Category Archives: parenting

April 23, 2017 · 8:20 PM

9 Reasons I (Still) Refuse To Be The Meanest Mom

Someone recently asked me when I was going to stop writing about not being the “mean mom.” My answer? As long as people keep writing articles glorifying being mean, I’ll keep writing about the alternative.

This one, published by Scary Mommy, was the latest one to come across my desk, but there is no shortage of others. Be the mean mom, they tell us, not the nice mom. Not the cool mom. Not the friend. In reading this one for a second time, I see and understand that it was written in a sort of tongue-in-cheek, humorous style. And please understand, it’s not that I don’t have a good sense of humor. I do. (Ask my dog. He thinks I’m freaking hysterical.) I just don’t happen to find humor in disparaging kids, and in treating them as less than …. which is exactly what articles like this do.

The other side deserves to be heard. The other side needs to be heard. Here then are the author’s 9 reasons for being the mean mom, and my response from the other side.

1. I’m not your friend. Not even close.

I say: I will always be your friend… the best friend you could ever ask for. I’ve written about being friends with my kids again and again. And I’ll continue to do so. For me, it’s pretty simple. Friends are going to come and go, for a variety of reasons. But as parents, we have the unique opportunity to be the friend that’s always there. The trusted rock that our kids can count on… not just now, but for the rest of their lives. I will proudly, unabashedly, always be that friend for my kids. In fact I strongly believe that it’s one of my most important jobs when it comes to being a mother.

2. I’m not here to be cool. I’m here to raise cool kids.

This is one thing we may partially agree on. Anyone who ever accused me of trying to be cool wouldn’t get very far. I’m pretty much a big dork. I’m socially awkward, I trip over air, and I laugh way harder than I should at “That’s what she said” jokes. But I’m perfectly me, and I encourage my kids to be their own best selves too. It’s not a zero sum game, where I have to be “mean mom” in order for my kids to be raised right (or whatever version of “right” that society deems appropriate). I do my best to be kind, and respectful, and a person with integrity. And guess what? My kids are kind, and respectful, and people with integrity. Who cares about cool?

3. Because nagging works.

Lots of things “work”, especially in the short term. But that doesn’t mean that anything that works is the best choice, or the kindest choice. Being a mom should be about the relationship. Nagging doesn’t tend to be a great thing for relationships, and rightly so. No one likes to be nagged. Bottom line: if I wouldn’t like it said – or done – to me, I don’t want to say or do it to my kids.

4. I married a cool dad.

I think this is meant to be a take on the antiquated good cop/bad cop paradigm, where one parent needs to be the soft one, and the other the “heavy.” But it doesn’t have to be that way. My kids have a cool mom and a cool dad (or, at least, uncool in equal measure). We are different, to be sure, because we are vastly different people. But good and bad? Nice and mean? Nope. We’re partners; both on the same team.

5. It just plain works.

Didn’t we already do this one? Sure, it works. Know what else works? Being nice.

6. It takes a village, except when the villagers are all too nice.

The author feels that a trip to the playground should carry with it a mandatory contract that reads, “If you see another kid being an asshole, don’t hesitate. Say something.” Gah. Again with the calling kids assholes. So here’s the thing: There seems to be a false dichotomy that states that there are exactly two ways for parenting (and by extension, society) to operate. 1) Parents are “mean”, children behave, and there is order and harmony in all the land. Or 2) Parents are too nice (ie: pushovers) children run wild, and chaos and bedlam reign supreme. But there are other options. Yup, sometimes it really does take a village. And yup, sometimes a trip to the playground does require intervention involving another child and/or another parent. I have been there. But I’ve never met a situation that couldn’t be at least a little more quickly diffused, a little more softened, a little more pleasant for all involved… by being nice. I don’t care who you are, young or old. God knows we could use a little more “nice.”

7. Kids will suck the nice right out of you. Let them.

We’re not born with a finite amount of “nice.” If we are treating our kids kindly from a genuine place of love and respect (and not, for example, from a misplaced sense of martyrdom or insecurity), we literally never run out of niceness. No one can suck it out of us. No one can take it away. In fact, it’s one of those emotional muscles that actually increases the more we use it. I’ve been a parent for over 20 years, and I still manage to be nice to my kids. I think I’ll even be able to be nice to them tomorrow. Crazy! (But true.) Even crazier? My kids are nice to me, too!

8. I refuse to raise little manipulators.

Oof. Listen, it’s not that I think kids are perfect (they’re human), and it’s not that I don’t think kids – past a certain age – can’t manipulate (again, they’re human). It’s just that 1) being nice to your kids doesn’t turn them into manipulators; 2) being mean doesn’t preclude it – in fact I think it increases the odds exponentially; 3) children, like all of us, tend to behave as well as they are treated; and 4) calling kids manipulators (and brats and assholes etcera) is tired and uncool and contributing to the problem. Not solving it. Look at it this way: if someone was assuming the worst about you and calling you a name, would you be more or less likely to act pleasantly toward that person in the future?

9. Still want to be cool? Just wait until you’re the grandmother.

Nope, it’s not about being cool. Not even a little bit. It’s not about being liked. It’s not even about being nice. It’s about something far simpler. It’s about treating my kids the way I’d like to be treated. At the end of the day, I wouldn’t like it very much if an important person in my life measured their relational success against how mean they were to me.

In fact, I’d actually appreciate the opposite.

Save

8 Comments

Filed under gentle parenting, hot topics, mindful parenting, parenting, rant, respect

March 28, 2017 · 9:14 PM

Saying “Yes”, And Why I’ll Always Be Their Friend

One of my patrons on Patreon recently pointed me to this video that touts itself as the only parenting advice you’ll ever need. I watched the video, and I disagreed. 🙂 The following video is my response.

3 Comments

Filed under gentle parenting, parenting

· 4:28 PM

Living In The Moment

One of the things I love doing on my Facebook page is asking a basic question of the group, one that I know will elicit a lot of responses, and hopefully starting a (often important, and needed) conversation. Even before I read through all the responses – and please know that I do, very carefully, read through all of the responses – your enthusiasm in joining the conversation tells me two things: 1) That we all want to be heard… that we all have questions, and struggles, and things to share, and that platforms like blogs and Facebook groups still serve a real purpose, and 2) That we’re all in this together. I think that one of the most helpful things to know (not just with parenting, but with life) is that we are not alone. That someone, somewhere, is out there who gets it. Who understands how we feel. Who knows what it’s like to be facing what we face. It’s a powerful thing, and one I don’t take for granted.

Most recently, I asked,

What is one thing that you struggle with as a parent? Something that you know you want to do differently (such as less yelling, more patience, etc) but that you are having trouble implementing?

I got an overwhelming response, both in numbers and in sheer honesty and vulnerability. So thank you. I very quickly realized that what was meant to be a one-off blog post really needed to become a regular series. Because I don’t care how good of a mom you are: We all struggle with something.

The thing that stood out to me the most in my first read-through of the comments was the one that’s been my own personal struggle since… well, forever: Being present. Being in the moment. It’s something that I’ve thought about, and learned about, and written about, many many times in the 20 years that I’ve been a parent. Tegan (who’s 9 at the time of this writing, and is teaching me a whole new set of parenting truths after her three brothers) has been instrumental in showing me of the importance of living in the moment.

But still, I have to remind myself. Still, I have to practice.

And I’m not alone.

Just a few of my fellow like-minded parents:

Stopping, breathing, and taking in the moment. Appreciating their age, abilities and achievements without being frustrated by lesser things. ~ Bea L

Really struggling with patience these days. ~ Jess F

Being more present with my kids and not giving in to frustration. ~ Rebecca P

Slowing down and enjoying the moments. I always seem to be going and trying to clean, get dishes or laundry done and I tend to e short with my kids and not fully engage in play or conversation. ~ Stefanie S

Being impatient and not being able to just be present with them. Working on it. Getting better, but it is hard. ~ Karen E

I have spent the entire last year working on my mental health, and a huge, huge part of that work was learning to live in the moment. Our brains (or at least my brain) always want to be solving problems, and thinking about the next thing, or the last thing, or the thing that’s coming up next week, or the thing that happened 6 months ago. When you’re not truly living in the moment, you’re either living in the past, or in the future. And in the past and in the future, there’s always a problem to solve. It’s exhausting.

So all the typical “live in the moment” advice – Breathe; Count to ten.; Look around and ground yourself by appreciating the sights and sounds and smells; Don’t sweat the small stuff – While it’s all well and good, it wasn’t until I learned the problem-solving piece that I felt like I really understood what I needed to do, and what I needed to remember.

In the moment, in this moment, there is no problem to solve.

And it sounds simplistic, and easy to argue: Of course there are problems. We don’t have enough money. The car’s in the shop. The kids are always fighting. The 2 year old’s sick. The 4 year old’s having a tantrum. I have to make dinner and make lunches for tomorrow and get my son to football and my daughter to karate and there’s the thing at church and it’s all just SO MUCH.

Yes. Sure. I get it. I get it.

But right now, right now as you read these words, there are no problems to solve. It’s okay to give yourself (and your brain! Your poor, overworked brain) a break. It’s okay to breathe and NOT WORRY about how you handled that last problem, or how you’re going to handle the next one. It’s okay to truly and deeply and fully live right now, and give yourself permission to rest…. to rest in the moment, to rest in the presence of your child, to rest in the presence of yourself.

Right now, in the moment, there is no problem to solve.

That one piece of truth, heard in the right place and the right time, was probably one of the single best bits of wisdom I’ve ever received… not just for life in general, but for my parenting as well. And I still have to remind myself – often – but I’m getting better.

Right now, there is no problem to solve.

And my shoulders relax, and I’m able to exhale, and my weary soul feels a welcome sense of relief. I don’t have to figure it all out right now. And then, in that moment, I can be the mom I know I can be. The mom I know I should be. And when I miss the mark (and I do sometimes miss the mark, because I’m human)? Then I have the next moment. And then the one after that.

One day, one moment, at a time.

And it sounds kinda hokey, and a little woo-woo (and I hate woo-woo) … but it helps. So much.

You have permission to rest.

Hug your kid, smell the flowers, jump in the mud puddle. Right now, there is no problem to solve.

3 Comments

Filed under mental health, mindful parenting, not sweating the small stuff, parenting, perspective, self care

March 15, 2017 · 11:38 AM

The Problem With Kids These Days

It never fails.

I post something against spanking – or against punishment in general – and within the first couple of comments is the first of many arguments that sounds something like this:

“That’s the problem with kids today! No one disciplines anymore! That’s why this generation of kids are such entitled brats.” Without asking any questions, without getting any clarification, without having any sort of discussion. Every time. Every time. Sometimes the retort is complete with F words, and often it’s accompanied with words like “liberal” (or its ugly, derogatory derivative), or “snowflake.” Sometimes people point to the “everyone gets a trophy” mentality. Someone inevitably brings religion – or the lack thereof – into the mix. But no matter what variation it takes, the message is still clear in its lament:

These damn kids these days! And their damn parents who don’t DISCIPLINE them!

I’d be downright bored with its predictably if it wasn’t so frustrating.

First, let’s be clear. When people say “discipline” in this context, they don’t actually mean “discipline” (which means to teach). They mean spanking. Spanking and discipline are not synonymous. But let’s just say for the sake of argument that they’re the same thing.

So fine: no one spanks anymore, and therefore we have whole generation of mostly entitled, spoiled, disrespectful brats.

Please hear me when I say this: The above statement is false. Untrue. Erroneous. Fallacious. It starts with a completely flawed premise. The majority of parents do (unfortunately) still admit to spanking. Hard numbers are obviously hard to come by, but many articles and studies, including this one, cite it as high as 70 to 90%.

70 to 90%!

Most parents still spank. So if kids these days really are extra entitled or spoiled, you’re gonna have to blame it on something other than a lack of spanking. And that’s not just me spouting stuff. It’s fact. Simple math. The argument is invalid.

The question remains though: Is this generation exceptionally spoiled? Entitled? Disrespectful? I’m going to let Alfie Kohn answer that, because he addresses the issue so thoroughly and eloquently:

That’s why no generation of teens and young adults has ever been as self-centered as this one. Take it from journalist Peter Wyden, the cover of whose book on the subject depicts a child lounging on a divan eating grapes while Mom fans him and Dad holds an umbrella to protect him from the sun: It’s become “tougher and tougher to say ‘no’ [to children] and make it stick,” he insists.

and

Or listen to the lament of a parent who blames progressive child development experts for the fact that her kids now seem to believe “they have priority over everything and everybody.”

and

Or consider a pointed polemic published in The Atlantic. Sure, the author concedes, kids have always been pleasure seekers, but longtime teachers report that what we’re currently witnessing “is different from anything we have ever seen in the young before.” Parents teach “nothing wholeheartedly” and things come so easily to children nowadays that they fail to develop any self-discipline. Forget about traditional values: Today, it’s just a “culte du moi.”

Pretty telling, right? He concludes with this:

Powerful stuff. Except now that I think about it, those three indictments may not offer the best argument against today’s parents and their offspring. That’s because they were published in 1962, 1944, and 1911, respectively. (~all quotes take from his article, Spoiled Rotten – A Timeless Complaint.)

People have been lamenting “kids these days” since forever. This is not something new. This indictment of the current generation of kids and young adults is no different than the one that occurred when I was a kid… and when my parents were kids… and when my parents’ parents were kids…

People just historically like to blame kids (and by extension, those kids’ terrible parents) for all of society’s ills.

But you know what? I don’t buy it. I don’t. I see this generation of kids and young adults and I see kids who are smart and creative and selfless. I see kids who put others’ needs before their own. Kids who care about their peers, about their families, about the issues facing the people and the world around them. I see kids who are strong. Resilient. Confident. I see kids who are quite literally changing the world with their ingenuity and with their enthusiasm.

I see kids and I hold them in high regard…. not for who they’ll potentially be in the future, but for who they are right now.

There’s nothing wrong with today’s kids. In fact, the real problem with kids today? Adults. Adults who pre-judge them based on their own biases, and never even give them a chance.

3 Comments

Filed under parenting, spanking, Uncategorized

March 8, 2017 · 9:56 AM

Sometimes I’m An Asshole (But I Don’t Advertise It On My Car)

A friend recently sent me this photo she came across, I think in equal parts because it irritated her, AND because people like to send me things that they think will irritate me, as an impetus for a new blog post. (Irritated Jen = Writing Jen)

And she was right, because the photo did irritate me. I sat on it for awhile though, and looked at it again, and looked at it through different perspectives. And…. yeah, it still irritates me.

I get it, I think. I don’t actually think the intention is a bad one. I think it’s likely an antidote to the “Proud parent of an honor student, blah blah” (I have my beef with those stickers too). I think it’s likely just saying, “Hey, my kid’s not perfect, but that’s okay, and I love him anyway.”

But here’s the thing: Aside from not being particularly nice, stickers like this promote childism in the biggest way. When was the last time you saw a bumper sticker saying, “My wife sure is a bitch sometimes, but I love her anyway?” Most rational people would see something like that and recognize that it’s not cool. Or kind. Or productive. But we live in a society where it is not only accepted, but celebrated, to treat kids as lesser than. To treat kids with less respect and less kindness than we’d treat other family members. To treat kids with less consideration for their feelings than we’d extend to other loved ones. To treat kids as less than human.

Are children – any children – perfect? Of course not. They’re human beings. Are adults – any adults – perfect? Of course not. They’re human beings. We all have our moments, to be sure. I’m sometimes less than kind to my husband, and he’s sometimes less than kind to me (Ask us about the recent nearly knock-down drag out fight about asparagus…. except maybe don’t, because I’m not sure all parties are ready to joke about it yet) Everyone has their ugly (re: HUMAN) moments. The difference is, in real life, we accept this and work through it and deal with it in a healthy way. We don’t make announcements about it on our cars.

Stickers like this may seem completely innocent, and funny even. But in order to accept them, we need to be honest with ourselves and recognize that while sure, it’s dealing with a genuine human condition, it is also unfair and childist, and singling children out in a unkind and hurtful way. We need to be honest with ourselves and recognize the fact that very few people would be okay and/or humored by this if it singled out wives, or girlfriends, or husbands, or parents.

Until we, as a society, can do that, maybe it’s a message best left off our cars.

Save

Want To Stop Nagging Your Kids To Do Chores? Then Stop

A few inevitable facts of housekeeping:

If you want to have clean dishes to eat off of, you’re going to have to wash them.**
If you want to have a bathroom – and floors and kitchens and bedrooms – that are at least relatively sanitary, you’re going to have to occasionally make time for some sort of cleaner and a swoop of a mop or a sponge or a paper towel.
If you want to wear clothes that are clean and odor-free, you’re eventually going to have to throw in a load of laundry.

They’re maybe not your favorite things to do – they’re not mine – but they don’t have to be unpleasant drudgery either. They’re just a part of life, and a part of keeping a nice home. Viewing them as a voluntary act of service for yourself and your family goes a long way towards making them, at a minimum, more tolerable.

Chores should never be an area of contention between you and your children.

I see article after article with mainstream advice about how to stop the need for nagging and get your darn kids to just do their chores already. They may suggest any number of variants of charts or stickers or rewards or punishments, but they all essentially say the same thing:

The answer lies in control and manipulation.

Bribe your kids, punish your kids, reward your kids (which, by the way, are all sides of the same coin). Just get them to dutifully do what you want. Then the chores get done, you don’t have to nag, and the problem is solved. But is it?

Using manipulation or coercion – and make no mistake, that’s exactly what these tactics employ – is a lose/lose proposition. Sure, it may “work” in the sense that the chores get done, but it comes at a price.

No one likes to be manipulated. Let’s just start there. It will cause your kids to resent cleaning. Or you. Or both. And isn’t that the exact opposite of what you want? Both when it comes to your relationship with your child, and with the harmony of your family working together as one cohesive unit? Mandating chores, especially in an authoritarian manner, will only make your children view them as, well… chores. Something unpleasant. Something that they’re doing simply because they’re forced to do it, and not because it’s nice to have clean floors or clean clothes or clean dishes. Something that they’re doing because their little sticker chart says it’s time, and not because it feels good to take pride of ownership by taking care of your things and of your space.

And there’s a larger problem. Children are not second class citizens who are here to do our bidding. They are human beings who are deserving of the same care and respect and mindful communication as any other loved one. If I have a problem or a frustration or a concern with my husband, I don’t make him a chart. I don’t lay out a list of things he needs to do differently to make me happy.

I talk to him. And I give my kids the same consideration.

So what do you do when you’re finding yourself frustrated with or yelling or nagging your kids about chores? You stop doing it. Seriously. Just stop. If there’s a chore that’s undone that’s bothering you, do the chore. Then figure out why it is that you’re so stressed about it in the first place. If you are yelling or nagging or otherwise being unkind, that’s a *you* problem, not a *them* problem. It’s not your kids’ job to regulate your emotions or your behavior.

And I get it. I do. Sometimes things just get off-kilter. I get stressed, my routine gets thrown off, I start to get snippy. When it happens, it’s a sign that I need to 1) Take a step back and evaluate what’s going on with me that’s making me respond that way. Is it just because we’ve been too busy? Have I not been taking care of myself? Am I worried or stressed about something that’s completely unrelated to my house or family? And 2) Talk to my family about it. A sincere and forthright, “Hey guys, I’ve been feeling a little overwhelmed lately because of xyz, so would you mind giving me some extra help with – {whatever I need help with} – this week?” is a lot more effective, and respectful! than trying to manipulate their behavior through rewards or punishments. And you know what? When I do need to ask for extra help, 99 times out of 100 they are more than happy and willing to give it to me. (The one percent accounts for the fact that they are indeed humans and not robots.)

Finally, because it’s something that gets misinterpreted every single time I write about this:

Does this mean then that I just set myself up as a martyr, someone who does all the housework myself, even to my own detriment? No! We all pitch in. I do do the bulk of it (and I’m happy to do it), just because I’m a stay at home mom and have essentially signed up for this. But Mike does most of the cooking. 16 year old does the dishes. 20 year old usually takes out the trash and recylables. 9 year old and 12 year old step in with pet care. And on those deep clean days – AKA company’s coming and things are looking a little squidgy around the edges – any one of us might be yielding that broom, or duster, or mop, or toilet brush…

Without ever having to create a chore chart to make it happen.

(**Or get paper plates and plastic silverware! You do you. I won’t judge.)

5 Comments

Filed under gentle parenting, mindful parenting, parenting, respect

January 24, 2017 · 8:54 PM

Dear Parents Who Are Dreading The Teen Years

paxtontrail

The scene:

A Wednesday night, after dinner.

I had music blasting on my little bluetooth speaker, because I’d been working on building a new playlist, and wanted to listen to it while I picked up the table. Paxton, who’s 16 and a talented musician who’s been instrumental (ha, see what I did there?) in helping me discover new bands to listen to, came into the room just as the husband had picked up the ukelele and started to strum along to the music when a new song came on.

“Paxton! This is the Best. Song. Ever” I told him. “See if you can play it.”

He grabbed my acoustic guitar from its stand in the corner – where it lives, sadly, mostly untouched by me – and quickly picked up the chorus of the Best Song Ever. I cranked the volume even further, and he continued to play while Tegan (who’s 8 and never misses an opportunity for a dance party) grabbed my hands and twirled me, laughing, around the room. Everett (12 going on 17) heard the commotion and eventually joined us, curling up on the couch next to the cat. The bond he has with that cat gives me serious relationship goals. Not just pet relationship goals, but relationship goals in general.

The song ended and the next one began… but no one really noticed. Everett kept petting the cat, and Tegan kept dancing, and Paxton kept playing, challenging himself to play along by ear with even the most unfamiliar songs.

At some point, Spencer (19) came into the room and announced, “It’s so nice having socks.” We all stopped and looked at him. If you know Spencer, you know he’s the king of the non-sequitur, but that was random, even for him. And then I realized he was wearing new socks that he’d gotten for Christmas…. which is the goofiest, most cliche Christmas present ever, except he needed them and wanted them and asked for them. And in that moment, he appreciated them, and his comment wasn’t so strange after all. He laughed at the way it had sounded, and we went back to dancing, and singing, and playing.

So is that what it looks like after dinner every night in our house? Well, no, but it’s not unusual for us either. And I share it today for one simple reason: I want you to know, dear-reader-who’s-stressing-out-about-the-teenage-years, that having teens is really freaking FUN.

I always hesitate to pick a “favorite” age, because they’ve all been wonderful. Seriously. But I think I enjoy them more and more as the years pass. I enjoy the snuggly baby years (but then there’s that whole getting no sleep thing), and I enjoy the sweet, exploring toddler years (but then there’s that whole frustration on both of our parts as they learn about and test their budding independence thing), and I enjoy the young childhood years (and really have no disclaimer for that). But the teen years… I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated being a parent more than I do right now.

Teens are funny and intelligent and interesting creatures.

Just a few of the many, many reasons I’m enjoying my boys more than ever:

They make me laugh. We laugh around the dinner table a LOT. Not politely chuckle, but LAUGH, with full-on snorts and tears and gasps for air.

They make me think. All three boys have their own ideas and opinions about religion, and about politics. They have their own unique views about the world around them. I genuinely feel privileged to get to talk to them about it, to learn from them, to think about things in a new light and in a new way, and to learn to appreciate the world from an angle other than my own.

They inspire me. If you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you likely know about the journey I’ve been on to discover who I am, and what it means to be my own authentic self, not worrying about what others think of me. But my boys? They already have that, in spades. They know who they are, and they have more integrity than I’ve seen in many adults. This year I got to witness one of my boys carrying something incredibly difficult, and he carried it with so much grace. It was something that a child never should have shouldered on his own, but something he carried in part to protect me…. and it was poignant and painful and I wish that he hadn’t had to do it. But it showed me – in a way I hadn’t seen before – how much maturity and class that he possessed. Light years ahead of where I was at that age. Light years ahead of where I am at my current age.

They are great friends and companions. The popular opinion in current parenting lore is that you should avoid being friends with your teens at all cost. But I think that that’s bunk. Teens make the best friends! I love to hike with them, to talk with them, to laugh with them, to share my life with them. I think that if you’re not friends with your teens you are seriously missing out on something great.

They are interesting conversationalists. To be clear, I enjoy talking to my kids when they are younger too, but there’s just something really cool about the mature conversations you get to have with teens. Not only can you talk about shared interests like TV shows and books and movies and music, but you can talk about the sticky things like politics and religion. You can talk about life and relationships and the thrill of a first love and the betrayal of a false friend. You can talk about hopes and dreams and disappointments in a way that you just can’t do when they’re younger. You can talk about Donald Trump, and about news around the globe. I love hearing my boys’ unique take on current events and all the goings on in their lives and in the world around us.

They still need me. One of the interesting thing about teens is that while they are often independent adults… sometimes they still just need mom. They come to me with their problems, they share with me honestly, they get me in the middle of the night when they’re sick. They ask for advice for everything from blisters to broken hearts to ingrown toenails. They’re six feet tall and fearlessly forging their own paths…. but I still get to be mom.

Even so,

They’re independent. There’s a whole new dynamic in the house once you have teens. They cook for themselves. They pick up after themselves (~~sometimes~~ usually). They do their own troubleshooting. They largely keep track of their own life. Just by virtue of their age and ability there is a different give and take in the relationship that didn’t exist when they were younger and required more direct care. I bring them fresh-baked cookies when they’re at their computers (unless they’ve made them themselves, something that Everett excels at), and they bring me coffee when my cup is empty.

But wait, are there ever bumps in the road? OF COURSE. They’re still humans, still doing the human thing. The reality is that being a teen is hard sometimes, that there are inevitably going to be growing pains, and that sooner or later there are going to be problems to solve and hiccups to be worked through.

Relationships – of any kind – require care and attention, and relationships with your teens are no exception. But it is NOT a foregone conclusion that when you have teens that they are going to be sullen and angry and rebellious. A good relationship with your teens is very possible.

Is it work sometimes?

Yes.

It is worth it?

Yes.

A million times, yes.

EverettSave

Save

2 Comments

Filed under parenting, teens

December 11, 2016 · 12:04 PM

I’m Loving My Kids And Calling It Kindness

present

Every year at Christmas time, there’s a sudden rush to share articles warning us about “spoiling” our kids.

Don’t get them everything they’re asking for!

Don’t give into their whims!

Don’t SPOIL them!

This one particular piece (titled We’re Killing Our Kids and Calling It Love) that recently came through my news feed brought a dire and overwrought prediction of killing our children through our generosity. We’re too concerned with our children being happy, she tells us. So we’re spoiling them, and in turn we’re harming their character. But wait, is it really so wrong to want to our children to be happy?

According to this author it is.

Isn’t that what we’re after? Happy children?

I hope not.

The measuring stick of successful parenting is definitely not happy children. Well-adjusted, responsible, kind, and selfless? Absolutely. Happy and spoiled? No way.

Later on, she says:

The truth is that giving them everything they want and ask for is the opposite of showing them love. It’s showing them that they’re the center of the universe, and it’s teaching them that the purpose of their lives is fulfillment of their material desires.

Here’s the thing. The article is making two rather large and erroneous assumptions. The first is that parents who are generous with their children believe that “things” will buy their child’s happiness, and the second is that spoiling occurs when children are given too much.

Neither of these are true.

To start, happy and spoiled are oxymorons. A child who is genuinely happy cannot be spoiled, and a child who is genuinely spoiled cannot be happy. True spoiling occurs not when a child is given too much, but when a child is given too little … No, not too little material things, but too little love, too little attention, and too little connection. The problem isn’t “stuff”: the problem is an unhealthy base relationship. The problem is that the child is not being shown and modeled generosity, or kindness, or respect. The problem is a lack of a human connection, or an emphasis of stuff in place of relationship.

Giving of ourselves, sharing abundance, and showing our children generosity is not synonymous with “spoiling”. In fact, you know what happens when you show your kids kindness? They become adults who are kind. You know what happens when you show your kids generosity? They become adults who are generous.

Giving of ourselves as parents is what we should be doing. We’re hard-wired to selflessly give to those we love. I see it as my job as a parent (and for that matter, as a conscientious human being) to give more. Not less.

More generosity. Not less.

More time. More attention. More kindness.

And yes, when we can, more of those material things that make their life more comfortable, or colorful, or enjoyable. I do want to raise children that are happy. I want to raise children that are “well-adjusted, responsible, kind, and selfless.” Of course. I also want to raise children that know how good it feels to give to the people we love. I want to raise children that understand that when we give to others it creates more abundance, not less. I want to raise children that understand that while yes, material things aren’t what make the world go round, that they don’t have to carry any sort of guilt for enjoying them. (She says as she sips on her overpriced coffee and types away on her laptop on her high speed wifi) We all have and appreciate certain material things, and to justify our own baubles but purposely deny our children – in an effort to teach some sort of lesson – is inconsistent, hypocritical, and counterproductive.

Giving to our children… truly giving, from the heart… does not spoil them.

Truly “spoiling” a child requires a relationship that is insincere, shallow, and detached.

A relationship in which a child is treated with kindness and generosity is very much the opposite.

Save

2 Comments

Filed under hot topics, parenting, Uncategorized

November 30, 2016 · 12:22 PM

Co-Sleeping: The Things That No One Tells You

teganteddybear

We never planned to co-sleep with our kids. Like unschooling, and baby-wearing, and regular-length (what the world likes to call “extended”) breastfeeding, the idea all came later… once we were face to face with this first little human we were lucky enough to get to call our son. Spencer – who, though it surely defies all rules of time and space, is 19 at the time of this writing – had a beautiful crib in his beautifully decorated nursery. It was great for holding stuffed animals, and I think he might have taken a nap or two in there, but yeah, it was otherwise never used.

In hindsight, there were many reasons that we brought him to bed with us, but the biggest one was that it simply didn’t make sense for him to be anywhere else. He spent nine months in my womb, completely connected, warm, safe, feeling my heart beat… only to be born to sleep in a dark room all by himself? It was illogical. Plus, in those early days when I was still breastfeeding multiple times a night, what could possibly be an easier and gentler way (on the both of us) than just turning over on my side, and quietly nursing him back to sleep?

Three more kids, and nearly twenty years later, and we have shared our bed more often than not… sometimes with one kid, sometimes with two. It was one of the best parenting decisions we never knew we’d choose to make.

These are just a few of the things we learned in the trenches:

1. They’re bed hogs. No, really. A tiny, 8 pound baby can position itself in such a way that it takes up the space of a thousand Great Danes. And a toddler? Forget it. You get half an inch of mattress space, if you’re lucky. I don’t know how it happens. Nighttime falls and they turn into little Houdinis.

2. If you get up to use the bathroom, all bets are off and you’ll lose your spot. And since you never want to wake a sleeping baby… you cram yourself into a teeny tiny ball and hope for the best.

3. You’ll get peed on. And pooped on. And occasionally, unfortunately, puked on. Everyone who’s ever co-slept knows the feeling of waking up to something… wet… followed by that moment of confusion and apprehension as you wake up enough to determine what variety of wetness you’re dealing with. Is it going to be a “get everyone up and strip the kid and strip the whole bed catastrophe” or a “change a quick diaper and PJ bottoms, throw down a towel, and wait till daylight to deal with it little leak?”

4. You’ll get physically injured. Squirmy sleeping babies and toddlers are quite adept at throwing elbows in your eyes, and feet in your groin, and fists at your boobs. Sometimes you get throat punched. It’s a fun way to wake up.

5. You won’t just share the bed with your child. You’ll share your bed with your child plus their whole entourage, which may include: stuffed animals, matchbox cars, baby dolls, Cheerios, and the pine cone that they picked up on your last nature walk.

6. They’ll come back. None of my kids made an abrupt transition to their own beds. They’d choose to try their own beds for awhile, then came back to ours. Then they’d try their own again, maybe for a longer time period this time … and then come back to ours. All our boys (12, 16, 19), have of course been sleeping on their own for a very long time now, but a period of boomerang behavior is expected and commonplace when you’re letting them move at their own pace.

7. You’ll get criticism if you share. And QUESTIONS. Oh dear Lord, so very many questions. Aren’t you afraid you’ll roll over onto them?** How do you keep them from falling out of the bed? Don’t you worry they’ll never leave? How will they learn to fall asleep without you? And my personal favorite: When/where do you ever have sex if you’re sharing a bed with your child??

And finally,

8. When it’s actually over, when they’ve officially chosen their own bed over yours… you’ll remember the sweetness of their little bodies snuggled up against you; the smell of their hair in the middle of the night; their warm hand wrapped around your back; the deep, even, and contented sound of their breathing; the feeling of genuine connection and peace and love; the joy of holding them close to your heart; the pure bliss of letting them be your babies, for just a little while longer.

And you’ll deeply, and genuinely, and profoundly miss it… black eyes and mystery wet spots and all.

_______________________________________________________

**Interested in co-sleeping? Always make sure you do it safely!**

Don’t try sleeping with a young infant in something like a recliner.
Always use a bed with a firm mattress, one that’s plenty big enough for the both of you.
Avoid pillows, fluffy comforters, stuffed animals, etc around young babies
Never, ever sleep beside your baby when you are under the influence of any drugs or alcohol.
Put your baby on the side of a bed pushed up against the wall. Or, use a bed rail. OR, invest in a sidecar sleeper that abuts to your bed. Fill in any gaps with a rolled up blanket.
In our house, we always did either wall, bed rail, or co-sleeper (at different points in our journey), then baby, then mom, then dad. As they got older they graduated to sleeping in between us… usually positioned like a starfish, in order to take up the maximum amount of space as possible. 🙂

Happy snuggling!

1 Comment

Filed under attachment parenting, parenting

November 23, 2016 · 9:20 AM

Feeling Their Joy And Their Pain

I was recently talking to a fellow mom friend about how, once you become a parent, everything you feel is heightened. Seen and felt through your children’s eyes and hearts, excitement is greater, joy is more palpable, and pain is more acute. When my kids are happy, the happiness I share with and for them is far greater than any happiness I can ever feel for myself. When my kids are hurt, the hurt that I share with and for them is far greater than any affliction I could ever experience for myself. It’s all deeper. More primal.

As someone who’s already hard wired to feel the outer extreme of every emotion that passes through my heart, this isn’t necessarily a good thing. I mean, is manic elation or total despair – even when it comes from a place of pure love – ever really a positive thing? I’m working on it. But for better or worse, it’s there. Whatever my kids feel, I feel it too. And I feel it hard.

These past several weeks have seen some ridiculously high highs and painfully low lows when it comes to the kids, and my capacity to feel both (just as acutely) at the same exact time always amazes me.

Tegan – who’s 8 at the time of this writing – has had a series of events over the past couple of months that have in her own words “made her life complete.”

I am so, so thankful and ecstatic that we’ve been able to make it all happen for her.

First, we took her to Fan Fest to meet her favorite actress of all time, Millie Bobby Brown. (If you don’t know who this is, grab a cup of your favorite beverage, silence your cell phone, and go watch Stranger Things in its entirety. Stat.)

teganandmillie

Then, the night before last, we took her to see Adele in concert, making good on a hypothetical promise I made her when she was probably three years old. (“If she ever does a North American tour again, and comes to Phoenix, we’ll go.”) We bought the tickets almost a year ago, her first concert was postponed due to illness, and as we finally sat in that stadium on Monday night I couldn’t believe that 1) we’d actually gotten tickets, and 2) we were really there. Most surreal concert ever.

adele

And in between meeting celebrities and watching concerts, she was hard at work rehearsing the part of Alice in a local homeschool production of Alice and Wonderland (which wrapped this weekend, and went very well)

alicebyposter

It was an embarrassment of riches in a very short amount of time, and to see her face, and to feel her joy… it made my life feel complete as a parent too. Pure and total happiness.

And at the same time all of this happiness was going on, one of my boys was experiencing one of the most painful transitions (if not the most painful transition) of his life. My heart has hurt for him… the kind of hurt that keeps you up at night. And there’s nothing I can do to fix it. Nothing I can do to make it better. All I can do is be there, and be a sounding board, and be a cheerleader, and be a mom who tries to absorb some of the hurt so that he doesn’t have to carry it alone.

Two diametrically opposed feelings, intersecting at that most tender and sensitive part of the heart… the part that I fear may break at the mere exposure of its existence.

I’ve written a lot about thinking too much (and indeed, I do that too), but it’s the overwrought feeling that’s going to be the death of me. Feeling so deeply hurts. But the opposite? Not feeling at all? The mere thought of a life devoid of emotion pains me even more. I kind of feel like unbridled empathy is what I’m here for. I need to learn to harness it, to be sure. To learn to protect myself, even as I absorb the feelings of everyone else.

But in the meantime, I’ll be over here in my little ball of emotions, swimming in the primal joy and deep ache that threaten to swallow me whole. Knowing that there’s a balance somewhere, just beyond my grasp, and that eventually, somehow, someday, I’ll learn to embrace it… without taking myself down in the process.

empatheticbadass

Save

Category Archives: parenting

Connect With Me

Archives