. Forcing a child to finish something that is no longer right for them may very well teach a very different lesson than the one you’d intended.

Sometimes I think that letting your child know that there are times when it’s not only okay to quit but that it’s sometimes GOOD – and healthy and smart – is one of the most important things you can ever show them.

4 Comments

Filed under about me, life, parenting

June 27, 2013 · 6:00 AM

Just Wait Till Your Kids Are Teens

“Just wait till your kids are teens.”

“It’s different with teens, you’ll see.”

“You know what TEENS are like!”

The above are just a few of the (paraphrased) comments I’ve gotten from readers who don’t realize that I already have teenagers. They’ll be negative and condescending and almost … smug … when they say things like, “Maybe gentle parenting works now, but just wait until you have teenagers. You’ll be changing your tune then.” Or, “Ha ha, I can’t wait until your kids are teenagers and you get your wakeup call.” Or, “I used to feel the same way as you, and then I had teens.”

Now, setting aside the fact that essentially rooting for me to fail as a parent is a lousy thing to do, comments like this just further perpetuate the unfair negative stereotype that far too many people hold about teens. Teens are rebellious, teens are sullen, teens are entitled, teens hate their parents. Teens are rude, arrogant, eye-rolling, miscreants. Did I get them all? Society’s villification of teens is real, and it’s not okay.

If you expect teens (or really, anyone) to behave in a negative way, what kind of behavior do you suppose you’ll see? The negative!

The opposite is true as well. When you expect kindness… when you give kindness… you get kindness in return.

At the time of this writing, Spencer is 16; and Paxton, though he won’t technically turn 13 until August, has – due to both his maturity and the fact that he has physically towered over me for almost a year now – felt like an honorary teen for at least the past 6 months. I am enjoying them now as much as I ever have, if not moreso. And it’s not that I don’t enjoy the younger ages. I do. It’s just that there’s something really really cool about getting to relate to them on a whole new level, getting more and more glimpses into the men that they’ll become, and getting to watch as they grow into these cool, funny, thoughtful young adults.

It makes me sad to see such broad misconceptions about teens out there, and to see so many people accept it as a given that their parent/child relationship is going to suffer once puberty hits. It doesn’t have to be that way. And if you keep the lines of communication open.. if you talk with your kids.. if you LISTEN to your kids.. if you respect your kids.. if you give your kids space.. if you let your kids make choices… there is no reason to think or to assume that the teen years can’t be just as happy and fun and connected as the years leading up to it.

Are there bumps along the way? Are there new issues to work through, new growth to be had as a parent? Are there challenges? Of course! It’s a crazy time, being a teenager. There are big questions, and big feelings, and big ideas. There are raging hormones, and body changes, and new relationships… all to be dealt with with one foot still in childhood, and one foot reaching, reaching out into the great vastness of “adulthood.” I remember being a teenager well, and it was not easy. Nothing about it was easy. Wouldn’t it follow then that as parents we should be more kind and more patient and more compassionate during those years of transition instead of less? Instead of subscribing to this idea that teens are somehow “less than”? Instead of sighing and huffing and joining in on the common refrain of complaining about “these teens today?”

Shouldn’t we be embracing them?

As I sit here and look at those comments I opened with, I can’t help but think of the good that could come from reading them with positive intent instead of the way they were said to me:

“Just wait till your kids are teens.” Yes, just wait. You will love it! Teens are fun and interesting and full of great ideas, great insights, and great conversation.

“It’s different with teens, you’ll see.” Yes, very different. They use the bathroom and bathe all by themselves. They make their own sandwiches. They’re able to have big discussions about things like politics and religion and what happened on last week’s Dexter. They astound you with their maturity one minute, and crack you up with their child-like antics the next.

“You know what TEENS are like!” Yes, yes I do. Teens rock.

Anybody who’s fortunate enough to be able to parent or befriend a teenager is a lucky person indeed.

22 Comments

Filed under gentle parenting, mindful parenting, misconceptions, parenting, teens

Category Archives: parenting

Connect With Me

Archives