Category Archives: parenting

November 2, 2016 · 4:20 PM

My Daughter Doesn’t Dress For You

Halloween 2016

My daughter is eight at the time of this writing. Her wardrobe, besides being fabulous, can best be described as eclectic. It’s a dress one day, followed by running shorts and a tank top the next, followed by an ever changing mix of leggings and long tops, and swishy shorts and boots, and skirts with knee-high socks, and other various combinations that I haven’t even imagined until I’ve seen her put them together. Last week she wore one of her dad’s t-shirts as a big boxy dress, and believe you me, she rocked it.

One thing she does not do is dress for me. Or for her father. Or for her peers. Or for boys. She dresses for herself, in whatever way makes her feel comfortable and confident and best able to take on the world as her own wonderfully weird and perfectly imperfect self. My wish for her is that that always continues, whether she’s eight or twenty eight.

To insist otherwise is to give in to rape culture, and to an increasingly misogynistic society that tells us that 1) girls are nothing more than sexual objects, and 2) boys are nothing more than walking penises, slaves to their animalistic urges. It is always amazes me each time that I again realize how equally disparaging this view is to both genders. Can we give ourselves a little more credit?

Women are more than the clothes they wear.

Men are more than hormonally-driven hunters, always on the lookout for the next thing they might want to have sex with.

Which is why articles like this one, by Shelly Wildman, are so concerning. Titled How Your Daughter Dresses Matters, she explains why as parents we need to be vigilant in ensuring that our daughters are dressed modestly (which sounds pretty difficult, since she estimates that 80% of what we see in stores is inappropriate.)

From the article, in response to a WSJ online article with a quote that said, “We wouldn’t dream of dropping our daughters off at college and saying: ‘Study hard and floss every night, honey—and for heaven’s sake, get laid!’ But that’s essentially what we’re saying by allowing them to dress the way they do while they’re still living under our own roofs.”:

Think about that. If, as mothers (or fathers!), we’re encouraging our daughters to dress inappropriately, that’s basically what we’re saying. At the very least we’re saying, “Here’s my daughter. She’s on display. Take a good, long, hard look at her.”

And a few lines later, in describing what the author says to the junior high girls she works with:

Dressing a certain way attracts a certain kind of guy. I doubt very seriously that the kind of guy you want to attract is the kind of guy you’re dressing for when you dress like that. Besides, you are above that. You are better than that. You deserve better than that. So dress for the guy you deserve.

Oof.

First of all, thinking of your daughter in terms of her hypothetical sex life is gross and inappropriate, to say the least. I don’t care what she’s wearing or not wearing. Second, if a parent is equating a specifically dressed daughter with an object on display… the problem lies within the parent. This is going to sound harsh, but that excerpt literally filled me with revulsion.

Our children are not our possessions to display, nor are they puppets with which to act out our own ideals about what is and is not “appropriate” when it comes to attire. They’re humans.

As for the “encouraging our daughters to dress inappropriately”, there is a very big difference between respecting autonomy and encouraging inappropriateness. And who decides what’s “inappropriate” anyway? You? Me? The church elders? “Appropriate” attire is completely subjective, and it’s both unrealistic and arrogant to think that we can define it for someone else. I would never encourage my daughter to dress in a way that feels inappropriate to her, or uncomfortable to her, or inauthentic to her.

What I will encourage? Self-respect. Self-love. Self-confidence. An intrinsic need to think, and act, and dress out of a deep respect for herself... not for me, not for you, and certainly not – as the second quote advises – to land the man of her dreams. Sorry (#notsorry) current eight year old boys who might one day want to date my daughter: She’s not going to dress for you.

She’s going to dress for herself.

And I can’t speak for the rest of the moms or daughters out there, but if my daughter does in fact choose to be in a relationship with a man: The man she deserves is one who doesn’t give a single wit about the clothes she’s wearing, and instead sees the person underneath.

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Filed under hot topics, mindful parenting, parenting, rant

August 18, 2016 · 11:46 AM

Teens, Privacy, And Why The Only Text Messages I Read Are My Own

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I’m a pretty private person. Maybe that sounds weird coming from someone who has shared many intimate details about her life over the past several years, but I am. Not just when it comes to my personal relationships (though certainly, I’m private about those too) but also regarding some of the things I have on my laptop, and in my phone, and in my desk. And it’s not that I’m hiding anything or ashamed of anything, or feel I’m doing anything “bad”. It’s just that some things are… well, private. I keep journals, I’m constantly writing little notes and reminders to myself, I often write emails and potential blog posts that don’t ever make it out for public consumption. Over the past three months, I’ve also been keeping a notebook for therapy. I’ll carry it back and forth every week and jot down notes of things I want to remember, homework he’s given me, issues that come up for me during the week, and things I want to talk about next time. Sometimes it’s in my purse or in the car, but most often it’s sitting right out on my desk, so it’s easily accessible throughout the week. As personal as it is, I never worry that anyone’s going to open it. Why? Because we all respect each other’s privacy. On those rare occasions that Mike needs something out of my purse, or from my desk, or to access something in my email, he’ll ask. I trust and expect and appreciate that within the four walls of my own home, I have a modicum of privacy.

Why wouldn’t I give my teens the same consideration? (I’ll get back to that later).

I remember being a teenager. Quite well in fact. It’s been 26 years since I was 16, but for as fresh as the memories are, it may as well have been two. It was fun and exciting. Difficult and hurtful. Confusing and overwhelming. I remember feeling like life was an emergency… like it was all just SO MUCH. Such blindingly beautiful high highs, and such agonizingly painful low lows (In hindsight, I don’t know how much of that was normal teenage angst, and how much was the fact that I had an untreated mental illness. But I digress.)

I don’t agree with all the decisions my parents made when it came to raising me – not because they weren’t good parents, but just because evaluating and re-evaluating and learning ways to improve on what was done before us is what evolved humans do. But one area where I feel they absolutely got it right was how they parented me as a teen. They gave me space. They respected my privacy. They respected my friendships. They allowed me the room to have my own relationships, and my own conversations, and my own whispered late-night phone calls. They trusted that they’d raised me with a good head on my shoulders. They gave me the freedom I needed to learn what it meant to be independent, to make my own decisions, and yes, to make mistakes and ultimately grow from them. They did all of that while still letting me know that they were there for me, that they loved me, and that when I had a problem… they’d have my back.

Now that I think about it, that’s the way most of my friends were raised as well. And I can’t but wonder: When did we stop trusting our teens?

I see article after article warning parents to keep stricter tabs. Know all their social media passwords (if you even let them have social media), read through their texts, monitor their photos. In short: Don’t let them have a private life at all.

And I get it (kind of.) We all want to keep our kids – of all ages – safe. We want them to be happy and healthy. We want them to make good decisions. But did you ever stop to think about the fact that in order to learn to make good decisions, they at some point have to be given the trust and the freedom to actually practice making those decisions in the first place? Monitoring their every move actually robs them of the chance to grow, to mature, and to make healthy decisions in the absence of someone looking over their shoulder.

But it’s more than that.

Teens are human beings who are deserving of their own space, their own privacy, and their own right to have personal conversations and exchanges with their friends. Full stop. And when it comes to things like reading their text messages, you’re not just inserting yourself into your OWN teen’s private life, but into the private lives of their friends as well. Even if you fully believe it’s your right as your teen’s parent (something I strongly disagree with, to be clear), is it right to read the private words of someone else’s teen? Words that he or she believed would be for one person, and one person only? Where does it stop?

Right before I started writing this post, I went for a run with my 12 year old. As we were cooling down, we talked about the pros and cons of the different ways of keeping in touch online. (He’s a Skype fan, and I pretty much avoid it at all costs) He told me about some new games he’s been playing, and which friends he’s been chatting with. I told him about what I was about to go home and write about, and he was initially aghast at the idea of parents reading their kids’ private things. He thought about it for a few seconds, and eventually asked me why anyone would do that. I answered that they just want to keep their kids safe. As usual, he responded more succinctly and with much fewer words than I could ever muster: “Or they could just raise them right so that they know how to keep themselves safe.” Indeed.

You know what else helps keep your teens safe? An open line of communication with their parents, one that’s born of trust, mutual respect, and genuine relationship. Breaching that trust and snooping through private correspondence is pretty antithetical towards that end.

And listen, I know people are going to disagree. That’s okay. But for me and my teens: I’m going to keep talking to them. Keep being involved. Keep listening. Keep being a safe sounding board. Keep loving them unconditionally. But ultimately giving them the trust and the space and the freedom to have their own private lives; lives I’ll occasionally be invited to visit, but that will otherwise grow and flourish and exist without me.

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Filed under parenting, teens

July 6, 2016 · 9:02 AM

Raising My Orchid Child

Today’s post is a guest post from someone who could relate to my recent stories about my own mental health issues (and the decision to use medication as part of my treatment). I thought it segued nicely from my most recent post about my complicated relationship with natural health. I think a lot of parents out there will be able to see themselves/their child in this story.

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Here I am, where I never thought I would be. I have a child who is not receptive to my magical way with children. This was one of the hardest things I have ever had to deal with as an adult. This child is not just some child off the street who didn’t connect with me, as a teacher or mentor, whose family decided I wasn’t a good fit for them. This is a child born of my womb. He is beautiful. He is creative. He steals the hearts of anyone who gets to know him. But he was not connecting. There was no amount of cuddles and love that happened between us that helped change him into a well-mannered, calm, sociable child. He was not receptive to my parenting.

Before you start telling yourself , “She is obviously a self-centered, egocentric know it all”, I need you to understand that I love to be challenged and questioned. I am always looking to be better. I altered my parenting as much as I possibly could, but no amount of parenting was going to take the Sensory Processing Disorder out of my child. I tried love. I tried diet change. I tried firm (read gentle, but firm) discipline. I tried therapy. I even attempted school. I tried isolation (for his and his friends’ safety). I tried simplification of everything from his schedule to his lifestyle. Minimalism is a way of life for us. I was willing to try anything a pro thought would help. There was just NO WAY I was going to medicate him for anxiety.

The fact is, Sensory Processing Disorder is not something that has a quick fix. It is not something we can change about a child. Imagine walking into a room and feeling every ounce of energy in the room; all the sadness, excitement, anger. You name it, you feel it. Imagine there are 10 people in the room and half of them you do not know, but you feel their energy. You feel it fully, as if it were your own. Imagine seeing every color in the room. The slight hue of blue that is different on one wall than another and the orange that makes a friend’s red hat slightly brighter than his friend’s red hat. You hear every thought, as if they are sounds coming from the company’s mouth. Imagine trying to organize those thoughts and do so before you forget what you wanted to say.

How do you feel? Are you feeling anxious? Not sure what to do? Imagine that the adults in your life don’t understand this about you. Oh, your mom does. Your dad does. Imagine feeling so much love for them, but hearing them have to explain you to other people. Imagine feeling their anxiety about how people will take you. Imagine hearing a grandparent who barely knows you tell your mother that she had better get control of you before you run the house. Imagine being asked why you cry so easily. Imagine a child of the same age hitting you as a game or teasing you for fun and the adults doing nothing. Imagine that everything you know in your heart is wrong or sad or unhealthy is ignored by the masses.

How would you feel?

I am guessing you would feel anxious. Well, you know what? I can protect him from all of these things. I can keep him safe and only with people who understand him and offer him grace and see his beauty. I will keep him near people who see that he can take 3 combined Thomas the train puzzles with slightly different hues of blue in the sky and put them together faster than I could put one together, by seeing the difference in the back ground. I can manage his people to be only those who offer him calm. Guess who that would eliminate from our life though? Probably you. You might not realize that you make him anxious, but just wearing the wrong pair of shoes can make his senses go haywire. Bringing his favorite snack can make his senses explode.

So, you know what? I am going to ask you NOT to give an opinion on my parenting around him. I am going to ask you not to offer an opinion about him. I’m going to ask you to not bring his favorite snack. All you will do is build his anxiety. All you will do will make him feel those huge emotions even bigger than he normally does. You know what happens then? He does what we call cycling. He tolerates nothing. His senses go haywire and he becomes someone watching his body from the outside. After his body takes on a mind of its own, he feels anxious about his actions and he goes more haywire. He becomes completely out of control and he HATES it. The more out of control he becomes the more anxious he becomes. It is a spiral. It comes on quickly and no one can stop it. Trust me: I. Have. Tried. He. Has. Tried.

So, let me go back. I can eliminate all people and activities and things that make him anxious. I can. It is what I have done in the past. I can eliminate his life of anything but where this Orchid child is protected and safe from people who can not offer him grace. It is so tempting to go for the long haul and protect him and guide him and hope that once he is an adult, he will be able to filter the information flooding his brain. Or, I can help him now. I can help him learn a new norm. I can let the doctors medicate him. I can let him live in society and still feel his emotions and never punish him for them; because that is the stupidest thing I have EVER heard. Whether you believe in punishment or not, punishments are NEVER for emotions. Punishing a child for feeling is asinine. That is all I have to say about it. I will not punish my child for feeling beautiful, healthy emotions; but if I can help him feel safe NOW and feel those emotions a little less NOW… if I can turn down the volume just a hair; why wouldn’t I? And, you know what? It took me three years to accept it, but my child is happy and in control of his feelings. I have medicated him and I am proud of myself for coming to this decision. I am proud of myself for taking this long and trying anything and everything to help him. I am proud of myself for saying “my child needs help that I can’t give him”. I am proud of myself for parenting my Orchid child the way he needs to be parented. I am proud of myself for knowing that my child is more than his SPD and his anxiety.

It turns out that my child has heard everything we have been teaching him. He heard it. He felt it. He saw it. Now, he can express it. It won’t be linear. It won’t be consistent and it won’t be forever. We will still need to make and cancel plans at the spur of the moment. I know that probably bothers you. But guess what? Now, he enjoys jokes, family barbecues, athletics, friends coming over and, selfishly; me…

and maybe even you.

~ Anonymous

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June 21, 2016 · 7:00 AM

Humiliation Isn’t Funny

pexels-photo

My husband and I have had sort of a tricky year.

I remember after one particularly heated argument, I put on my shoes and left the house. I just went for a long walk to clear my head, and when I returned we’d both cooled down and were ready to apologize and put it behind us. But wouldn’t it have been funny if I’d packed a whole suitcase, told him I was leaving him, and stayed at a hotel for a week to teach him a lesson?

Or if I showed up at his office in the middle of the workday, for no other purpose than to humiliate him and air our dirty laundry in front of all his coworkers?

Or kicked him out of the car and made him walk home when I didn’t like his tone?

Or spent hours – or days – purposely ignoring him, not speaking to him, and acting as if he didn’t exist until he apologized?

Or made him stand on a street corner, holding up a sign detailing everything he’d done wrong, while wearing something ridiculous of course? Hundreds of people would pass him. They’d laugh, and point. Funny, right?

Or changed the password on his computer, and wouldn’t give it to him until a certain number of days had passed, as penance?

Or put his car up for sale on Craigslist, along with a long and rambling and embarrassing description… not of the car (that would defeat the whole purpose) but of my husband, and how he’d misbehaved, and why I had to sell his beloved car, and what a great lesson it would be, and hahahahaha what a freaking hoot I thought I was.

Or took away all his clothes, and tools, and personal items, and made him earn them back one by one?

The best part would be how humiliated he would feel, how embarrassed, how ashamed. He would eventually beg me to stop punishing him. He might even cry!

Hysterical.

Seriously, comedy GOLD, right there.

I guess I’m not that funny though, because I’ve never done any of the above to my husband. And even though it’s not what’s popular, it’s not what sells, and it’s not what gets likes and shares and accolades on social media…. I’ve never done any of the above to my children either.

And I know, I know, I’m in the minority on this, a fact I’m reminded of daily. Lest I forget, tonight I was faced with a Facebook post by a popular blogger that has been shared over 32,000 times, received over 67,000 likes, and – at the time of this writing – had almost 8,000 comments. Comments filled with story after story similar to what I wrote above, of parents purposely punishing, humiliating, embarrassing (and I’ll just say it: in some instances, abusing) their kids. The content wasn’t actually even the most disturbing part though. The disturbing part was the absolute GLEE that everyone took in the conversation. They were absolutely reveling in it. If we’re to believe this thread, making your kids feel badly about themselves is REALLY REALLY FUNNY.

The last time I wrote about a similar topic, I received some confused replies from people who just didn’t understand where I saw people celebrating cruelty to children. Facebook is where. Twitter is where. Church is where. School is where. SOCIETY is where. It is all around us. It’s cool to mistreat our children.

I don’t understand why everyone not only thinks this is okay, but thinks it is something to be celebrated.

And I’m an honest person… I’ll be the first to admit that I’m certainly not a perfect parent any more than I am a perfect wife.

I just have this crazy notion that we should be sort of… I don’t know… nice to the people we love. Sometimes I miss the mark and I have to apologize (that whole being human thing trips me up sometimes), but the overall general goal is kindness. And I get it, kindness isn’t sexy. It’s not funny. It’s not the kind of thing that garners billions of likes on a single Facebook post. But seriously, if we don’t have kindness, what do we have?

I’ll tell you what we have: We have 8,000 people congratulating each other for purposely tormenting their kids.

Being a parent is hard sometimes. Keeping our cool is hard sometimes. Dealing with stressful or disappointing or frustrating situations is hard sometimes. But you know what’s even harder? Dealing with difficult situations when you’re still a child. When you’re still learning about yourself. When you’re still learning how the world works. When you’re still maturing. When you’re still growing. Our kids need our help and our guidance and our compassion, not our scorn. They need us to reach out our hands for assistance and reassurance, not for punishment.

And if we want our children to grow up to be adults who live passionately and love freely and trust deeply, we first have to show them that they can trust us, as their parents. Punishing them and delighting in their humiliation isn’t really the best way to do that. A little bit of grace goes a really long way.

I hear people lamenting this generation and its “coddled” children. They worry about kids being spoiled, and entitled, and selfish. But I’m worried about something else entirely. I’m worried about the vast number of people who think it’s not only okay, but preferable to treat your children like second-class citizens, to parent through fear and intimidation, to use humiliation and shame as “teaching” tools.

I worry because these kids are going to grow up and become adults who think that it’s normal. Adults who believe that children should not have the same basic human rights as all our other loved ones. Adults who think that children don’t deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. Adults who perpetuate the same negative and damaging cycle on their own children, and on the next generation.

This is what is being passed down. This is what we need to be concerned about. And until or unless enough people stand up and make another choice, the cycle is never going to stop.

God help us all.

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Filed under parenting, Uncategorized

June 17, 2016 · 10:38 AM

I Could Have Been The Disney Mom

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I could have been the Disney mom.

My now 19 year old almost drowned once. I almost watched it happen. We were at a friend’s party at a lake, and I was there with him and his little brother, who was tiny at the time, and spent most of the party asleep in the baby carrier on my chest. Spencer must have been about five, and wasn’t yet a strong swimmer. But the water was shallow (wading-level) for a long distance, and he was happily running around and playing with his friends while I watched with the other moms from the shore, dipping our flip-flopped toes into the cool water. It was happy, and it was carefree… and then it wasn’t. And the worst part of the day, and the memory, is that I wasn’t even the one who saw it happen. I’d been watching him! The whole time! But I, his mother, did not see it happen. He’d had some sort of toy in his hand, and he dropped it in the water. When he bent down into the water to pick it up, he’d either swallowed some water, or got disoriented and lost his footing (he was still in water that was not anywhere close to over his head, but he didn’t realize he could stand up) When another mom questioned what was going on, I looked more closely and saw him floating, his head under water. I ran out through the water, clothes and baby and all, and pulled him up out of the water. His eyes were wide and terrified, but aside from an initial cough of water he was physically fine. He would later tell me that he knew to hold his breath, and that he was just waiting for me to come and rescue him. I will never, for the rest of my life, forget the fear and terror of what could have happened, of how that moment could have gone instead. That one second when I wasn’t looking.

I could have been the mom at the zoo.

My now 15 year old slipped away at a gift shop once. We were there with my sister and my nephew, and we were looking at books and trinkets and insignificant doo-dads, while the kids played at our feet. I picked something up to look at it, and when I put it back down, Paxton was just…. gone. I called his name. I looked down the next aisle, and the next one, as panic started to rise. I saw the front door to the shop (set on a not terribly busy, but not exactly quiet street) left open to take advantage of the beautiful spring breeze, and my heart sunk. I bolted out the door, frantically scanning everything as quickly as my brain would allow. Seeing no sign of him outside, I went back in, where – after what felt like an hour but was in reality about 2 minutes – we found him, happily playing with some trains in the toy section. I will never, for the rest of my life, forget the fear and terror of what could have happened, of how that moment could have gone instead. That one second when I wasn’t looking.

I could even have been one of those parents whose routine was thrown off, and who horrifically and tragically forgot that their child was in the car.

You know the ones. The ones who, whenever it’s talked about in the media, or on Facebook, or anywhere, are met with the people with the pitchforks; the ones who are screaming, “YOU DON’T DESERVE TO BE A PARENT!!!”

I was teaching yoga at the time; Private classes at a student’s house. It was a fun class, with about 5 to 10 people every week, and I always looked forward to it. My daughter, who was probably around four at the time, was having trouble separating with me one night, so I decided to bring her along. I knew that the host would not mind, and that she would have fun with her own daughter. It was 8:00 at night, so not exactly early, and Tegan (who’d been chatting my ear off for the first several minutes of the ride) went to sleep in her car seat and fell silent. I turned on some music, started running through my class in my mind, and drove the rest of the way lost inside my own head. When I got there, I started unloading all my stuff from the car… my extra mats, my water bottle, my bluetooth speaker, my essential oils. It was hot out – in Phoenix during the summer it’s still often 95 at 8:00 at night – and it was more arduous work than usual. It wasn’t until I reached to get something in the back seat and I saw that face. That angelic, sleeping face, and the mop of wild curls that framed it. I’d completely forgotten that she was in the car with me. And it wasn’t because I was a horrible parent, and it wasn’t because I didn’t deserve to be a mother…. it was because I’m a HUMAN who’d never taken her child to yoga before, and had gone into autopilot in the silence of the car. I will never, for the rest of my life, forget the fear and terror of what could have happened, of how that moment could have gone instead. That one second when I wasn’t thinking.

You know the only difference between the rest of those parents and me? The only one? They experienced tragedy, and I – for whatever reason – was spared.

We’ve all had those moments when we’ve looked away.

We’ve all had those moments, even when we did not look away!, when something unexpected or tragic or scary befell us or our kids in some way.

No one expects that an alligator is going to snatch away their baby on a family vacation.

No one expects that their toddler is going to climb into a gorilla’s cage.

And if you’re telling yourself, “Well it wouldn’t happen to me,” you’re being blinded by your own fear of the unthinkable. The unimaginable horror that yes, it could happen to you. It could happen to any of us. No one is immune. And the more we protest, and the more we point fingers, and the more we lay blame, the less energy we’re able to put where it really belongs: on support, on kindness, on compassion. On overwhelming love for these parents who’ve endured these unspeakable tragedies; tragedies that could have happened to any one of us.

So much love and sympathy to the parents who so horrifically lost their little boy this week.

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Filed under hot topics, parenting, Uncategorized

June 12, 2016 · 4:51 PM

The Senseless Tragedy In Orlando: Our Role As Parents

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Early this morning, a man named Omar Mateen, 29, entered Pulse, a gay nightclub in Orlando, and started shooting. He ultimately murdered 50 people and wounded at least 50 more, in what was the deadliest mass shooting in the United States, and the worst terror attack on American soil since 9/11.

I, like the rest of my fellow Americans, am horrified and heartbroken at this devastating loss. I am sending love to the victims, their families, and all their loved ones, as well as to all the people who experienced the terror of the attack first-hand, and those who now live in even more fear (people who live in far more fear than anyone should ever have to live in to begin with.)

It is senseless and devastating and scary, and it is a time to mourn. It is NOT a time to add to the culture of violence by perpetuating more hate. I’ve already seen it, spreading through Facebook like a cancer. Hate towards religions. Hate towards certain political leanings. Hate towards people who disagree with our policies… policies about guns, and immigrants, and things that have nothing to do with the fact that one person chose to do a horrible, horrible thing for horrible, horrible reasons. So much hate, and at time when love and kindness and compassion are more important than they’ve ever been.

I think about it as a parent, about the helpless feeling of living in a world that’s gone sort of mad. And I don’t know what the answer is. I don’t. What I do know is that if change is ever going to happen, it needs to start with us. It needs to start in our own homes.

We need to show our kids what love and inclusion and tolerance actually look like.

We need to teach our kids to stand up to hatred and bigotry.

We need to explain to our kids the damage that phrases like, “Love the sinner, hate the sin”, and “I disagree with the ‘lifestyle’ but…” really do to this already maligned segment of society.

We need to teach our kids about respect. Respect for self, respect for people around them, respect for personal choices… even choices that may seem strange or weird or different.

We need to talk openly with our kids about differences in gender, in gender identity, in sexual orientation, in sexual expression… even if it makes us uncomfortable.

We need to talk to our kids about appropriate and inappropriate terms, respecting individuals’ chosen terminology, and making a conscious effort to honor preferred pronouns.

We need to teach our children to love deeply, love without conditions, and love without agenda.

We need to teach our children that redirected hatred is still hatred, and that hatred is never the answer.

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Sending so much love to all the victims, and to everyone affected by the tragedy in Orlando.

If you would like to donate money to help the victims and families of this shooting, you can contribute financially on their GoFundMe page here.

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May 23, 2016 · 8:38 AM

My Summer To Do List For My Kids (And Myself)

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There’s 104 days of summer vacation
And school comes along just to end it
So the annual problem for our generation
Is finding a good way to spend it ~ Phineas and Ferb theme song

Ah, summer.

When you unschool, or even homeschool, summer means a slightly different thing than it does when your kids go to school. If you’ve done it right, summer break doesn’t really a mean a “break”, because there’s nothing to take a break from. And when you live in Phoenix, summer means a slightly different thing than it does in other places as well. When everyone else is gearing up for lots of outdoor activities, we’re making plans that involve A/C… unless said outdoor activities include being covered in water of some sort.

Still, there’s something romantic and lovely about the idea of the lazy, hazy, carefree days of summer. A time to be free, a time to play, a time to practice feeling good in your own skin.

For a lot of parents, there seems to be a temptation to see summer as a time to micromanage. A time to prize structure over spontaneity; control over freedom. There’s a post that seems to go around Facebook every year as summer approaches that highlights this fact, encouraging parents to print out cute little checklists to keep their kids on task all summer long. There are many variations, but the general gist is usually something like this:

NO ELECTRONICS UNTIL YOU:

Brush your teeth, get dressed, and clean your room

Read for 30 minutes

Play outside for 30 minutes

Draw, build, craft for 30 minutes

Practice your karate/musical instrument/dance steps for 30 minutes

Finish your chores

Help your mother with her chores

etc

Obligatory disclaimer: I have seen things like this posted by a LOT of moms, including several whom I really like and respect. What follows is not about any individual people, but about concepts and ideas. Having said that:

Lists like this really, really bother me, for a multitude of reasons. First, I don’t think they accomplish what these well-meaning parents want them to accomplish. They’ve decided that video games/electronics/screen time are a less valuable pursuit than everything else. But by setting it up as a hierarchy in which kids have to perform certain tasks in order to earn it, they’re actually flipping the script and making the electronics MORE valuable, and grossly DE-valuing things like reading, being creative, and playing outside. Those are all fun and wonderful things in their own right, and their system reduces them to nothing more than pesky little chores that they have to check off a list before they get to the real fun. Second, lists like these emphasize compliance over relationship. And sure, they might “work” in the short term. If your child is one who is motivated by electronics, he might very well do whatever it takes to earn them. But what’s the cost? Mom has set herself up as more of a dictator or a boss than a partner, and all those things she wanted her child to do and like? The appreciation she wanted to foster for reading, for playing outside, for building things with their hands? Those things have become nothing more than tasks to endure in order to get to the elusive screentime.

Now I don’t make a summer-time – or any-time – list for my kids, because I don’t like lists (I’m totally lying. I ADORE lists. But my love affair with lists is just that – mine – and not something that I have the right nor the desire to impose on my kids) But if I did make a summer list for my kids, it would be the same as mine, and it would look something like this:

Rest – No, we don’t pay any attention to the school year in our lives, but for some reason the first few months after the new year are always super busy ones in our household. Tegan (age 8 at the time of this writing) just finished a play that’s been in rehearsals since January. Everett (age 12) just had his final football game of the spring season. And the last six weeks or so before the conference – starting around mid-August – are going to be insane with preparations. So I’m all in favor of any and all of my family members using this time to take a much-needed breather. To kick up their feet, to rest in both body and spirit, and to just BE for awhile before the next busy season is upon us.

Do what makes your heart happy – YouTube, Minecraft, video games? Jumping on the trampoline, reading, writing, playing with legos? Visiting with friends? Playing catch in the backyard? Researching, working, resting, figuring things out?….. It’s all there for the taking.

Travel – Our travel plans are different every summer, depending on any number of factors (finances, logistics, husband’s work schedule, etc) but we all love a good travel adventure! This year, Paxton (15) is flying out to Michigan for a month to visit, write with, and practice with his band, The Cringes. A few weeks later, the rest of us are headed that way for a two week road-trip, visiting friends along the way, and ultimately bringing him home with us.

Try new things – I LIVE for trying new things. Mine are usually of the creative sort, but I try not to shy away from learning anything that strikes my fancy. Spencer (19) has been applying for jobs lately, and has recently been talking about learning Spanish. Everett has expressed an interested in trying soccer (I think the only sport he has yet to try). Tegan wants to get back into gymnastics, and try some sort of martial art. Summer is a great time to start thinking about that kind of thing. I mean, why not??

Keep doing “old” things – As wonderful as new things are, there is something to be said for familiarity as well. I hope we keep working on, and playing with, and learning from the things we already know and love.

Step out of your comfort zone – I just realized I’m talking in a little bit of a circle now. “Do something new”. “No, do something comfortable”. “No, do something uncomfortable”. But a life well lived is a mixture of all the above, isn’t it? A few weeks ago, I took a giant step outside my own personal comfort zone (someday I will share a little here on my blog) and it was at once horrifying and difficult and one of the most important things I’ve ever done. I’m a big believer in the fact that if we want to grow, if we want to learn in deep and meaningful ways, if we want to be the best selves we can be…. sooner or later we’re going to have take risks, do the scary thing, and trust in the outcome that we can’t yet see.

Live and love deeply – When you boil it all down, is there anything else more important?

This list is by no means a comprehensive one, but it’s a start. This is the only kind of list I need to get me through this summer. And if my kids’ lists looks totally different than mine? That’s okay too. It’s their list to make.

Will we still do chores around the house? Yup. Will we still pursue our hobbies and/or creative pursuits? Yup. Will we still read books and play outside and build things with our hands? Yup, yup, yup. But because we’re doing those things of our own volition, when it feels right, when it makes sense to US, (rather than just as a means to an end) they will mean something. They will be appreciated on their own merits. They will be something we learn from, rather than something we endure.

Oh, and as for those coveted electronics? We’ll use and enjoy those too…. without jumping through any hoops to get to them.

8 Comments

Filed under gentle parenting, parenting, summer

April 22, 2016 · 2:34 PM

I’m Not The Meanest Mom

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I realized something recently. As adults, we like to hear stories of other adults performing some sort of kindness. We like the feel-good stories of people helping their fellow man, standing up to injustice, or showing love to a total stranger. It restores our faith in humanity. It makes us feel good, and it motivates us to be kinder ourselves. Kinder. Gentler. More compassionate. You know what we don’t see all that often? People sharing about the times they weren’t all that kind, or respectful, or compassionate. And sure, we’re human. We’ve all done it: We have a bad day, and we inadvertently and regrettably take it out on some poor nearby soul. But we don’t rush to share those days, because we recognize – both on an intellectual level and on a heart level – that it’s not exactly something to brag about.

But when it’s a parent being unkind towards a child? We* (as a society) not only tolerate this bad behavior, but we embrace it. We actually cheer it on.

When it comes to kids, we glorify violence. We celebrate cruelty.

So while we seem to have it right when it comes to adult on adult behavior, our collective treatment of our children is abhorrent, and getting more concerning by the day. Baby, we’ve got a long way to go.

I feel like it started with the laptop shooting dad, but it has multiplied at an alarming rate since then. This trend of publicly parenting through bullying, shame, and intimidation is everywhere. I feel like I can’t go a single day anymore without seeing another one. Parenting has become a contest, but a sick one. A contest not to find the sweetest mom, or the most competent mom, but the meanest mom. Everything is backwards. Meanness is exalted, spitefulness is praised. Parents boast about how mean they are to their kids, and instead of gently suggesting alternatives (or possibly better yet, denying them any attention at all), we put them on a pedestal. We feed this very cycle of unkindness. A quick perusal of the comment threads on any one of these public shamings tells us everything we need to know. Hundreds, and yes, thousands of positive comments, singing the praises of meanness, shouting their rallying accolades, and devouring anyone who dare stand up for the children.

How can we do this to these little ones, the most vulnerable members of our society? The people who need the most empathy and the most tender care, are being maligned, minimized and mistreated.

And we’re watching it happen.

I don’t know the answer. I don’t. I know we need to keep talking about it. I know we can’t quietly sit back and accept it.

But it starts at home. It starts with our own kids.

And listen, I’m the first one to admit I’m not a perfect mom. None of us are. I struggle sometimes with patience. I sometimes let sleep deprivation get the better of me and am unnecessarily short with my kids. I have to constantly remind myself to live in the moment. I have to constantly remind myself not to sweat the small stuff.

Yes, I apologize to my children often.

But the big difference between me and the “meanest mom” supporters is that I’m saddened by mean behavior (by or towards anyone), not buoyed by it. So no, I won’t pat you on the back for celebrating meanness. No, I won’t be offering any “Atta girl!”s or “Way to go!”s or “Good job, mom!”s. No, I won’t praise you for being unkind.

And I get it. My opinion is the unpopular one. The cool kids are all worshiping at the alter of childism. Well, I opt out. I don’t want to be a part of your club. I don’t stand in solidarity with anyone who rallies around the idea of mistreating children. I don’t care how loud your voices are. I don’t care how many members you have. I don’t care how good your cookies are.

I Opt Out.

In my life, in my world, I will celebrate kindness. I will cheer for compassion. I will stand up for grace, and forgiveness, and gentle communication.

Children learn from our actions. Throwing away a child’s ice cream (because in his childlike excitement he forgot to say “thank you”) doesn’t teach him to say thank you, it doesn’t teach him what it means to be polite, and it doesn’t teach him gratitude. It teaches him that if someone doesn’t behave in the way we want, that it’s okay to bully them, and that it’s okay to take someone else’s things.

Children learn from our actions. Spanking a child for misbehaving doesn’t teach him right from wrong. It teaches him that “might makes right”, that pain and fear are effective motivators, and that it’s okay to use physical force on someone who’s younger and more vulnerable than you.

Children learn from our actions. Sending a child to time out when he’s having a hard time doesn’t teach him to think about his actions. It teaches him that mom is going to isolate him from her attention, her love, and her touch, at the very moment when he is needing them the most.

Children learn from our actions. Publicly shaming a child a for making a mistake doesn’t teach him not to do it again. It teaches him, again, to use bullying to solve his problems. It teaches him that he can’t trust the one person he should be able to trust the most. It teaches him to feel worthless, and ashamed, and humiliated… making him even MORE likely to repeat the behavior in the future.

Children learn from our actions. Punishing a child (as opposed to kindly communicating, listening, and guiding) does not teach him respect. Or responsibility. Or accountability. It teaches him to be bitter. To be angry. To be spiteful. It teaches him to be extrinsically motivated by the fear of mom’s negative repercussions, rather than intrinsically and positively motivated by his own internal sense of right and wrong.

If you want to raise kids that are polite, respectful, and kind, start by being polite, respectful, and kind to your kids.

It starts with you. It starts with us.

Let’s stop glorifying bullies, and start treating our kids the way we’d like to be treated ourselves.

Kids are people too.

#NotTheMeanestMom

31 Comments

Filed under bullying, gentle discipline, gentle parenting, headlines, mindful parenting, parenting

April 18, 2016 · 11:32 AM

My Dear Daughter, Your Value Doesn’t Change With What You’re Wearing

tegantrampoline

The following was recently passed around Facebook. (Emphasis at the end is my own.) The author is unknown:

A girl bought an iPad, when her father saw it, He asked her “What was the 1st thing you did when you bought it?

“I put an anti-scratch sticker on the screen and bought a cover for the iPad” she replied.

“Did someone force you to do so?” “No” “Don’t you think it’s an insult to the manufacturer?” “No dad! In fact they even recommend using
a cover for the iPad” “Did you cover it because it was cheap & ugly?”

“Actually, I covered it because I didn’t want it to get damage and decrease in value.”
“When you put the cover on, didn’t it reduce the iPad’s beauty?”

“I think it looks better and it is worth it for the protection it gives my iPad.”

The father looked lovingly at his daughter and said, “Yet if I had asked you to cover your body which is much more precious than the iPad, would you have readily agreed???” She was
mute…..

Indecent dressing and exposure of your body reduces your value and respect.

May God guide us all.

My first reaction was one of disgust. As my eyes scanned the comments looking for other people who felt the same way I did, I was just met with “Amen”s and “How true!”s. More disgust. Had we read the same thing? The tome that reduced a girl’s body to a physical object? One that lost its value if it wasn’t clothed in a certain fashion? One that wasn’t worthy of respect if it wasn’t properly covered up? I think the thing that bothered me most of all (“bothered” isn’t even the right word… it creeped me right out) was that the father “looked lovingly at his daughter,” before he gave his edict to cover up, like she’d covered up the iPad. Misogyny and control aren’t love.

Ultimately, reading things like this makes me so overwhelmingly sad. Sad because they illustrate how far we still need to go.

Sad because they remind me of the prevalent thinking of girls being somehow “less than.”

Sad because they only cheer on the patriarchal society that sees to it that the men get to dictate what women should or should not wear… or do… or think.

Sad because it speaks to the larger issue of a world that somehow simultaneously heralds women as nothing more than sex objects, and disparages them for said sexuality at the same time… calling them whores. Or loose. Or easy.

Sad because this is exactly the kind of teaching that leaves girls feeling devalued and worthless, like they don’t deserve love. They’re nothing more than their bodies, right? So if they showed too much skin, or looked too attractive, or God forbid engaged in premarital sexual activity… who would want them? (Many abstinence-only trainings go so far as to compare girls who’ve lost their virginity to used chewing gum.)

Sad because it contributes to a culture of victim blaming that leaves the 1 in 4 women who will experience a sexual assault in their lifetime feeling ashamed, as though it were somehow their fault.

At the time of this writing, my daughter is only eight. But I fear for her future if this is the kind of thing that people aspire to teach their daughters, and pass on to their sons. Is this really the message we want to send to today’s young girls? That they’re nothing more than a body? A body that must be properly covered lest it “lose its value”?

My message for my daughter is very different. At the end of the day – away from the white noise of society, and the church, and advertising, and television, and social media, and politics – this is what I want my daughter to know:

You, my dear daughter, are amazing.

You are strong, and kind, and creative, and intelligent, and funny. You have a big, beautiful, giving heart. You make people laugh. You take care of those around you. I don’t doubt for a second that you can achieve absolutely anything that you put your mind to.

I hope you know how incredible you are. I hope you know how much you have to offer. I hope you know that your value, your worth as a daughter, a sister, a friend, a human soul… it’s infinite. The world is a better place just because you are in it.

At some point in time, society is going to try to reduce you to just your body, but you don’t have to listen! I need you to know that you are so much more than your body. Your body is just a physical place to house your beautiful soul.

I don’t mean to diminish it though, because your body is pretty freaking amazing too! It lets you run, and jump on the trampoline, and pump yourself high on the swings. It lets you swim like a mermaid, and give fierce hugs, and bake cookies with your brother. My hope is that you are kind to your body: That you will treat it well, and feed it good foods, and give it plenty of exercise. Not for me!, and not to reach some aesthetic ideal, and certainly not for society, but for YOU, so you can keep it healthy and strong so you can do all the things you want it to do. I hope you take your body on grand adventures. I hope you build and create things with your hands, I hope you aren’t afraid to get dirty, I hope you use your skills and your time to help others. Maybe one day you’ll climb to the top of a mountain, or ski down one instead. Maybe your body will one day give birth to a baby, or carry you onto a plane to go adopt one.

Yes, your body will take you to amazing places. It is is going to grow, and hurt, and heal, and love, and fight.

One day you’ll feel the thrill of a first romantic kiss, and the physical ache in your heart at a romance gone wrong.

It seems grossly superficial and irrelevant to even think about how you are clothed (really, in the grand scheme of things, what on earth does it matter?) but sooner or later someone’s going to make you think that it’s important, and I want you to know this: I hope you dress in a way that makes you feel beautiful and comfortable and confident. I hope you dress in a way that reflects you. I hope you dress in whatever makes you feel best able to grab life by the horns and leave your own unique, indelible mark. The one that says, “I was here. And I mattered.”

You will change lives just by existing. I know, because you’ve already changed mine, and you’re not even nine years old.

And the thing is, no matter what you’re wearing, no matter how much you weigh, no matter what your hair or your face or your body looks like, you STILL HAVE JUST AS MUCH VALUE.

Because your value? Your worth? That’s inside of you, and no one can take it away.

12 Comments

Filed under acceptance, parenting, perspective, respect, self image, Uncategorized

April 11, 2016 · 10:41 AM

When You Can’t Walk Into Their Room Without Tripping

Photo Credit: Matt Gromes

The newest parenting-related picture to go viral on Facebook is a photo of a huge stack of filled trash bags. Mom captioned the photo with the explanation that her teenage daughter wouldn’t clean her room, so the mom bagged everything up, and was making her daughter pay her $25 a bag to get her stuff back. It was hard to tell just how many bags there were, as they were all stacked on top of each other, but there were clearly enough for the daughter to owe her mother at least a few hundred dollars.

As is usually the case, the comments were overwhelmingly positive, and the mother was almost universally praised. I’m always kind of amazed at the feedback on these things. I’d like to think – really, I need to think – that there are people out there who don’t feel right about it, but who just don’t know what else they would do in that situation. Or maybe there are people who want to offer some alternatives, but they are shamed into silence by the “Stop being so judgmental!!” crowd. (By the way, when you publicly boast online about how proud you of are how you’re punishing your children, you are explicitly inviting feedback. It’s the way the internet works)

Dialogue is a useful thing. Lots of parents can relate to the struggle of kids and messes, but not every parent chooses punishment and/or shame as a parenting tactic. There are alternatives to navigating even the messiest of messy rooms, that do not involve bagging up all their stuff and throwing or giving it away, or making them earn it back.

As with everything else, it all begins with relationship:

1. Recognize that everyone is different. Personality and individual constitution play a big role here. Some people are naturally very tidy. Some make a mess everywhere they go. I am very much the latter. And while I’ve come to appreciate how much better I operate in a clean, uncluttered environment, it is something that I have to continually work on. I am 42 years old, and I still have to make a conscious effort to keep things picked up. Harping on me or shaming me would not only not encourage me, but would also make me angry, and even less likely to put forth the effort. Kids are no different! If you make them feel badly about themselves, they’ll live up to the negative. Instead, help and encourage them, and see what a difference it makes, both in their behavior and in your own peace with the situation. Accept them the way they are, and resist the urge to compare and pit one against the other. Comments like, “Why can’t you be more like Henry?” are hurtful, and leave scars that last well beyond childhood.

2. Adjust your expectations. I am not a big fan of the phrase, “Pick your battles,” but bedroom cleanliness is one area where it may apply. It’s okay – and yes, even a positive thing! – for them to have the freedom to keep their own personal space the way they like it. Some things shouldn’t be negotiable, for good reason (for example: leaving food or trash laying around can attract bugs; too much clutter on the floor can become a safety hazard) But there is a whole range of happy compromise in between hospital corners and things-are-growing-faster-than-bacteria-in-a-petri-dish. Adjusting your own expectations and working with your child, rather than against him, go a long way towards both keeping the peace in the home and your relationship intact.

3. Model taking care of your own things. I have found, again and again, that when I’m in a good routine myself, the kids tend to magically follow suit. Show them what it looks like to take pride in your home. Pick up after yourself. Put things away after you use them. Don’t grumble about housework. Treat it as an act of service for yourself, and for your family. Your kids learn far more from watching you than they do from any speeches you may give them about cleanliness.

4. Ask them to pick up before things get out of control. I think we have a tendency … (and when I say “we”, I mean “I”) … I think we have a tendency to let things fester and not say anything about them while they build. Then, we inevitably get resentful, the situation gets blown out of proportion, and we finally burst. We finally say something, or ask for help, and we’re not very nice about it. It is a whole lot easier – and more peaceful for all involved – to say, “Can you please pick up these legos on the floor so I can tuck you in without hurting my feet?” than it is to deal with the fallout of a room that’s reached a level of “We need to rent a dumpster and fill 87 trash bags if we want to see the floor again.” Getting into good habits, working together, and talking to your kids instead of barking orders helps the entire household run more smoothly and peacefully. Plus, it is far less work to deal with little messes as they happen than it is to deal with giant messes that have been accumulating over time.

5. When it does get bad, ask if you can help. So, you’re thinking, “Picking up before things get out of control sounds nice in theory, but that ship has already sailed.” I so get it. Speaking as both a mom and as a person who has a natural tendency to let messes take over: I think that when it gets to that point, it isn’t so much that your kids don’t want to pick up as it is that they are overwhelmed at the enormity of the project and don’t even know where to start. The struggle is real! Ask if you can help. Break it up into smaller jobs and tackle it together. Do whatever works well to get the job done. Make it a game, set timers, play some music. If they don’t mind you touching their things (some of my kids would rather do it themselves, some welcome the assistance), you can even surprise them by doing it for them. It’s a huge gift to give them, and my daughter in particular is always so thankful. Then, once you’ve gotten it under control again, re-visit #4. Repeat as necessary.

6. Help/encourage them to periodically cull through their belongings. The less “stuff” you have, the easier it is to keep it organized. Every so often (ideally a couple of times a year, or at least before big gift-giving occasions like Christmas) help them go through their things to see if there’s anything they don’t want anymore that they can then sell, donate, or give away. Personality plays a large role here too. Some kids have no problem giving up toys that they don’t play with anymore, even if they just got it a year ago. Others really like to hang on. Respect where they’re at, and work with them on solutions. Help them find new homes for the things they don’t want, and help them organize and store the things that are staying.

___________________________________________________

It is a frustrating feeling indeed when messes get out of control. But giving into that frustration and unloading it via yelling, punishing, or shaming your kids doesn’t help anyone… not you, and certainly not your child. Instead, take a deep breath, – or 10 or 100 – take the emotion out of it, and work together on solutions. You’re not going to change your child (and really, would you want to??!!), but you can help him with strategies he can use, both now and in the future.

And as for you as the parent? Remind yourself as often as necessary that kids are all different, and that that’s okay. Tell yourself that you’ll respect your kids where they’re at. Work with your kids on keeping their rooms tidy, but recognize that the space is ultimately theirs, and that that’s okay too. Decide what is non-negotiable and let go of the rest.

And if all else fails, just shut the door.

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8 Comments

Filed under gentle discipline, gentle parenting, housekeeping, parenting

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