Category Archives: parenting

October 6, 2012 · 9:13 AM

Rules vs Principles: Sometimes We Jump on the Bed

A week or two ago, I got the following email:

I’ve been reading a lot of Sandra Dodd’s stuff on rules vs principles. I understand the concept that there’s a difference, but I just can’t imagine how it works. I came from a family where there was literally a new rule every week. My dad’s favorite saying was, “Okay, new rule!” Then he would commence to tell us what annoyed him that week and what we can’t do anymore. So understandably, I don’t know how to parent without lists and lists of rules. My LO is only 8 months old, but I’d like to get this whole principle thing down so she’ll have respectful boundaries and her world won’t be chaos. How did you go about setting principles and boundaries with toddlers?

A lot of times, when people ask me about transitioning to some of these unschooling and gentle parenting philosophies, I struggle in my answer. Not because I don’t know how I feel (I do), and not because I feel like I have it all figured out (I don’t)… but just because it was something we went through – rather smoothly, thankfully – when Spencer was still a baby 15 years ago; 15 years is a long time; I’m ~~old~~ 38; and sometimes I honestly don’t remember the specifics.

But this I remember.

I remember that moment, one of many such lightbulb-moments that would serve as the framework for my entire parenting journey, when I decided:

Rules are kind of stupid.

Before I get flogged for that, of course I don’t mean all rules. But some rules. A lot of rules. Arbitrary rules (and as it turns out, many many rules fall under the category of arbitrary) I was going to do away with arbitrary rules.

Some rules do serve a purpose though, and I got that. So my first new rule (ha) under my new no-rule policy was that I could only make a rule if it was a) a matter of safety, or b) had to do with respect… either towards self, towards others, or towards your surroundings. When it came down to it, I decided, those were the only rules that mattered. And for a short while it worked. It wasn’t long however before I realized that even those well-thought out rules, while maybe not classifying as “stupid” exactly, were unnecessary.

I wear my seat belt every single time I drive… not because I’ve made it a rule, but because it’s a simple thing I can do to increase my safety in the car.

I try to treat others with kindness and respect… not because I’ve made it a rule, but because it’s the right thing to do.

I want my kids to live with the same kind of principles. I want them to make decisions based on what’s important to them, based on what they’ve learned from our actions as their parents, based on what they’ve learned by living and playing and working together as a healthy family. Based on their own sense of right and wrong. Not based on an outwardly imposed list of “do”s and “do not”s.

We still talk about safety. We still talk about respect. We still talk about good choices.

But… sometimes we jump on the bed.

Sometimes we play with fire.

Sometimes we have ice cream before dinner.

Sometimes we have ice cream FOR dinner.

We don’t have to make family rules in order to live together safely, happily, and with mutual respect. We talk to our kids. We listen to our kids. We respect our kids. We respect each other. We show them what healthy relationships look like. We show them what healthy decisions look like. We let them explore and try and look and touch, all while we’re right there beside them… to guide them, to protect them, to act as their safety net when they need it, and as their biggest supporters when they don’t.

And since this is all likely begging the question: “How will they ever learn to follow the rules? Won’t they be disorderly, disruptive, and disrespectful? How will they learn to operate in polite society?” My answer to that is this:

My children have never had an issue following rules. They follow the rules at church, at Cub Scouts, at gymnastics class, and at karate. They follow the rules at zoos and museums and public stadiums. When we go new places, we educate ourselves about the rules. And because they have respect for themselves and respect for others; because they understand that their being able to enjoy or see or experience is sometimes contingent on following the rules, they have no difficulties doing so. Rules have never been set forth as something oppressive or scary or overwhelming. They are sometimes necessary in other places, and the kids all know that. They know that they are sometimes silly, and they know that they can question them and that we will always give them an honest answer. They also know that when they go anywhere with rules in place that they have a choice: to follow the rules or not. They know that the owners/persons in charge of said place have a choice too: to give second chances or to ask them to leave.

I don’t worry that my kids won’t learn to follow rules. They already do. Perhaps even more importantly, I also don’t worry that they’ll blindly follow unfair or immoral rules either. They’re learning to question. Just like I’d hoped all those years ago, they’re learning to use their own minds, and follow their own sense of what’s good and what’s right and what’s necessary and what’s fair….. all without ever having been given rules requiring them to do so.

1 Comment

Filed under parenting, Uncategorized, unschooling

July 5, 2012 · 6:00 AM

I stole your stuff. Now I’m holding it for ransom.

Earlier this week, another Pinterest gem went all crazy viral on Facebook. It showed a photo of a large tupperware type bin with a poem taped to the side. The poem informed the kids that they’d left their stuff out, so mom’s confiscated it. If they wanted to get it back, they had to do a chore to earn it. Next to the poem was a little envelope labeled “chores”, where presumably the child could pick from such tasks as sweeping, vacuuming, and doing the dishes.

Like most things that travel so widely so quickly, it left everyone in my newsfeed clearly divided by a line in the sand: Those who thought the idea was brilliant, and couldn’t wait to implement it in their own house, and those – like myself – who thought….. well, otherwise. Over and over I saw the same questions aimed at those who didn’t like it. “Why wouldn’t you like it?” “What’s wrong with it?” And on my own Facebook page, “What’s wrong with all of you??” I’m going to ignore that last question, but to give people the benefit of the doubt I’ll assume the first two are sincere. Here then are the top five reasons this isn’t something you’d find in my home, in no particular order:

It’s not very nice. Taking possession of something that doesn’t belong to you is theft. Let’s just start there. My children’s things are their own, and it’s not my place to take them, let alone take them and then demand they pay me in some way to get them back. If I left my phone laying around (something ~~that I do all. the. time.~~ that’s been known to happen) I’d be pretty ticked off if my husband decided it was his until I’d scrubbed the bathtub or ironed his work shirts. If I wouldn’t like it done to myself, I wouldn’t do it to my kids.

It teaches kids that chores are punishments. Things like washing the dishes, sweeping the floor, and doing laundry are a part of life and a part of keeping a nice home…. something that we can either learn to do joyfully, or learn to view as… well, a chore: something unpleasant, and something to be dreaded. If a child grows up associating doing chores with 1) doing something “wrong” by not putting some treasured item away, and 2) being forced to earn said item back when it was taken away from them, which view do you suppose they’ll carry with them into adulthood?

It places blame on kids for something we’re all guilty of. My husband is an admittedly much tidier person than I am, but even he will leave a cup on the end table, or his laptop in the living room. I’m forever leaving that aforementioned cell phone all over the house, I’m constantly losing my mug of coffee, and it’s not uncommon for me to have books, notebooks, and other current projects out where I can easily find them. Things don’t always get put away at the end of the day, and that’s okay! Sometimes we forget, sometimes we’re busy with other things, sometimes playing games with the kids takes precedence over any clean-up. The difference is, as adults we’re not punished for it. We deal with it the next day, and life goes on.

It emphasizes an “us versus them” mentality. A system like this sets up mom as the dictator, and the kids at her beck and call. A lot of people seem to think that if it doesn’t work that way that the kids must run the house. To the contrary, in our house we operate as a family. We’re all on the same team. It’s not my house, or my husband’s house, or the kids’ house…. it’s our house. We all work together, and we respect each other’s things. If something’s left out, and it’s an issue for someone else, it’s no more simple nor complicated than this: “Spencer, can you please come get your project off the counter so we can make dinner?” And he comes to get it. Problem solved. If he can’t come right that second for whatever reason, we move it for him, into his room or onto to his desk. He knows it’s safe, we have the counter back, and we can make dinner. Problem solved.

It’s a temporary (and rather arbitrary) solution. It’s a quick fix. I find it odd and somewhat confusing when people justify this kind of thing by saying “I’m not going to raise ungrateful little brats who don’t respect their belongings.” This isn’t going to teach them to respect their belongings. It’s not going to teach them to pick up their things. It’s going to temporarily make them pick up their things, because they don’t want mom to take them, and/or because they don’t want to have to do the chores to get them back. Mom doesn’t have to worry about the stuff hanging around anymore, plus she gets someone to do the chores she doesn’t want to do anymore. Win/win, right? But what’s going to happen when the child is grown, and mom’s not around to confiscate his things? What’s he going to do when he lives on his own and can leave his stuff wherever he damn well pleases, without fear of someone snatching it? Sure, it’s easy and convenient to just take away all their things, but what is it going to accomplish in the long term? And what is it going to do to your relationship with your child? If you want your children to learn how to take care of their things, show them how to take care of their things. Help them take care of their things. Let them see you taking care of your own things. Put in the effort! As for the mess, and the chores….

Everyone has his/her own personal level of tidiness. Some people live and work best in chaos, and others are uncomfortable with anything but hospital corners and floors you can eat off of. We have six people in our house, and all of us are different. My daily struggle with this issue is the fact that messes make me crazy… and yet I tend to make a mess everywhere I go. It’s my struggle though. Not my husband’s, and not my kid’s. If *I* am bothered by a mess, I will clean it. If I need help, I’ll ask for it. But it wouldn’t be fair for me to impose my style on the rest of the family, nor would it be fair for them to impose theirs onto me. We respect each other’s differences, we communicate, we compromise, we give and we take. We operate as a family.

This house is our haven. The one place we’re guaranteed to be free to be ourselves, and free to give and receive unconditional love. To learn, to play, to experiment, to grow. Sometimes our house is clean. Sometimes it’s messy. Sometimes it’s very messy.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

164 Comments

Filed under Facebook, gentle discipline, mindful parenting, parenting

July 4, 2012 · 6:00 AM

Is it Okay to Let Your Child Cry?

It was the first day of a new session of swimming lessons, and the girl next to my smiling daughter was screaming. Not just crying, but screaming. She was petrified, literally shaking from head to toe, calling out for her mother in between gasps. When her mother approached her, I at first thought she was there to do what I would have done: scoop her daughter up, hold her close, and tell her that she didn’t have to get in the water. But what she did instead was clamp her hand over the girl’s mouth to muffle her cries. She said something to her that I couldn’t make out, then went back to her chair on the deck. The girl finished the class, screaming with the same intensity the entire time.

This happened two weeks ago, and I’ve thought of it frequently since. And while it would be easy and convenient for me to blame the mother, the fact is it’s only partly her fault. Her child’s whole life she’s likely been told – by everyone from pediatricians to the media to well-meaning friends and relatives – that it’s important for her baby to separate, that she shouldn’t be so dependent, that she needs to be strong, that letting her cry would ultimately be good for her.

That mom has been lied to.

We’ve all been lied to.

Have you ever heard someone say (or perhaps you’ve said it yourself) “Oh, it broke my heart to hear her cry, but…” or “I hated listening to his screams, but…” and then go on to tell you why it was so important that the swim class be completed, or that day camp be attended, or that dental cleaning be performed? We have those gut feelings for a reason. They’re there to tell us to listen. As parents, we are biologically designed to respond to our children’s cries, not ignore them. It doesn’t feel right to hear our children cry and not attend to them, because it’s not. Yet somewhere along the way, someone decided that we should ignore our intuition, and ignore their cries. And society bought it. It’s the only way I can explain the fact that when I shared the story of the little girl in swim class, that while everyone agreed that the hand clamped over the mouth was not a nice thing to do, many didn’t seem to have an issue with a child screaming her way through the duration of the class.

“She’ll get used to it.”

“It’s a safety issue. Learning to swim is important”

“Lots of kids cry in the beginning.”

That’s society talking. And society lies. ‘

Will she get used to it? Maybe, maybe not. But is taking that chance really worth the damage it’s doing to your relationship with your child, who now knows you won’t always be there when she cries?

Is it a safety issue; must she really learn to swim? If she’s going to be around pools, of course. But there are other classes. Other teachers. Other methods. There is the simple option of waiting a couple of months to try again (a couple of months can make a huge difference in the readiness level of a toddler!) There is the option of helping her learn yourself, in her own time, in her own way.

Do lots of kids cry in the beginning? Sadly, yes… something I can surely attest to after watching 4+ weeks of classes now. But it doesn’t have to be that way. It happens because too many people have been conditioned to listen to a falsehood, to ignore their intuition, and to ignore their child’s cries.

What children need – what all of us need – is connection. Compassion. To feel like we are heard. We do not need to be separated from our parents, the people who love us most, from the moment we are born. We do not need to be banished to another room, forced to cry-it-out, “trained” to sleep through the night, ignored when we call for help. To do so is to go against our very nature as caring, nurturing adults. We are meant to respond to our children’s cries, not ignore them… whether they’re crying because they’re lonely, sad, hungry, or scared. Whether they’re crying because they’re not ready for swim lessons, unsure about the dentist chair, not wanting to get their hair brushed, or suddenly fearful of their car seat.

But wait, wait, you’re thinking, isn’t it inconvenient to find a different swim class? To brainstorm with the dentist, or to go to another one? To get creative, or adjust your standards, when it comes to tangles? To take the time to let your child regain his comfort in the car seat, even if it means staying at home for awhile? Is it really that big a deal? Yes, it really is that big a deal. Your child is that big a deal. Your relationship with your child is that big a deal. And you know what? Sometimes taking the time to listen to your child’s cries and coming up with a respectful solution is inconvenient. But no one ever said parenting was supposed to be convenient. And to be really blunt about it, what’s more important: your relationship with your child, or convenience? It’s not a matter of “picking your battles” either. You and your child are partners. You’re on the same team. Parenting should not be a battle.

Lastly, to get back to that title: Is is ever okay to let your child cry? Of course. Just like their adult counterparts, sometimes children need to cry. They’ll cry out of anger, sadness, frustration, and disappointment. Fear, exhaustion, pain, and overwhelm. Sometimes our job as parents is to just be there, to listen, to hold them if they want to be held, and to let them cry if they need to cry.

To make sure they know – beyond any shadow of a doubt – that their needs are real and that we, as their parents, will respect them.

This post was written as part of a joint project called Listen To Our Babies, Heal Our Nation. Be sure to visit our website to read more contributions from dozens of bloggers, parents, professionals, and concerned citizens.

45 Comments

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

July 2, 2012 · 6:00 AM

Early in the Morning

One of my very favorite times of day is early in the morning, sometime between 4:00 and 5:00 AM. That’s around the time that Tegan usually wakes up and makes her way into our bed, to sleep for a few more hours snuggled between us. Like her three brothers before her, she slept exclusively in our bed as a baby and toddler, and it’s only been recently that she’s started choosing to start the night in her own bed. As I think most any cosleeping parent would tell you, it’s a bittersweet milestone to be sure.

But we still have our mornings.

I always wake up as soon as she’s out of her bed… partly because of mother’s intuition, but mostly because she’s so dang loud. How a tiny 40 pound girl can make herself sound like a herd of elephants just coming down a hallway is beyond me, but she does. Every time. Once into our room, she almost flies onto our bed as if possessing super powers, and nestles herself in between her father and I. If we’re sleeping too close together, she simply burrows her way in. Not an eighth of a second after she lands, she’s asleep once again.

As our fourth and final child (our “caboose” as one of my friends likes to say), her fading babyhood is all the more poignant. At four, she is so busy, so active, so big… but in those early morning hours, she’s still my baby. And as I lay there in the dark, waiting for sleep to come again and loving her so fiercely it almost hurts, I drink it all in: the soft, rhythmic sound of her breathing; the faint scent of coconut in her tousled curls; the warmth of the little hand she’s wrapped around my back.

In those moments, nothing else matters but me and my baby.

I am home.

3 Comments

Filed under attachment parenting, parenting, Tegan

June 21, 2012 · 6:00 AM

Listen to Our Babies; Heal Our Nation

Listen to Our Babies, Heal Our Nation: Bloggers Unite to Humanize Babies

July 1-8, 2012

The US has some of the highest rates of depression, anxiety, cancer, and other diseases in the world. Every year our government puts billions of dollars into funding programs that attempt to address these issues. The efforts are consistently ineffective. We are the leaders of the free world and we must remain healthy to stay that way.

There is a cost-free, efficient, and fulfilling way to heal our nation. This simple change requires no permission, program, or rhetoric, and it can start with you, today. By listening to our babies and accepting that their needs must be met, we can reduce disease and promote healthy members of society.

If you are skeptical, we understand. So for one week in July, a group of knowledgeable and respected bloggers are coming together to share how listening to our babies can heal our nation.

We invite you to join us in learning how to raise healthier children. We do not promise it will be easy- at times it will be difficult to hear what is being said. The United States of America has never shied away from the difficult, though. Instead, we choose to do the right things “not because they are easy, but because they are hard.” (John F. Kennedy)

“Listen To Our Babies, Heal Our Nation” agrees that meeting the needs of our babies is the most patriotic thing we can do for our country.

Will you join us?

How you can participate: We are looking for submissions of all sorts; blog posts, artwork, vlogs, videos, original movie clips- anything that shares why or how you came to believe that we must listen to our babies.

Everyone: Have you always wanted to share your thoughts, but never had a venue to do it? E-mail submissions to: healournation@ourmuddyboots.com

Sponsors: Opportunities available. Please e-mail healournation@ourmuddyboots.com for more information.

Experts: Have something interesting to chat about pertaining to understanding and listening to our babies? Host a live chat on a Facebook page. E- mail: healournation@ourmuddyboots.com

Bloggers: Publicize this event; share it on your Facebook page and Twitter;

Post this Press Release as an entry on your own blog.

Submit something previously written or create something fresh.

Listen to Our Babies, Heal Our Nation: Bloggers Unite to Humanize Babies

Organized by: The Badass Breastfeeder, Our Muddy Boots, The Path Less Taken, Little Hearts Books, The Single Crunch, and Zen Parenting

To The Fathers

I have a great dad. My dad played with me. He helped me make sense of my math homework. He patiently sat on the floor to assemble new bikes and toys and puzzles. He taught me not to take life too seriously. He taught to me to hang spoons from my nose. He taught me to play softball, and he cheered me on at horse shows. He taught me to have a sense of adventure. He passed down his artistic ability, his love of television and his ~~borderline unhealthy~~ sense of stubbornness. Oh the stubbornness. He also taught me to be impeccable with my words, to live with integrity, and to dance like nobody’s watching.

I love my dad.

It wasn’t until I became a parent myself though (because really, I didn’t have most of my life-altering realizations until I became a parent myself) that I truly got it. That I truly understood what it meant to be a father. How much he loved us. How much he sacrificed for us. How hard he worked for us. How proud we made him, and at times how much we hurt him 🙁 It’s a realization that now, watching my own husband be a wonderful father to our own kids, almost takes my breath away.

Being a good father is no joke.

So I salute you today…. my dad, and my kids’ dad… for a job well done. And to the rest of the dads that I have the pleasure of knowing and watching:

The brand new dads, who are still figuring this whole thing out, and loving more fiercely than they ever knew possible

The veteran dads, who are daily learning from their triumphs and their mistakes

The single dads, who have to work twice as hard to do what so many of us take for granted

The gay dads, who have the added obstacle of prejudice and intolerance

The dads who are struggling, and making a decision to do better

The dads who are working hard to take care of their families…. outside the house, inside the house, or as the stay-at-home parent

The dads who are tirelessly advocating for children… for their children, and for all children.

The dads who work with their kids, play with their kids, read to their kids, listen to their kids, cry with their kids. The dads who comb peanut butter out of their daughter’s hair, step on legos in the middle of the night, and show their kids how to safely play with matches. The dads who play catch in the backyard, Marco Polo in the pool, and never complain when the oil change takes 3 times as long because their kids are helping beside them. The dads who aren’t afraid to make a fool of themselves if it makes their children laugh. The dads who play princess and tea party and Storm Trooper. The dads who sing loudly, quote old movies, and never, ever pass up an opportunity to make an ordinary moment extraordinary.

The dads who say “I love you,” “I’m sorry”, and “You can say anything to me.”

The dads who really KNOW their kids.

The dads who go without.

The dads with sick children, who have more strength than most of may ever know.

The dads whose children are no longer with them, and the dads who are dads in their hearts but don’t yet have a child in their arms.

To all those dads, I thank you. Your kids thank you. The world needs more people like you.

1 Comment

Filed under holidays, parenting

June 2, 2012 · 6:35 PM

The Problem with Facebook Parenting

I’m disheartened.

I’ve been getting two diametrically opposed types of comments and messages lately. The first is people pointing my attention to various articles, stories and posts about things that they know I’ll disagree with parenting-wise, and that they hope I’ll write about. I appreciate that because 1) it’s humbling to think anyone would want my opinion about anything at all, and 2) if I’m going to write about parenting, I need to constantly keep up with what’s going on. The other, people telling me that I’m focusing too much on negatives, and should just worry about my own family, is appreciated as well (if it’s done somewhat kindly) because it keeps me balanced and in check. No one wants to read a constant barrage of bitter diatribes, and I get that.

But I can’t keep quiet about this trend of parenting by humiliating your child on Facebook. I can’t. And what’s bothering me just as much as these stories themselves, is the number of people who don’t seem to see anything wrong with it.

Because there is something wrong with it.

You all saw the video of the dad shooting his daughter’s laptop. Since then, it’s seemed to have spawned a dozen copycats. There was the mom who edited her daughter’s profile picture with a big, red X over her mouth when she didn’t like the girl’s language, accompanied with the text, “I do not know how to keep my [mouth shut]. I am no longer allowed on Facebook or my phone. Please ask why.” There was the dad who posted a picture of his son, crying, with a board around his neck that read, “I lied to my family.” More recently, there was a mom who punished her (underage) daughter for posting a picture with alcohol in it by photographing her – again, crying- while holding a sign reading, “Since I want to post photos of me holding liquor I am obviously not ready for social media and will be taking a hiatus until I learn what I should + should not post. BYE-BYE.” And many more in between.

(*I purposely did not provide the links, but they are unfortunately easily found through Google.*)

So what’s the problem? Well, setting aside the obvious issue of hypocrisy… Since you can’t use the internet appropriately, I’ll model appropriate use for you by using it to shame and humiliate my offspring (??)… there is the both deeper and more basic matter of how we treat each other:

Purposely and publicly humiliating someone you love is not a nice thing to do.

Have you ever been really humiliated? It’s not just embarrassment. Humiliation hurts. I remember once in high school, someone took a… compromising, I guess you’d say… photo of a classmate at a party, taped it to piece of paper with some biting commentary, and somehow got it behind the glass in the trophy display case. By the time an administrator could come with a key, it had been seen and laughed at by half the school. Another time, there was a school play, and there was one scene where the stage was occupied by a lone girl giving a monologue. She was not a member of any of the “popular” cliques, and she was overweight… both of which made her an easy target for bullies. The auditorium was silent as she paused between lines, and in the silence came a loud and projecting voice in the audience that shouted, “How Now, Brown Cow?” Some people laughed, some were stunned with sympathy, and the girl ran off the stage in tears.

That’s humiliation.

In both of those cases, the one doing the humiliating was not a trusted friend but just another person in a sea of classmates. The humiliation took place in front of 50, maybe 100, people. How much worse would it feel to be humiliated by a parent who loves you, someone you’re supposed to be able to go to with your problems, someone you’re supposed to be able to trust? How much worse would it feel to not only have it shared with your friends and family, but to have it broadcast to thousands, to tens of thousands, to tens of millions all across the internet? To have it splashed about as though it were entertainment? Do you think that this child is going to turn to their parent the next time they’re struggling with something?

No good can come to a relationship from such an incredible breach of trust. Would it work in terms of changing the child’s behavior? Possibly… although I’d argue that it’d be just as likely to backfire and actually increase the behavior in an act of rebellion. And I don’t know about you, but I never want my kids to behave in a certain way just for the sake of behaving, or out of fear of what my next public punishment might be. Whenever I’m faced with a question of how to proceed with my kids, I ask myself if my chosen course of action will bring us closer together or pull us further apart. What matters to me most is our relationship, and the knowledge that when they do encounter a hurdle or a problem or a stumbling block or a mistake (and they will, because they’re human) that they’ll feel they can come to me, and that I’ll listen.

Before I get the cries of, “Who the hell are you to judge these families?? You don’t know what kind of problems they have. You don’t know what goes on inside their house…” That’s correct. I don’t know. I don’t pretend to know. In fact, I have a lot of compassion for these families, because they’re obviously a) at a very desperate place in their parenting journey, or b) don’t know that there are alternatives… both of which are sad situations to be sure. I once received an email from someone who was certain I was going to judge her, because she’d called the cops on one of her teenaged children who was abusing drugs. And another who’d actually had to kick a child out of her house in order to keep peace within the home. And here’s the thing: I’ve never dealt with either of those issues. I don’t know what that’s like, and I could never say with certainty how I would or would not handle it.

I will say this though: there is a big difference between privately being a catalyst for help, for doing what you need to do to keep your children and/or family members safe; and very publicly and purposely humiliating your child in the name of “discipline.”

Despite what this barrage of current stories might tell you, “parenting” over Facebook is not cool, it’s not funny, and it’s not helpful. But more than any of the above, it’s just not nice.

15 Comments

Filed under Facebook, gentle discipline, gentle parenting, hypocrisy, mindful parenting, parenting

May 31, 2012 · 6:45 AM

Parenting a Two Year Old

Thanks to Meegs of A New Day for today’s guest post!

Parenting is an ever evolving process. No one would claim that parenting your newborn is the same as parenting your infant is the same as parenting your toddler and beyond. Every parenting style changes, but I think that if you consider yourself an AP parent, then you are especially in-tuned to your need to evolve.

My personal parenting style has definitely had to change a lot since Gwen turned 2 years old, and the biggest change has had to be to my expectations. I always knew 2 would be rough – I’ve worked with kids before, and I’ve heard the horror stories – but it is so very different when it’s your own, and I didn’t expect it to be so tough for me. I consider myself a pretty patient individual, and its not that I thought I would be immune to the ups and downs of toddlerhood, but its always a bit of a surprise watching your basically sweet baby have her first toddler meltdown.

Gwen has so much she wants to say, so much she wants to do (on her own, of course: “I DO IT!”), and heaven help the person who gets in her way. I haven’t gotten to pick out her clothes in AGES, but now sometimes she gives me such a hard time about even the little tweaks to make her outfits weather-appropriate. Foods she loves she sometimes decides she
hates. She’ll have a complete breakdown if you tell her there are no more of [whatever snack is the magic snack that she decides she must have today]. She wants to open/close every door, and put on her own diaper, and pee on the toilet but only if she feels like it and not if she doesn’t and sometimes for 20 more minutes even though she did the actual peeing as soon as she sat down and…

The ages of 2 – 3 (and 12, 17, 20) are “straddling” ages. My little girl is caught between the toddlerhood she is shedding, and the childhood that lays beyond. From what I’ve heard, the dawning of that childhood (4 – 5) is pretty magical and wonderful. But this coming of age part… well, i know its as hard for her as it is for me. She wants to be able to tell me everything, but sometimes she just can’t find the words… or I can’t understand them. She wants to be able to do everything, but she’s not quite big enough to reach, or strong enough to carry, or…

And Mama has her good days and bad days too. Some days I can read her, feel the frustration building, and head it off at the pass. I can weather any anger and yelling with a calm determination, “I see you are angry. You take a minute and let me know when you are ready to try
again. We can do it together.” Other days she catches me off guard with every outburst and and I’m left wondering what happened. Some days it’s all I can do to grit through my teeth, “Enough. We Don’t Hit.” Some days I want to push the fast forward button up to 16x.
BUT she is also bright, and happy, and loving… grabbing your face to kiss both cheeks and your forehead. I don’t want to fast forward that part, and I hope she doesn’t grow out of it!

Here’s what I’m working on to have more of the calm days and less of the frustrated ones.

1) Age realistic expectations. At two, she is only emotionally able to handle so much. She’s still learning what appropriate reactions are and how her actions cause reactions. And you learn by trial and error.

2) Expectations that match with what I want for Gwen in the future. A friend once told me about a very trying morning with her spirited, energetic, intelligent daughter. She delivered her to daycare and asked the teacher, “How do I raise a daughter who is strong,
determined, independent, comfortable with her feelings and voices her
opinions, but who also listens and always does what I ask her to?!” The answer, of course, is that you don’t! But a few tiffs now, as we figure all this out together, is well worth it to foster the independence and determination that will serve her so well in the future.

3) Name the emotion, for both of our sakes! When Gwen is frustrated or sad, I say as much… “I see you are frustrated/mad/upset because of xyz…” I do it to help her figure out her emotions, but I do it to remind myself of them as well. Do I love crying because she wants something she can’t have? Nope. But I do know what its like to be overly tired after a long day and have something be extremely frustrating and almost too much to bare. Naming her emotion helps me put myself in her shoes.

4) Evaluate if I really need to distract/dissuade/say no. Gentle/AP parenting is not (contrary to what some media might have you believe) permissive parenting in the negative sense. But at the suggestion of a smart mama, I started looking at the why I didn’t want Gwen to do certain things. Is it because of a safety reason? Then stay the course! Is it because it will be a little messy and I don’t want to clean up? Hmm, there are times this is valid, but many when it’s not a great reason.

5) Teach respect by modeling respect. Gwen is an equal member of this family. Yes, her dad and I have the life experience, and as her parents we will ask her to defer to our judgement many a time. However, she deserves our respect as fully as we deserve hers. So we listen when she talks, we say excuse me and thank you and please, and we try to give our reasons/explain our actions when we do need her to defer to us. “Because I said so,” or “because I’m the mom,” are not explanations.

Here’s the thing, and I’m sure this will shock no one… I’m not perfect. Not by a long shot. I do get overly frustrated, slip up and yell sometimes. That can be a learning time for us both though too, because when I catch myself, I excuse myself to calm down, then come back and apologize. No one is perfect, including this Mama, and I want my girl to know that. People make mistakes, and the fact that we can apologize, hug, and still love each other afterwards, just as much as we did before, well… I think that’s one of the best lessons I can give us all. Hopefully it is the one that will keep her coming to me when she makes her own mistakes.

When all is said and done, that’s what I want. A daughter who respects and loves me as much as I respect and love her (and treats others with respect as an extention), who talks to me and tells me the bad as readily as the good, who is kind-hearted and strong willed.

Two is tough, but the lifetime ahead of us is promising.
***

Meegs is an easy-going girl that loves tattoos, food, and the outdoors; but most especially her husband and daughter. She’s passionate about being greener, co-existing peacefully with animals/the environment, and LGBTQ rights. In her free time, she loves to read, go for long walks, cheer for the Eagles and the Flyers, cook, and spend time with her family and friends. A breastfeeding, babywearing, sometimes bedsharing mama, Meegs finds her online home at A New Day.

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Filed under attachment parenting, gentle parenting, guest posts, mindful parenting, parenting

May 18, 2012 · 7:41 AM

Extended Breastfeeding – Let’s Get Real

By now you’ve all seen it: The Time cover with the young and beautiful mom breastfeeding a 3 or 4 year old boy, who for some reason is standing up on a chair as he nurses and stares down the camera. If you’re like me, you’ve in fact seen it over and over (and over and over and over) in your Facebook news feed, accompanied by commentary and opinion on both sides of the issue. Beautiful! Love it! Disgusting! Perverted!

I have my own opinions… on the photo, on the sensational “Are you mom enough?” headline, on the act of breastfeeding a 3 or 4 year old in general. But here’s the thing. My opinion, your opinion, the opinion of the zillions of people who are freaking out about this cover… none of it changes the fact that what’s shown on that cover is normal. It’s not wrong, it’s not disgusting, it’s not perverted. It shouldn’t even be controversial. It’s just…. biology.

I’m going to go over this one more time:

Humans are mammals. Let’s just start there. Humans are mammals, and mammals are biologically designed to get their early years’ nourishment from their mothers. And even if mom doesn’t initiate cessation herself, the child will eventually fulfill his/her need and wean, at whatever age is appropriate for that child. The appropriate age range is huge – just as it is for learning to walk, talk, and use the toilet – but being mammals, there are certain biological factors that point to what may be a natural and normal age for weaning.

You with me so far?

You may have heard that the worldwide average age for weaning is around 4. I’m quite certain I’ve touted it myself. But my recent readings have shown me that that number is not very meaningful, and in fact not necessarily even accurate. So forget that number. I’m not a math person, so words like “mean” and “median” tend to give me a headache anyway.

But I do love facts.

Here then are some facts about mammals and weaning*:

1. Larger mammals usually nurse their offspring until they have quadrupled in body weight. In humans, this happens around 2.5 to 3.5 years of age.

2. One study of primates showed that offspring naturally nursed until they’d reached 1/3 of their adult body weight. For humans, this means about 5 to 7 years.

3. Another study compared weaning ages and sexual maturity, and suggested a weaning age of about halfway to sexual maturity… around 6 years old for a human.

4. Still another study, conducted by Holly Smith on 21 different species of primates, showed that the offspring were weaned at the same time that they got their first set of permanent molars. In humans, this happens at 5.5 to 6 years.

*Read A Natural Age of Weaning by Katherine Dettwyler for more. She concludes a natural weaning age of anywhere from 2.5 to 7 years*

The American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) recommends breastfeeding for at least a year.

The World Health Organization (WHO) now recommends breastfeeding for a minimum of two years.

And it should go without saying that the health and emotional benefits – both for mom and child – can’t be argued.

These are all facts. Your discomfort or disagreement doesn’t change them. It seems to me, given all of the above, that the question really shouldn’t be why or how moms like the ones on the cover of Time could breastfeed so long. It should be why so many people are in a rush to wean so early.

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May 9, 2012 · 8:12 AM

Daydreams

Today’s guest post is from my friend, Alice, who last shared her story of her twin baby girls in Surprises. Thanks, Alice, for another beautiful and honest post.

When I daydreamed as a girl about having a family of my own, I can’t say I envisioned the choices I would eventually make. There was no wistful sighing over a future homebirth, or longingly imagining how awesome it would be to homeschool. But there’s one choice I imagined that did become my future; I always knew I wanted a large family. But the reality of life with lots of small children? Not part of the dream. As our family grew, our views on parenting flexed and changed, and what we ended up choosing was the path of peaceful parenting.

When you know how you want to parent – and I don’t mean the impossible ideal of never making mistakes, but in general the kind of parent you want to be – it’s discouraging to feel like you fall short. There was a brief period in 2010 where not only had I found my parenting niche, but I was living it every day. Radically unschooling and parenting peacefully in harmony with our 3 boys; our home was like a little utopia. There was enough of me to go around, there was enough time in my day for my boys AND my husband AND myself.

I would read articles and blogs about gentle parenting, and what to do as alternatives to traditional authoritarian methods, and I would think, “Yup! Got that down!” My boys were 6, 4 and 1 year old; life was good. So good, in fact, that we decided to add one more baby to our family. Surprise! We added two baby girls and became a family of 7. And life was great – and it was hard, scary, frustrating and overwhelming. Nowhere could I find help and advice for my situation. It’s all well and good to redirect a toddler when you actually have free hands – what about when you’re sitting on the couch with a baby attached to each breast? It’s fine to not get upset when said toddler dumps a whole box of baking soda on the steps when you have time to clean it up – but what about when you haven’t even cleaned up the last 3 messes, there’s no food in the house, and a mountain of dirty laundry is threatening to take over?

How in the world do you parent peacefully when you are so overwhelmed you just want to yell?

Oddly enough, I never found any articles with that title. In my stress I found myself reverting to authoritarian parenting; setting arbitrary limits, losing my patience, and yelling. Lots and lots of yelling. I felt like a failure – not because I was yelling mean or abusive things (I wasn’t) but because that was not the kind of mother I wanted to be. I knew how I wanted to parent, but I could no longer see how to do it. I was barely making it day to day, going on little sleep. Patience was a thing of the past. Fun was an impossible dream.

With five kids 7 and under, I needed to find a way to implement peaceful parenting in a frequently less-than-peaceful environment.

My first step in stressful situations became choosing to give myself a timeout if I felt like yelling. It’s important to know that this didn’t change what was happening around me; during my timeouts, sometimes the babies were crying. Sometimes my toddler was crying. Sometimes I was crying. But in the 30 seconds, or 3 minutes, whatever I needed to get myself under control, I gave myself a talk and came up with a plan. “Ok. When I go back out there, I’m not going to yell. I’m going to ignore the mess, and we’ll go play outside.” Changing me and my attitude was frequently the key. If I could keep my cool, we could get through whatever the problem was without someone melting down.

Next, I lowered my expectations. A lot. If we all made it through the day and everyone was safe and had their physical and emotional needs met – success! Who cared if the house was a mess? If I managed not to yell and lose my patience – victory!

Once I changed my attitude and my expectations, the next step was creating safe zones for everyone to coexist. Baby gates became my new best friends. With my 5 and 2 year olds hitting each other, and my 2 year old not grasping the need for being gentle with babies, this was critical. I wasn’t punishing or banishing anyone, and I made sure the boys knew that. But my most basic job is to keep all of my kids safe. I gated off sections of the house, and knew that when my toddler was alone he was safe, and he couldn’t hurt anyone else. I could sit in another room and safely nurse the babies, and even if everyone wasn’t thrilled with the arrangement, it was a temporary fix.

On the absolute worst days, when I had to get out of the house, I would load all 5 kids into the car and drive for hours. The boys would watch a movie, the girls would sleep, and I would breath and enjoy the peace.

The past year has been really long. It’s contained a lot more yelling and crying (by all of us) than I would care to think about. But there’s a lot that I’m proud of too. I kept everyone safe and happy. There were no trips to the ER, no injuries. I didn’t yell hurtful or abusive things. I didn’t spank anyone. I always, always apologized when my parenting fell short, and each morning I chose to start over and try my best to parent in partnership.

I can see glimmers of the old utopia ahead. The girls turn 1 on May 19^th, my boys are 8, 6 and 3. Our life has developed a smoother rhythm, and with my arms more often free I can finally be more proactive. Our days once again have more laughter than yelling, more joy than frustration, and more peace than chaos.

And those daydreams I had as a girl about my beautiful and happy large family?

I’m living them.

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, attachment parenting, and mothering multiples. In her copious amounts of free time, Alice sells handmade baby hats and tutus in her Etsy shop, Alice’s Handmade Crafts.

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