Category Archives: parenting

May 4, 2012 · 6:51 AM

Common Sense Parenting

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

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

Common sense.  And it never steers me wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

21 Comments

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

April 12, 2012 · 8:37 AM

Mom’s Rules

Once again, less than stellar parenting advice from Facebook.  I don’t post rules in my house, but if I did, mine would look more like this:

If I cook it….. it’s probably something we all like and enjoy.  Regardless, you are welcome to eat all, some, or none of it, according to your own appetite  and personal taste.

If I buy it… and I give it to you, it’s a gift.  It’s yours, with no strings and no conditions.

If I wash it… it’s done out of a sense of love and cooperation. I wouldn’t expect you to put it away for any other reason.

If I clean it… it’s because I wanted it clean.  If I ask for your help in keeping it that way, it’s a request, not a demand.

If I say bed time… it means I’m going to bed.  Because you’re free to follow your own internal clock, you’ll say good night when you go to bed… whether it’s in your own bed, or nestled between mom and dad.

If I say get off the phone…  I’m being pretty rude.   If I need to ASK you to get off the phone, I will have a good reason, and I will do so politely.

If I say no…  it’s most likely an issue of safety or unavoidable logistics.  You are always welcome to ask why, and you always deserve the courtesy of a response (one that does not include the phrase, “because I said so”)

‘Cause we’re a family.

74 Comments

Filed under Facebook, life, parenting

March 21, 2012 · 12:38 PM

Free To Be

Okay, don’t judge me.  Sometimes I like to read celebrity news sites.  Back in the day, I subscribed to both US Weekly and People, and I relished that little mid-week escape into the exploits and lives of the rich and the famous.  I have long since let those subscriptions lapse, mainly because… well… busy mom, four kids, adult responsibilities = reading about the details of Demi and Ashton’s divorce doesn’t rank too highly on my list of priorities.

But, I do still occasionally find myself at the websites.

Last week, I saw a link titled, “Spotted: Zahara and Shiloh Get Playful with Paparazzi.”  Since I still read enough about that stuff to be able to pick every celebrity baby out of a line-up to know who Zahara and Shiloh are, and since I like reading about families with lots of kids who’ve created a lifestyle around traveling the world, I clicked on it.

Here’s the thing:  Shiloh Jolie-Pitt is a beautiful (and if her pictures are any indication, happy) little five year old girl, who likes to keep her hair short and dresses more like her brothers than her sisters.   And for reasons that I absolutely fail to understand, it makes people crazy.   This stranger, this child that they don’t even know, is getting attacked, over her… hair?  Her clothes?

Some of the comments from the article above:

She could be such a pretty girl…

Why the short hair and boys clothes?!

she is expressing her feelings of wanted to be boy…..Angie should take her to a therapist that specializes in children with gender issues….and pray to God that every thing is going to be o.k.!

the way they let this girl dress is a joke. They really need to put their foot down on this one. They need to make her accept the fact that she is a girl,NOT A BOY. How long is this gonna go on…….

Why are they pushing that little GIRL to dress/look like a BOY??

Poor Shiloh!! Angelina RUINED her when she was just a newborn dressing her in boy’s clothes!! Shame on her!!

I don’t believe that Shiloh has that haircut or wears those clothes cause she wants.  I don’t know ANY kid who wants to outstand from the rest. I think they don’t even know what to be different in a trend or chic way is.

The march of the freak parade. How sad for these children, who will know no other life but the freak existance these two self centered, self promoting people give them.

Now, some of this shouldn’t even be dignified with a response.  To suggest that a child (a child you don’t know, at that) needs to see a therapist because of her clothes and hairstyle choices is ludicrous, at best.  And the “freak” comment… I just included that one as a small sampling of how mean people can get over things like this.  But the rest of it:  Am I missing something?  What on earth could possibly be wrong with letting your children innocently express themselves?   To the person who said that she can’t believe a child would choose those things for herself, or want to stand out from the rest, I strongly beg to differ.

When given the freedom to do so, kids love to express themselves through their clothes, their hair, and their appearance in general.   And they should!  For some kids, it means constantly experimenting.  For others, it means picking a look and sticking with it.   Still others may say, “You know what?  I don’t need to look ‘different’;  I’m happy just being me.”  I think part of our job as parents is to respect and honor that individuality, in whatever ways we can.   Life is full of hard choices.  Full.  But not this one.  This one’s easy.  Your kid wants short hair, long hair, blue hair, shaved hair?  Painted nails?  Painted face?  Temporary tattoos?  A body decorated with markers or lipstick or mud?  Mismatched clothes, boy clothes, girl clothes, black clothes, bright clothes?

Why the hell not, to any of the above?

It literally pains me to feel that I even have to say this out loud, but that stuff is just an outward expression.  It doesn’t change who your child is.  Everett is the same child he was before he embraced a purple mohawk.  Spencer is the same person he was both before and after he cut off some 18 inches of long curly hair.  I’m the same person I was before I pierced my nose.   Or dreaded my hair.  Or got tattoos.  It completely befuddles me that in 2012 that people are still placing so much emphasis on outward appearances.  Still placing so much judgment on outward appearances.  Sadly, the public response to Shiloh Jolie-Pitt shows me that not only does it still exist, but that it is rampant.

Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about society.  What I can do is make sure my kids know that they are free to express themselves.  To make sure they know that others are free to express themselves too, that even when others make choices we wouldn’t make for ourselves, that it doesn’t mean those choices are bad or wrong.  To make sure they know that you can’t ever judge a person simply by what’s on the outside.  To make sure they know that differences are not just okay, but BEAUTIFUL:

Who wants to live in a world where everyone looks the same anyway?  I know I don’t.

And I can’t help but think that if more kids – and adults – were given the freedom to truly be who they are, that there would be less people growing up feeling the need to lash out irrationally at five year old strangers on the internet.

 

15 Comments

Filed under parenting, Uncategorized, unschooling

March 11, 2012 · 5:00 PM

Playing nicely with others

“I want to be clear and here are the values that I stand for. I stand for honesty, equality, kindness, compassion, treating people the way you want to be treated, and helping those in need. To me those are traditional values. That’s what I stand for.”  ~ Ellen Degeneres

If you’re on my Facebook page (and if you’re not, consider this your personal invitation) you might have seen a conversation a few days ago about homosexuality.  I don’t generally post about things that can garner such controversy – make no mistake, unschooling and gentle parenting garner plenty of that all by themselves – but it’s been heavily on my heart since the firestorm that happened after the homecoming photo of the gay marine went viral, and then again after Kirk Cameron’s recent remarks to Piers Morgan.

For the first time, I thought very seriously of writing about it.  I think it’s a highly important issue, and one that has become increasingly relevant.  But in the Facebook conversation I mentioned above, it became evident to me rather quickly that such a post would not be received well.  A few people even told me I should “stick to writing about parenting.”

Well…

I’m not going to write about homosexuality.  But not because people think I shouldn’t, not because it’s too controversial, and not because I’m afraid of alienating readers.   As far as I’m concerned, none of the above are valid reasons not to write something.  It’s just that I realized at some point over the past couple of days that the issue isn’t really about homosexuality at all.  It’s about how we treat each other.  And that is actually very much a parenting issue, because our children learn how to treat others from us: their biggest role models.

There are things we are not going to agree on, to be sure.  But if you’re reading this blog, whoever you are and wherever you are in your life,  I sincerely hope we can agree on the following:  (Borrowed from the lovely Ellen Degeneres, because I happen to stand for the exact same values)

Honesty – I have seen people do some crazy and sometimes hurtful things in the name of honesty.  Almost as if “honesty” grants them the license to behave as badly as they’d like, regardless of whether or not it is helpful, necessary, or kind.  That’s not the kind of honesty I’m referring to.   The kind of honesty I live by is both more simple and more primal.  It’s the kind of honesty you can only give when you are first honest with yourself.  The kind of honesty that comes not from talking, but largely from listening…. listening to that still, quiet voice deep within yourself.  A voice which when it is honored, will never, ever, lie to you.

Equality –  (From dictionary.com) ” The state or quality of being equal;  correspondence in quantity, degree, value, rank, or ability.”  Gay, straight, black, white, rich, poor… we’re all the same, not one of us better than the other.  To me, equality means that everyone should receive the same standard of treatment, regardless of his or her individual characteristics or circumstances.

Kindness – I’ve seen so much unkindness over the past couple of weeks.  So much unkindness!   And while I have to say in all fairness that it has come from many camps, one of the most vocal has been comprised of Christians.   Not only does disagreeing with someone’s lifestyle not give you the rein to be unkind about it, it is also directly counter to the core values of the person you profess to follow.  As a Christian myself, it gives me zero joy to say this, but…. I can thoroughly understand why so many people feel frustrated and/or angered or offended by Christians as a whole.  There is no better way to turn someone away – perhaps permanently – than by being judgmental and cruel, all under the name of Christianity.

Let’s be kind.  Let’s be gracious.  Let’s be compassionate:

Compassion – Compassion takes kindness one step further.  Compassion means deeply feeling for another person, and taking on their trials or misfortune as if they were your own.   To be compassionate means you want to help… whether that be simply through words or comfort or meeting some physical need.    I write most often about meeting children’s needs,  largely because I continue to see such widespread inequality in their treatment.  But I also have compassion for any group of people that is continually shamed, persecuted, and treated unfairly.

Treating people the way you want to be treated – The Golden Rule.   I’d like to think that when asked, most parents would answer that “Yes, of course we tell our children to treat people the way they’d want to be treated!”  But do we live it?  Do we show them how to do it?  Do we model it for them?  If we don’t, all the words in the world won’t make a difference.  Treat people the way you want to be treated.  ALL people.  Simultaneously the simplest and most difficult value of all.

Helping those in need – There’s a Friends episode where they squabble over whether or not there’s such a thing as an unselfish good deed.   The argument was that doing good things for others makes us feel good, thus making it just as selfish as it is altruistic.  It was of course played for laughs, but it did illuminate a very interesting truth:  Helping others DOES feel good!  And I can’t help but think that the reason it feels good is that it’s what we were meant to do.  We were meant to help others.  We were meant to work together.  We were meant to give of ourselves.

————

I don’t know about you, but I don’t enjoy fighting and unrest.  It makes me anxious, it makes me sad, and it gives me a stomach ache.  I want to focus my energy – all my energy – on the six items above.  Call me naive, but I truly believe that if more of us did just that, that everything else would fall into place.

 

10 Comments

Filed under kindness, learning, life, parenting, respect, Uncategorized

February 14, 2012 · 10:13 AM

When is it okay to “judge”?

Judgment.  It’s a word I’ve seen so many times over the past few days, it has lost all meaning.  “Who are you to judge?”  “Well aren’t we judgmental” “It is not our place to judge….”  My blog post about Tommy Jordan has the distinction of being the post that garnered the most comments I’ve gotten with this particular word, ever.

 

And I’m okay with that.

 

Here are a few of the definitions of judge by dictionary.com:

 

8.  to form a judgment  or opinion of; decide upon critically: You can’t judge a book by its cover.
9.  to decide or settle authoritatively; adjudge: The censor judged the book obscene and forbade its sale.

10. to infer, think, or hold as an opinion; conclude about or assess:

13.  to act as a judge; pass judgment: No one would judge between us.
14.  to form an opinion or estimate: I have heard the evidence and will judge accordingly.
15.  to make a mental judgment.

 

When people read my blog – or anyone’s blog – or read anything on the internet, they do all of the above.  They form an opinion, they infer, they think.   Ironically, all the people pointing their finger at me at shouting, “You’re JUDGING, shame on you!!” are doing the exact same thing they’re accusing me of doing.  They’re forming an opinion of me based on a snap shot of whatever words I’ve chosen to share.

 

I think we’ve gotten so wrapped up in a “to each his own” kind of world, that we’re so careful of not “judging”,  that we try so hard to be politically correct, that it’s suddenly not okay to point to something and say, “Wow.   That is messed up.”  Unless of course you’re pointing to the person who’s doing the pointing.   Then apparently it’s okay.  Then you’re a defender of justice.   “Who are you to judge this person??? I  would NEVER judge a person without knowing all the details.”

 

Yesterday, a friend on Facebook posted that she’d overheard a neighbor calling her 15 year old daughter a “stupid asshole.”  The first comment said, “Maybe her daughter was acting like a stupid asshole.  Teenagers are known to.”   It was followed up with, “doesn’t make it right.  But I wouldn’t judge a parent for one bad moment.”   That word judge again.  Are we really so afraid of judging that it’s not okay to hold the opinion that calling your child a “stupid asshole” isn’t a very nice thing to do?

 

It doesn’t mean I think I’m better than anyone.
It doesn’t mean I think this person is a terrible parent.
It doesn’t mean that I haven’t made my own mistakes.
It doesn’t mean I’m an expert on their family dynamic.
It doesn’t mean that I think I’m perfect.  (more things I’ve heard over the past couple of days)

 

It simply means that I disagree – strongly – with that particular decision.  And honestly?  If I ever reached that breaking point, that point where I felt I had no other recourse than to hurl insults and obscenities at my child, I would hope that someone would judge me.   I would hope that someone would stand up and say, “Whoa.  Stop.  Jen, what are you doing?”

 

A runner-up to the “judgmental” comments was “hypocritical”.  I’m a hypocrite because I advocate for respect, but I don’t respect Tommy Jordan’s parenting choices.

 

I want to be very, very clear when I say this:  I respect a lot of choices that are different from my own.   As a stay-at-home mom, I respect working parents.  As a homeschooling parent, I respect parents whose children go to school.  As a heterosexual married woman, I respect same-sex couples.  As a Christian, I respect other beliefs.

 

I do not respect Tommy Jordan’s “parenting choice” to publicly intimidate, mock, and insult his daughter.

 

I don’t need to know more details to fairly come to that decision.  He chose to show us those eight minutes of his life, and that was more than enough for me.

 

But I don’t wish him ill.  In fact I hope that someone, somewhere can touch his life and help him and his daughter.   I hope that he’s receptive to that help.  I hope that the insane amount of notoriety that this video has brought upon his family can be somehow used in a positive way.   I hope that what he chose to show us was just a man having a really bad day, and that it was not indicative of his parenting as a whole.  I hope that his family is more peaceful and more connected than they appear.

 

I’m not angry at Tommy Jordan.  I’m sad for him.  I’m sad for his daughter.  I’m sad that the great public movement that has come out of this seems to be not learning from his example, but instead focusing our energies on attacking those who dare “judge” him.

11 Comments

Filed under about me, blogging, hypocrisy, judgement, parenting

February 10, 2012 · 8:22 PM

Not my idea of a hero

 

So by now, you’ve seen the video.  It’s gone viral ….  nearly 3 million views on my last check.  A father, angered by his daughter’s rant about him on her Facebook page, video-taped himself berating her, laying out her punishment, and ultimately taking his gun and shooting nine bullets through her laptop.

I don’t want to talk about that man.  All I can do is feel sorry for him.  Happy, well-adjusted people don’t go around taping themselves shooting holes in other people’s property.

I don’t want to talk about his daughter either.  I feel sorry for her too.  Being a teenager can be hard, and I can’t imagine that having a father who publicly humiliates you is helpful in that regard.   She obviously has an unhealthy, broken relationship with her parents.  And knowing first-hand what it’s like to have a GOOD relationship with my children… my heart breaks for her.

But no, the people I want to address aren’t the father or the daughter.  I want to address the people, the tens of thousands of people, who lauded him as father of the year.  Here are just a couple of remarks from his recent viewers:

This father ROCKS! Parents need to enforce more discipline with their kids these days instead of trying to be their friend or act their age.

This guy should be voted FATHER OF THE YEAR in the US and Canada!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DAD OF THE YEAR! I think this is amazing!

Dude…you are my HERO.

Seriously, I applaud you. A parent who is a parent and not the subjugated slave to the child. Love it.

Awesome! Well done.

You’re my new, best friend!

Has the world gone completely mad?  I don’t mean that facetiously either.  I am quite literally shocked and sickened that this is the behavior we as a society hold up as model parenting.   I hear people crying that kids today are too entitled, too spoiled, too disrespectful…. and this is going to help with that?!   If this girl IS in fact acting too entitled, spoiled, and disrespectful, where might she have learned that?

Yes!  Let’s strive to be more like this man!  Let’s belittle and humiliate our children.   Let’s destroy their property.  Let’s respond to hurt and frustration with violence.  Let’s throw discussion and mutual respect and love out the window and grab our gun when it’s time for conflict resolution.  And let’s tape ourselves doing it!!  Let’s make parenting into nothing more than a schoolyard fight, a tit-for-tat war of words in which NO ONE wins, in which we stoop to the lowest common denominator, and we see who can throw the biggest tantrum.  Yes, let’s look to this man in awe.   What a hero.   What a father.  What a MAN. 

In all sincerity, I want to ask you this:  If you agree with this man’s actions, if you think this is something we should emulate… how would you feel if you were his daughter?   For that matter, how would you feel if he’d taken this action against you as a co-worker, or a relative, or a friend?

And if you tell me it’d make you see the error of your ways, if you tell me it’d make you have new respect for him… you’re lying.

All of us – as parents, as children, as friends, as citizens – respond to kindness, not to cruelty.  We respond to gentleness.  We respond to patience.  We respond to feeling that we are being heard.

This man was no doubt hurt by his daughter’s words on Facebook.   Was she wrong in posting them?   From the little that I can tell, this was a child venting to her friends, not unlike something one would write in a private diary.  Her words were strong, yes, which only shines light on how deeply she was feeling when she wrote them.     I saw many comments that said something to the effect of, “Oh she was just trying to get attention.”  And I agree!  She probably was.  It was a probably a last-ditch, desperate attempt to say, “Hey.  Mom.  Dad.  I’m hurting here.”  If that were my child writing that letter, I would first take a good long look in the mirror.  Then I would TALK TO MY CHILD.  I would try to heal that relationship before it was too late.   I would not put the final nail in the coffin (or the bullet in the laptop as it were) by publicly humiliating her, mocking her, and destroying her things.  I would not act with a knee-jerk reaction that would almost certainly ensure that she’d be pushed further away, possibly for the rest of my life.

Our job as parents is to protect our kids.  To love them, to guide them, and yes… to model appropriate behavior for them.  This man called his daughter disrespectful.  Were HIS actions respectful?  He called her immature.  Were HIS actions mature?

Parenting is hard!  I won’t argue that.  Just as with any other worthwhile relationship, there are bumps.  There are ups and downs.   There are tough spots, and sweet spots, and every-other-kind of spots in between.  It takes a lot of heart, a lot of patience, a lot of listening, and a lot of give-and-take.  What I saw in that video wasn’t heart.  It wasn’t patience.  It wasn’t listening.  It wasn’t give and take.  It was a bully of a man having a public meltdown, and making sure he took his daughter down with him.

His behavior is not something to emulate.

It’s not something to aspire to.

It’s not something to praise.

It’s a sad, angry spectacle by a sad, angry man.  It’s a cautionary tale about what not to do if you ever want to have a close, mutually respectful relationship with your child.

(If you want to read more, check out Demand Euphoria, A Bona Fide Life, and freeplaylife.  Thank you for being voices of reason in the midst of insanity)

 

 

155 Comments

Filed under hot topics, mindful parenting, parenting, rant

February 6, 2012 · 6:00 AM

The woman at the park

 

 

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

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

But I should start at the beginning.

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

I got up and approached her.

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

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

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

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

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

“THAT’S NOT WHAT IT SAYS!”

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

25 Comments

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

February 1, 2012 · 6:00 AM

The journey of an attached mom

 

I’m a mom.

I’m an imperfect mom.  I’m a mom who makes mistakes, eats my own words, and vows to do better every. single. day.  I’m a mom who, if she read back in her own blog a year (or 2 years or 5 years) ago would likely cringe in embarrassment at some of her more strongly-worded posts.  I’m a mom who once thought she knew it all, and has since admitted – publicly and otherwise – that she knows nothing.

Do I have some strong opinions about how kids should be treated?  Yup.  Will I apologize for that?  Not a chance.  And while I of course would love for all my words to come across as fair and balanced and loving towards both kids and parents, when forced to take one side or another I will choose the child.  Every time.  And I won’t apologize for that either.

But one thing that I’m afraid often fails to come through in my more… uh.. passionate posts is that parenting is not an absolute.  It’s a fluid, growing, changing, learning JOURNEY.  For all of us.  I’m often reminded by so many of you that parenting is not black and white, that it’s hard, and that we’re all doing the best we can.  What I wish though is that it was understood that I’m just doing the best I can too!  Both as a person AND as a mom.  The only difference between me and any other mom reading this is that I – for reasons I’m forever questioning – have chosen to make much of my journey public.   For better or worse, my imperfect, disjointed, sleep-deprived and caffeine-fueled words are there in black and white… to agree with, to disagree with.  To pick apart, to ridicule.

There they are.

Have I ever regretted anything I’ve shared?  Yes, I have.  But I also pride myself on the fact that I haven’t removed any posts.  They were part of the journey.  I’m the mom I am now because of that journey.  I’m the mom I am now because of the mistakes I’ve made.  I’m the mom I am now because of the things I’ve learned.  Warts and messiness and ugly bits and all.  They make me human.

All this blog really is is my own personal journey.

The journey of a mom with four kids, each one more different than the last:

My first born, who never cried, slept 8 hours at a stretch from the time he was born, and was so continually laid back and content as a baby that I thought I had this parenting thing in the bag.

Number two, who screamed like his life depended on it every day for three years, despite how much I held, nursed, wore and carried him.  Who never slept more than an hour or two at a time, and who challenged me every day to be a better parent, a more patient parent, and a parent who was willing to #1 admit that everything I thought I knew was naught, and #2 do the work I needed to do to make it better.

My youngest boy, who was one of the happiest babies I’d ever seen, but who went through some rough patches at age 6 that had me so confounded that I found myself – as a third time mother – swallowing my pride and asking for advice from other like-minded parents, for the very first time.

And my girl…. my beautiful, strong, spunky, silly girl who is literally teaching me how to be a parent all over again… who is challenging me more than I’ve ever been challenged, and is teaching me more than I ever thought possible about what kind of parent I want to be.

I know they’re not done – all four of them – teaching me what this parenting thing is all about.  I know they’re not done showing me how much I can possibly love and ache and feel for another human being.  I know they’re not done challenging me to be a better parent.  I know they’re not done pushing me to be a better person.

And it’s a good thing.  Because I know I’m not done learning.

8 Comments

Filed under about me, blogging, parenting

January 31, 2012 · 6:00 AM

Tough Love

 

I have been spending too much a little bit of spare time on Pinterest.  If you’re not familiar with it, it is essentially a virtual bulletin board, where you can create different boards for different things (recipes, vacation ideas, crafts…. whatever you’d like) and then “pin” the photos for various links you want to save.  You can share pins with others, browse what your friends are pinning,  and “like”, comment on, and re-pin others’ pins.   I’m a visual person, so I find the very concept incredibly fun and inspiring – all those annoying photos of people making heart shapes with their fingers notwithstanding.

A side effect of Pinterest though, is the visceral reaction I feel when I come across a parenting-related ‘pin’ that I disagree with.  It inevitably goes something like this:

HappyHappyHappy, PinPinPin, What?Oh.Yuck.  I finally decided to start saving these pins too, to inspire me in a different way, and to remind me of what I don’t want to do.  The most recent one was a photo of a handwritten note taped to what was presumably a front door, that read:

You have missed curfew!  Do not knock or ring the doorbell.  You may sleep on the patio.  I have been generous this time and provided a blanket.

Now, I don’t know the origin of this note.  Maybe it wasn’t real.  Maybe it was a joke.  Or maybe it was very real, and the person who wrote it thought it’d be funny to share it.

I’m not laughing.  I don’t think it’s funny when kids are mistreated.

What bothered me much more than the note though, was the sheer number of comments beneath it, praising its author for such exemplary parenting.   Since when did locking your child out of the house for the night become the harbinger of excellence in parenting?

I keep hearing that too many teens today are so disrespectful.  Bratty.  Entitled.  And you know what?  That well may be the case.  I wouldn’t know.  My teen, his 11 year old brother (who in many respects acts like a teen) and all their teenaged friends are delightful, pleasant people who I’m always happy to be around.  But for the sake of argument, I’ll say that the naysayers are right.  Teens today are more troubled than ever before.   If that were true, would it make any kind of logical sense to be anything but more compassionate, more available, and more engaged?   Would it not be more important than EVER to be there for them, to be their partner, to be that person – maybe the only person in their life – who takes them by the hand and says, “You know what, no matter what happens, I’m on your side.”   It seems to me that the teenaged years are a time to keep your relationship a top priority, not a time to actually further remove yourself from their lives (which, if you’re banishing them to the front porch is exactly what you’re doing… in a best-case scenario)

But he needs to be taught a lesson!  He needs to learn he can’t miss curfew!

I would argue that the curfew was unnecessary in the first place.    People with trusting relationships don’t need to place arbitrary limits on each other’s comings and goings.  But the curfew was there, and for whatever reason he missed it.  So what lesson might he learn from his parents’ actions?  For one thing, he’ll learn not to get caught next time.  He’ll learn not to trust his parents, and that his parents don’t trust him.  He’ll learn that being out with his friends feels like a safer, happier, more accepting place than being in his own home.  He’ll learn that when he goes through a difficult period or a struggle or a hard time in his life (and he will go through a difficult period or a struggle or a hard time in his life) that his parents will be the last people he can turn to for unconditional love, honest advice, and a supportive, sympathetic ear.

Being a teenager can be challenging at times, to be sure.  You’re trying to find your place in the world, you’re walking the fine precipice between childhood and adulthood, you’re pushing your own limits, and you’re figuring out how you want to navigate the life that’s unfolding around you.  In many ways, it’s not unlike the growing pains that my soon to be 4-year-old is experiencing, as she steps from babyhood to being a “big girl.”  Helping her, and my boys, as they transition to the next phase of their lives is teaching me to be even more present in their lives.  To be even more of a parent, a partner, and a friend.  To be more compassionate, to be more understanding, and to be more connected.

And I can’t very well do that if I’m locking them out of the house.

29 Comments

Filed under gentle parenting, mindful parenting, parenting, teens

January 6, 2012 · 12:26 PM

You’re not good enough

I have been sitting on this post for two days now, and while I’ve certainly held onto posts for longer than that, this time I just can’t stay silent any longer.   I feel sick to my stomach about this.

‘Human Barbie’ Sarah Burge Gives 7-Year-Old Daughter Breast Implant Voucher

Now, setting aside any moral or parenting issues for a moment, I have to start off by admitting a bias.   Cosmetic plastic surgery in general sort of…. well, it confuses me.  It seems to me that successful plastic surgery should be no different than properly applied makeup, ie:  you shouldn’t be able to tell you even had it.  You should look like the best version of YOU, not like a plastic caricature of Barbie someone else.   So when it’s taken to the extreme and you’re walking around with a frozen, expressionless face that screams, “I had plastic surgery!” doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose?

I don’t want to judge this mother though, I really don’t.   I feel sad for her.  I can only imagine what kind of issues lead a woman to spend $800,000 in a quest to look like a Barbie doll.    Those are not the actions of a healthy, self-accepting, well-adjusted person to be sure.  But the fact is, this really isn’t about her.  This is about an innocent and beautiful and perfect-the-way-she-is child who is being robbed of the most important thing a parent can give:  unconditional love.  This is about a child who is being told,  “You’re not good enough.”

“Happy Birthday sweetheart!  When you’re sixteen, you can get big boobs like Mommy.”  You’re not good enough

“Come watch me get my next dozen procedures, and see what you have to look forward to.”  You’re not good enough

“I’m going to help you become beautiful.”  You’re not good enough

Mom is quoted in the article as saying, “Poppy begged me for a boob job, so I gave her the voucher so she can have it after she’s 16, when it’s legal” If that is in fact true, am I alone in thinking that it’s heartbreaking that a 7-year-old would be begging for a boob job?   I have a 7-year-old.  He thinks about video games, playing with his friends, getting ice cream from the ice cream truck, and what sport he’s going to try next.  He does not think about body-altering elective surgeries.

And my little girl….

Tegan is not quite four at the time of this writing.  She is strong, and funny, and intelligent, and beautiful.   I love her, and more importantly she loves herself, exactly the way she is.   The only thing that disturbs me more than the thought of her looking forward to a hypothetical breast-enlargement surgery a decade in the future, is the thought of knowing that it was something *I* made her think was necessary.   Something that I in fact gave to her as a gift!

God knows I have my own insecurities.  But I will be damned if I pass them on to my children.  Having children, and especially having a girl, has pushed me to examine my own sense of self-worth and my own acceptance of my body, flaws and all.   And,

(I’m going to talk about boobs for a minute, so you might want to turn away if that’s too much for you.  Or if you’re my dad)

I have small boobs.  Small, as in bra shopping inevitably turns into a humiliating exercise in “Yeah… you may be more comfortable in a double A”, at which point I’m directed to a tiny rack with exactly 4 styles of bras, of either the plain training bra variety, or with padding from here to Pittsburgh.   But you know what?   I’m perfectly okay with it.   Not only am I perfectly okay with it, I’m happy.   This is what I’ve been given.  They suit me.   They’ve nursed 4 babies.   Now, I truly hope that my girl continues to accept her body, and eventually her breasts, in the same way… whether they’re big, small, or somewhere in between.   And if she ever decides to change them, or enhance or nip or tuck any other aspect of her body, it will be her choice, and not a desire born out of a mother teaching her that she won’t be beautiful until she’s spent nearly a million dollars on cosmetic procedures.  It won’t be because she’s learned at SEVEN that beauty is something that you buy.

This little seven-year-old girl has had the choice taken from her.  She’s never had the chance to know what it’s like to accept and love her body just as it is.   She’s never had the chance to know what it’s like to have her own mother accept and love her just as she is.  And that’s inexcusable.  She should be told, and shown, that she is perfect just the way she is.  She should be told, and shown, the truth in the old adage about “beauty coming from the inside.”  She should be told, and shown, that your value and worth as a human are not dependent on your outward appearance.  A seven-year-old should be innocent, soaking up the world, goofing off with her friends, running around the playground, dreaming of becoming a doctor or an astronaut or a world class equestrian.  She should not be dreaming of getting a big set of silicone boobs.

To this mom, I want to say that I feel for you.  I do.  You’re chasing after something that you’ll never grasp.  You’re telling yourself day after day that you’re not good enough either, and that is undeniably sad.   But it’s not about you anymore.  Once you become a parent, it’s never just about you again.

Yes, you’re an adult, and you make your own decisions.  Make yourself look like Barbie.  Hell, make yourself look like a Squinkie.  But telling your 7 year old she should aspire to do the same thing is not okay.

22 Comments

Filed under acceptance, being happy with what is, hot topics, mindful parenting, parenting