Category Archives: parenting

February 28, 2015 · 8:53 AM

Dear Parents: Don’t Be Assholes

Last night, before I went to bed, I read another article about the latest parent to publicly shame their child as so-called discipline. Because the parent’s humiliating and degrading behavior was not enough on its own, photographic evidence of said “discipline” was then splashed about on social media as though it was entertainment. Thousands of other wounded parents banded together to clap their collective hands. “Bravo! Way to stand up and be a parent!!”

Different parents, different places…. but it’s the same story every time. The first parent does something really cruel and hurtful to their child, they share it for the world to see, and people laud them as parent of the year. The first parent then feels vindicated in his or her behavior, and scores of people feel proudly right in their wrongness.

You guys, I am so very tired of this.

And I learned after the 5th or 6th time that it happened, that I can’t open up a dialogue about it either. Doing so inevitably leads to my getting chastised for judging, and – ironically – my getting shamed for shaming the parent for shaming the child. And I’m so very tired of that too.

Because it’s not about shaming a parent. It’s not about one specific parent at all. It’s about having the conversation, the important conversation, that starts with:

Hey. Do the right thing. BE NICE TO YOUR KIDS.

And yes, I understand that we need to have compassion for these parents as well. As someone always reminds me, “Hurt people hurt others.” Absolutely. These parents’ friends and loved ones need to be reaching out to them, and they need to be helping them with tools and alternatives. They need support. Perhaps they need therapy.

But the thing is, someone also needs to be a voice for the children, who society just won’t give a voice of their own. And if I have to choose between standing up for the children and possibly stepping on a few toes, or staying silent to spare feelings…. I’m going to choose the children. Every time.

There’s a time for niceties. There’s a time for soft words and understanding and back-patting.

There’s also a time for honesty.

There’s a time to tell people to grow up, to get real, to deal with their own issues, and stop freaking taking them out on their kid.

We’re all coming into this parenting gig with baggage. God knows I’ve got my own issues to deal with. We’ve all been hurt. We’re all wounded. But the days are ticking and our kids are growing up no matter how we treat them. We’re never going to get back this time in their lives. There is no time for tip-toeing. Kids should not have to pay the price for our refusal or inability to deal with our own crap and move on from our own old wounds.

We have to do right by our kids. Period. Full stop.

A friend of mine has adopted the wonderfully succinct parenting motto of “Don’t be an asshole.” I can’t help but think if more people informed their parenting with that philosophy in mind that the world would be a softer, kinder, gentler place. Don’t be an asshole to your kids.

Don’t like the word choice? Call it something else. Call it the Golden Rule. Call it doing unto others the way you’d have them do unto you. Call it treating your kids the way you’d like to be treated. Call it whatever you want, but do it.

Yes, deal with your own issues. Yes, give grace to yourself. Yes, offer yourself forgiveness for past mistakes. Yes, reach out to others who can support you and help you in your efforts to do better. But be nice to your kids. For all the flowery advice and philosophical waxing and wordy prose can be boiled down to that one simple phrase. That’s where it starts. That’s the first step to more connected, more compassionate parenting.

No more excuses, no more bullshit. Just a decision. Right now, today:

Be nice to your kids.

14 Comments

Filed under parenting, rant

February 17, 2015 · 10:20 AM

Q & A – My Child Calls Me Mean

Photo credit: Mindaugas Danys

Chelsea asks:

How can I move past my children calling me, “mean”? I’ve stopped yelling, and I’m working to be a more gentle parent. But my four year old gets very aggressive when he’s excited or disappointed or angry, and he lashes out at me.

First, awesome job on quitting the yelling! It takes work to break old, ingrained habits, especially when they’ve become the default response in stressful/frustrating situations, so moving beyond that is a big hurdle in and of itself.

Your son’s lashing out could very well be a subconscious reaction to your new style of parenting, especially if these changes are recent (Ie: Mom’s not yelling anymore. This is new. Will THIS make her yell? What if I say THAT?) He could be adjusting to the new normal, testing out the safe boundaries, and assuring himself that yes, you’re still going to be calm and patient even when he’s not being calm and patient back. As time passes, he will become more confident in your relationship, and more comfortable with the fact that he doesn’t need to resort to lashing out in order to be heard.

-OR-

It could simply be due to personality, and/or a normal developmental stage. Even the most mild-mannered of my children went through a stage at around 3 or 4 years where they were more angry, argumentative, and prone to things like eye-rolling and disapproval with me in general. That age is a huge age for asserting independence and autonomy, and for figuring out who they are both within the family, and separate from Mom and Dad. They’re not babies anymore, but they’re not yet big kids either. One minute they want to be cuddled and rocked to sleep, and the next they want to run across the street with the “big kids.” Their feelings are big, and often confusing or scary, and they need a safe place to let them out. It’s hard to be a kid sometimes.

So how do you handle it, in either case?

In short: Patience, understanding, and consistency.

Even though it may feel personal, it’s not. It’s not about you at all (unless you really are being mean :)). It’s about your child and his big feelings. What he needs when he lashes out at you is to feel safe and heard. When he yells at you or calls you mean, first take a breath (or a few) so that you can answer calmly. Sometimes when the moment is especially heated, I’ll deliberately lower my voice to just above a whisper. It ensures that I’m not yelling, and it helps both my child and myself calm down, as well as work to start diffusing the overall situation.

Some people will tell you to ignore it when your child says something negative/unkind to you, but I’m not a fan of ignoring children…. especially during a moment when what they’re needing is connection! It’s also not particularly helpful in terms of learning about resolving conflicts, standing up for themselves, or working through issues in their relationships. I think that your children need to know that you’re “all in”, even when they’re being unkind.

Once you’re able to answer calmly, you can let him know that you’re there to help, and that you’re not going anywhere:

Child – “YOU’RE SO MEAN!”

Mom – “I’m sorry you feel that way. You sound really angry. What do you need me to do to help you?”

Sometimes, a calm conversation is enough. Sometimes, the child really is just that angry, and needs to run around or punch a pillow or go outside and yell. If it’s not anger, but disappointment or excitement instead; the same principles hold true. The goal is to work with – not against – your child, to help him find safe and appropriate outlets for expressing his feelings.

If there aren’t extenuating circumstances, it really will get better with time, patience, and love. And if it helps for commiseration sake, my child who most resembled yours at age 4, is now the most laid-back, calm, and tender-hearted teen you’d ever hope to meet.

3 Comments

Filed under gentle parenting, mindful parenting, parenting, Q and A

February 4, 2015 · 9:56 AM

Q and A – How Do I Move To Gentle Parenting?

On YouTube with an answer to another parenting question:

If you have children and have been spanking and using rewards and punishments their whole lives, how do you start to make the needed connections to be a gentle parent?

I answer this question, and share my own favorite piece of parenting advice I’ve ever heard. Plus, another cameo appearance by my cat. 🙂

That Time When I Got the Sex Talk Right

I’ve really struggled when it comes to talking to my kids about sex.

I mean, I’ve always been open, and honest. I’ve always used the correct terminology for body parts. I’ve always let the kids know that they can come to me with questions. But talking about sex makes me….. nervous. Uncomfortable.

The boys never really came right out and asked me “where babies come from”. And when they did ask questions heading in that direction, I (and I’m not proud of it) gave into my own discomfort, gave the least amount of information as possible, and carefully tiptoed around the issue until they were satisfied.

And then came my daughter. My wonderfully curious and outspoken and to-the-point daughter who taught me how to be a mother all over again. There is no tiptoeing around Tegan (almost 7 at the time of this writing).

So when she asked me, “How do women get pregnant?” this morning, I knew that she wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than a real, direct answer. I knew that she deserved that real, direct answer. I also knew that she was asking exactly what it sounded like she was asking, so I wouldn’t get an “out” this time.

So, I plunged ahead, discomfort be damned.

“Well, from sex. Do you know what sex is?”

She screamed and covered her ears.

I waited. If screaming and ear-covering were indicators of going in the right direction, I was golden.

Then she separated her fingers like someone not wanting to (but wanting to) peek at a scary scene in a horror movie. But with her ears. “Tell me.”

“Do you want to know? You’re covering your ears.”

“They’re not ON my ears. They’re around my ears. Tell me.”

And so I told her. I told her that the man has something called sperm and that it fertilizes the egg in the woman when they come together. I gave her more specifics when she asked, “But HOW do they come together?” I explained how everything fit together, and I told her it was something that grown-ups did when they loved each other. She wanted to know who had sex, and why they had sex, and where they had sex, and finally… she was satisfied. She’d kept her fingers around her ears the entire time, just to be safe, and then simply said. “Okay. That is really weird.” And I thought that was the end of it, until her big brother walked into the room and she excitedly announced,

“Spencer, me and Mommy are talking about SEX! It involves penises and vaginas!!”

She is EXTREMELY pleased with her new-found information, which makes me feel like just maybe I did the whole sex-talk-thing right this time (after four tries). It also makes me wonder who might be the next recipient of her “it involves penises and vaginas” proclamations in the future.

If it’s you – or your child – I’m sorry. And, you’re welcome.

8 Comments

Filed under parenting, Uncategorized

January 12, 2015 · 9:52 AM

Choosing Joy

I made a little video. I’ve never made a video like this (and don’t plan to do it again) but I don’t know…. I started thinking about talking about fear, and I kept seeing the words in my head as little blurbs instead of one long written-out thing.

I apologize for the unprofessional-looking video, but it was my eighth attempt and I finally decided that I was just going to believe that you’d appreciate the message and forgive the imperfections. 🙂

10 Comments

Filed under learning, life, parenting, trust, unschooling

January 8, 2015 · 7:35 PM

Why We Need To Keep Talking About Leelah Alcorn

Leelah Alcorn, 1997-2014

I’ll be 41 in 2 days.

Even at 41, it still stings when I get disapproval from my parents. At this point, it’s stupid little things: they don’t like my nose ring, or that I gauged my ears. They stopped being excited about my tattoos after number 2 or 3. They hated my dreadlocks for every day of the three years that I had them. Such silly, inconsequential, superficial things, and yet I still – even as a grown, confident, very true-to-myself adult – I still falter, still wilt a little bit under their disapproval. Yes, I understand that they love me, but the feeling is still there, just under the surface. The feeling that I’m not living up to expectations. The feeling that I’ve disappointed in some way.

I cannot imagine, even for a second, the pain of being a teenager… a child… a time that’s confusing and difficult and rife with growing pains even under the best of circumstances… trying to figure out who you are and where you fit in…. and being met with rejection from your parents, the very people who are supposed to be your rock and your protector… rejection not for something immaterial like a hair style or a clothing choice, but for who you are.

Make no mistake, Leelah Alcorn was rejected by her parents.

In an interview with CNN, Leelah’s mother, Carla Alcorn said:

“We don’t support that, religiously [In response to her identifying as a girl]. But we told him that we loved him unconditionally. We loved him no matter what. I loved my son. People need to know that I loved him. He was a good kid, a good boy.”

And you know what, I’m sure that she did love her son. I don’t know Carla Alcorn. I have no reason to doubt her words. The problem is… this son that she loved didn’t exist. In Leelah’s own words, she knew she wasn’t “Josh” from the time she was 4 years old. She was 17 when she took her life, so that means that she lived for 13 years as someone other than who her parents wanted and expected her to be. And when she did tell them? She was met with disapproval. She was met with rejection. She was sent to Christian therapists… therapists who didn’t address her big feelings, didn’t help her with her depression, but instead tried to “fix” her. Tried to tell her how wrong she was. Tried to tell her how she just needed to pray it away. Pray away the person that she’d been since she was four years old.

Her parents did not support her, she’d been cut off from her friends, and even her “therapists” (who are supposed to help!) only served to tell her how shameful she was.

I think about how alienated and alone she must have felt and I feel sick.

And if you’re reading this and thinking, “Well it’s sad that she took her life, but being transgender is wrong,” I don’t care that you think it’s wrong. And I mean it in the most respectful way possible, but I really, truly don’t care. Because there’s such a thing as a right and a wrong way to treat people, and we have failed – all of us, as a society – we have shamefully failed in our treatment of people like Leelah Alcorn.

As for her parents:

Her parents have the right to their religious beliefs. They have the right to disagree with her decision to transition to female. Absolutely. But as parents they also had a responsibility. A responsibility to realize that their right to their own beliefs did not and should not supersede their daughter’s right to feel safe and loved and accepted in her own home. A responsibility to understand that their religious rights end where another person’s human rights begin (and not just any old person, but their CHILD!). Leelah had the right to be loved and cared for and protected FOR WHO SHE WAS, not who they wanted her to be. Even in death, they refuse to call her by her chosen gender pronoun, and that to me speaks volumes.

I hesitate to bring religion into it, because I don’t really believe it’s about religion. I believe it’s about love and acceptance. But I feel like it has to be addressed, because I have seen far too many comments along the lines of “This is why I hate Christians.” [And as an aside, I need to believe that the people who say that don’t actually hate all Christians, because if they did, it would mean that they practice the very same bigotry that they’re speaking out against.] It stands to be said that not all Christians would behave the same way as Leelah’s parents. Not all Christians are the same. It bothers me – deeply – how often I find myself needing to say that, but it’s true. In fact my faith informs me very very differently. My faith tells me to love…. deeply, truly, unconditionally. My faith tells me that in order to parent, and parent well, that I need to accept and honor my children for WHO THEY ARE, not tell them through my words and actions that the essence of their identity is wrong or bad or shameful.

My faith tells me that the God I love would not create my child in a particular way (in Leelah’s case as a chid born with male genitalia but who ultimately identified as female), only to want me to reject and alienate the very person He created.

And don’t misunderstand me. I can’t pretend to know what it’s like to be the parent of a transgender child. I can’t pretend to know the pain of losing a child, and the pain of knowing that my own choices contributed.

What I do know is that the words Leelah spoke in her heartbreaking suicide note reflect not just the anguish of her own life and death, but also speak to a much more universal problem. There are countless other “Leelahs” out there, and they need our support. And as the days pass, and people mention her name less and less, I feel almost panicky inside. Panicky because I feel like we NEED to keep talking about this. I feel like we need to remember. I feel like we need to take the lesson learned from Leelah’s life and death and live it.

What does it take for our society to wake up? What does it take for us to stand on the side of compassion and understanding and acceptance for all people? What does it take for us to err on the side of love?

These are the questions we should be asking ourselves all the time, not just in response to tragedy.

Leelah shouldn’t have died. Oh she shouldn’t have died! By all accounts, she was a beautiful and talented soul. But I thank her for leaving her words for all of us, for the powerful and important and timeless message of love, acceptance, and kindness for all. I pray that she finds the peace that she never found on earth.

The only way I will rest in peace is if one day transgender people aren’t treated the way I was, they’re treated like humans, with valid feelings and human rights. Gender needs to be taught about in schools, the earlier the better. My death needs to mean something. My death needs to be counted in the number of transgender people who commit suicide this year. I want someone to look at that number and say “that’s fucked up” and fix it. Fix society. Please.

Sending love to all, in Leelah’s honor.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————–

If you are transgender and contemplating suicide, you can call the Trans Lifeline at 877-565-8860

LGBT youth (24 years and younger) can call the Trevor Project Lifeline at 1-866-7386

For all ages and identities, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255

4 Comments

Filed under acceptance, headlines, hot topics, judgement, kindness, love, parenting

December 15, 2014 · 9:30 AM

Saying No to Say Yes

It’s a week and a half before Christmas, which is always…. tricky.

I adore Christmas. Love it. Love the spirit. Love giving presents. Love the lights. Love the food. Love the Christmas cookies. Love hanging out with my family.

But it can be so BUSY, which, if left unchecked, can lead to stressful. Exhausting. The exact opposite of what you’d want a holiday season to be.

This year I was well on my way to the latter. I haven’t been sleeping, I’m still smack in the middle of my recovery and rehab, I’m still in daily pain, the house has once again gotten away from me.

And there are gifts to wrap! Plans to make! Events to attend!

There’s a six year old, looking to her mom with love and expectation and wonderment, trusting that I’ll make the season magical and fun and exciting.

I literally couldn’t “do Christmas” at the speed I was going, and take care of all my other responsibilities, and focus on my recovery, and make things nice for the kids, and maintain any level of sanity.

So, I started saying no.

The first thing I said no to was Christmas cards, even though we do them every year. The pictures, the designing, the addressing, the stamping. And you know what? The earth is going to keep spinning even if all my relatives and friends don’t get a smiley picture of the McGrails to hang on their wall for two weeks before they recycle it.

Then I said no to a writing project, one I’d actually really wanted to do, but that carried a deadline of ten days before Christmas.

I said no to adding 237 new cookies to my repertoire this year.

I said no to causing myself physical pain by making the house reach some magical level of cleanliness before we have guests. They’ll deal.

I said no to feeling like I needed to answer all my emails, or respond to everyone’s questions, or to fulfill anyone else’s expectations. Yesterday morning, I got up and cleaned out my email box with one big (what I’d like to think was polite) response along the lines of, “I’ll get to this after the new year.”

I said no to doing, deciding, or thinking about anything that isn’t a priority right now.

And those “no”s freed me.

Those “no”s mean that I can say YES to my girl, and to my family, who shouldn’t have to pay the price for me not being able to say no when it’s needed.

YES to a lazy day at the zoo.

YES to paper snowflakes.

YES to a movie and popcorn first thing in the morning.

YES to playing with new dolls.

YES to gingerbread houses.

YES to playdates.

YES to driving around at night just to look at Christmas lights.

YES to Christmas parties with friends.

YES to spending hours reconnecting over Pay Day or Minecraft or Little Big Planet.

YES to hot chocolate and whipped cream.

YES to carpet picnics.

YES to quiet moments, and loud moments, and silly moments.

The “yes”s come quickly and easily, or at least they do when I’m not bogged down with Very Important To-Dos (ie: things I probably need to say no to). I often find it strange and frustrating how hard it is to say no sometimes. Why should it be hard? Why shouldn’t we be able to say no at any time, for any reason, and not give it a single moment of regret?

I can’t be all things to all people at all times. I said those words on my FB page just a couple of weeks ago, and I know I’ll say them again. I seem to need the constant reminder.

I can’t be all things to all people at all times.

Because the thing is, there is nothing more important than my family, especially right now. So when the moment comes and I have to make a choice…. when I feel that little tug of “But, but… you need to do this! You have to do that!” I’ll answer, “You know what, as a matter of fact I DON’T.”

This year I’m giving myself the gift of NO, and what a gift it is.

2 Comments

Filed under about me, Christmas, family, parenting, perspective

November 14, 2014 · 7:24 PM

Ten Tips for Happier Living With Your Teenager

I love teenagers.

I’m lucky enough to have two (so far) of my own, but I love getting to borrow other people’s teens as well.

Teens are awesome. They’re smart and funny and interesting, and some of the most multi-faceted people I know. One minute they have more maturity than an adult …. and the next they’re simply really tall children, embracing all the sense of play and wonder that too many people lose as they get older. One of my favorite memories of the conference was when I peeked into the teen room at one point to see that all the tables had been tipped on their sides, pushed together, and covered with table cloths to make a really huge fort… much like a toddler would do with sheets in the living room. 🙂 Even now, nearly two months later, it still makes me smile.

They’re wonderful.

Which is why, when I read articles like the one I just read that advised controlling your teen through shame and humiliation, one of the many things I feel is genuine fear that people are missing out on what could potentially be one their favorite stages of life with their children.

And yes, there are challenges, as there are at any age, in any relationship. Parenting a teenager is a whole different ball game than parenting a younger child, to be sure. But the answer to the struggles is not more control, but more understanding.

Here then are 10 things that help my relationship with my teens stay as close and connected as it was when they were little:

1. Respect their need to hibernate – When Spencer (now 17) was going through puberty, he started sleeping…. a LOT. It honestly felt like he was sleeping 20 hours a day, although I’m sure it wasn’t really that much. When he wasn’t sleeping, he was lounging with a remote or a PS3 control, and my formally talkative, animated kid mostly grunted to me in response. I was starting to get genuinely concerned until I started asking my friends with older kids and they all assured me that it is very very normal, and that my job was to basically just keep on loving him and not try to change him. The fresh perspective helped when Paxton started going through it a couple years later. “Yes! I remember this! And it’s okay.” Teens hibernate sometimes. They’re going through major changes and they may withdraw/sleep/grump for weeks or months or years. It’s okay. Respect it.

2. Respect their right to privacy – I can think of no way quicker way to break trust (with anyone, but particularly with a teenager) than by snooping through their things, demanding personal information, or not respecting their space. YES, be involved in their lives. YES, have open lines of communication. YES, work with them to help keep them safe. But rifling through rooms and phones and Facebook accounts only destroys trust, creates feelings of violation, and widens the gulf between you.

3. Respect their individuality – I have two very different teenagers. One’s a sharer. One holds his cards very close to his chest. One’s an extrovert. One needs to spend massive amounts of time in his room to recover after any sort of event. One has a wickedly dry sense of humor. One laughs when someone says “balls.” I love them both equally, and I love spending time with them both equally, but my time spent with each is different, and it wouldn’t be fair to expect anything else. Allowing someone to be themselves is one of the greatest gifts you can give them, especially during teenhood, a time when their sense of self can be so tenuous.

4. Remember what it was like to be a teenager – I was 15 the first time I truly got my heart broken by a boy. Whenever I think of being a teen, that immediately springs to mind. But whether it was boys or teachers or peer pressure or betrayals of false friends or just feeling like NOBODY UNDERSTANDS, being a teen was HARD. Life felt like an emergency. All. The. Time. My body was changing; Hormones were raging; I was trying to figure out who I was, where I fit, what the world meant. I was stressed out and confused and uncomfortable in my own skin. Now, admittedly I don’t see nearly as much of that in my own teens (some of which can probably be attributed to genetics, and some to unschooling). Their transition to teenhood has been a much smoother ride, and they’re generally drama-free. But. There are moments, for sure, that are difficult, and the very best that I can do to help is truly remember how it felt so I can listen sincerely, empathize honestly, and when there is nothing else to say, offer a genuine, “Yeah, life really sucks sometimes. But it does get better.”

5. Encourage their independence – Earlier this fall, Paxton flew to Michigan (at 14) to stay with friends for a couple of weeks. This was a first for both of us, and I missed him terribly – I’ve faced up to the fact that I just feel the best when all of my chicks are “in the nest” – but it was an amazing and important trip for him, and one that gave him the confidence to do more traveling on his own. So while my instinct nearly told me to throw my arms around his ankles and beg him not to go (in a slightly less dramatic fashion, of course), I knew that it was a positive thing for both of us. Letting go is just as much a part of parenting as holding on, from the small ways to the large, and being a parent to a teenager means letting go again and again. Independence is an important part of a child’s growing autonomy, especially as a teen, and it’s our job to honor it. BUT,

6. Don’t PUSH their independence – There’s no magic age at which a person needs to: get a job, get a driver’s license, or for that matter, fly solo across the country to visit a friend.Everyone’s path is different; everyone’s time-table is different. Life is not a race to the finish line. One person’s journey is not better than another’s, and it’s remarkably unfair as a parent to compare. Sometimes a teen needs wings to fly. Sometimes he needs someone to sit by his side and say, “I’ll be here as long as you need me.” It doesn’t matter what your niece or your friend’s son or the go-getter across the street is doing. What your child needs from you is for you to support THEM, exactly as they are. Encouraging, cheering, supporting…. but never PUSHING before they’re ready.

7. Check in with them often – Remember the hibernating from point #1? It can be SO easy to just let them do their thing and only say hello if you happen to cross paths when they finally got hungry enough to come out to the kitchen to make a sandwich. And, for sure, there is a certain degree of giving them their space that’s not just okay but necessary. But relationships can’t exist in a vaccuum. They need consistent care in order to thrive. Have dinner together.Find out what’s new. Bring her a fun snack when she’s at her computer. Ask him about the book he’s reading. Surprise them with the movie they’ve been wanting to see. You can’t maintain a healthy relationship without connections, and you can’t have connections without taking the time to make them.

8. Be interested and interesting – One of the truly fun things about having teens is that they’re able to discuss and have opinions about more “grown up” things like current events, shared TV shows, or politics. I love getting my boys’ perspective on all of the above, and I share my own thoughts freely. Similarly, I show an interest in their interests (which, admittedly doesn’t always come naturally. I’m not a video game player for instance, and all of my kids are. I’m learning) If it’s important to them, I respect it. I listen to their stories. I share articles/websites/videos that I think they’ll be interested in. I share of myself too! I’ll tell them the funny thing that happened when I was at yoga. I’ll talk about the blog post I’m writing. In short, I involve them in my life, and – when I’m invited – I involve myself in theirs.

9. Don’t take everything personally – So, I’m sensitive, and I have a tendency to get my feelings hurt easily, especially when it comes to the kids. Experience has taught me that this is NOT a helpful trait, particularly in the arena of parenting teens. As I said above, being a teen can be hard, and that hardness sometimes spills, leaks, or spews out as something resembling sarcasm or sullenness or anger or selfishness. In other words, they’re human, just like the rest of us, doing their best to deal with life and circumstances and big, big changes. I remember once when one of my boys and I went through a phase when we were seemingly butting heads daily, and I inevitably went to bed with my feelings hurt just about every time. It was just a season – in hindsight, it didn’t last long, but in the moment it felt like it went on forever. At the height of it, I cried – bawled – one day in the car, hurt because we’d had plans together and he backed out at the last minute. I allowed myself that sadness, but then I took a step back and reminded myself: “It’s not about me.” I’d gotten hurt with collateral damage, yes, but it was really, truly not about me. It was just something he was going through, a messy period of growth, and my internalizing it and getting all visibly upset about it not only didn’t help, but also just prolonged the problem. Once I recognized that, and emotionally extricated myself from the situation, it gave him the space to work through whatever it was he was working through, he realized I was on his side, and our relationship rapidly improved.

10. Don’t be afraid to be their friend – No, not someone who just tells them what they want to hear, and not someone who’s only around for the fun stuff, but an actual friend. Listen without judgement, accept them for who they are, be someone they can trust at all times. Be the one they can ask about last week’s Breaking Bad, AND about last weeks election. Be the one they feel they can come to with their celebrations AND their heartache.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Above all, be their constant. Their unshakable, unmovable rock in a world and life that’s so rife with change and uncertainty. It’ll be hard sometimes, but it’ll also be oh so very very worth it. Because despite what the overly negative, mainstream, “Just wait till your kids are teens” admonitions may try to tell you, teens are amazing. And the person who gets to parent one (or 2 or 3 or 4) is a lucky, lucky parent indeed.

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Filed under gentle parenting, parenting, teens

November 10, 2014 · 1:18 PM

Being a Parent AND a Friend: Why I’ll Never Separate The Two

As an advocate of homeschooling, I forever hear the question, “But what about socialization?” and am inevitably filled with frustration. It’s not the asker’s fault of course, but it is a question born of a lack of understanding. A lack of understanding about homeschooling, and an even larger lack of understanding of the word “socialization.”

When it comes to parenting, the socialization conversation’s pesky little cousin tends to be, “It’s not my job to be their friend; it’s my job to be the PARENT.” Again and again it comes up on blogs, on parenting sites, and on social media.

“Be their PARENT, not their FRIEND.” No matter how it’s packaged, worded, or framed, it all says the same thing, and issues the same dire warning. Whatever you do, no matter how much you’re tempted, for the love of all that is good and holy, never mix friendship with parenting.

I see these words, and I hear these warnings, and I can never help but think of that ubiquitous line from The Princess Bride:

You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.

I’ve decided that people are just really, really confused about the meaning of the word, “friend.” That’s the only possible explanation I can think of for a why a person (or a lot of persons) would not only fail to see its importance in parenting, but actually deliberately EXCLUDE it, at any time, from their relationship with their children.

A friend is someone with whom you have a deep connection. Someone you respect, and who respects you. Someone you can trust, implicitly. Someone who encourages you, cheers you on, and believes in your dreams. Someone who has your back, no matter what. Someone who LETS YOU BE YOU. Someone who listens without judgement, gives honest advice, and always has your best interest at heart. Someone who has seen you at your best and your worst. Someone who isn’t afraid to call you out on your bullshit, and still loves you just the same. Someone who lifts you up when you’re down, catches you when you fall, and provides a port in the middle of your storm. Someone who, if you text to say “I need you” at 2 in the morning, no matter the reason, no matter the circumstances, will steadfastly respond “I’ll be right there.” Someone who, even when it feels like the rest of the world has conspired against you, is on your side.

I’m going to be that person for my kids. Every time, in all situations. With no disclaimers and no apology.

Why on earth would anyone choose NOT to be that person for their kids?

And I’m told I misunderstand. That when people say, “Be the parent, not the friend” that what they really mean is that you shouldn’t make decisions with the goal of getting your children to like you. But that’s not a friend. (And I’d also argue that if you’re doing/saying things that cause the people in your life not to like you, perhaps that’s something to examine in and of itself)

They’ll say that they aren’t going to be like peers who encourage or are silent about dangerous/unhealthy behaviors. But that’s not a friend.

They’ll say that as parents they need to do the hard stuff, and can’t be the “fun” one all the time… the one you get together with to lightheardedly hang out, shoot the breeze, or share a meal. And while there’s nothing wrong with easy relationships with pals like that if you choose it, that’s not a true friend either. A true friend is there for the fun and the difficult. The lighthearted and the serious. The laughter and the tears.

They’ll say that “Sure, sometimes you get to be their friend, but sometimes you have to “be the parent.”” Or, “Sure, you get to be their friend, but being a parent has to come first.” But being a friend isn’t something you do part time; or at least it shouldn’t be. It’s not something you take on and off like a sweater. That trust, that connection, that relationship should always be there, every time, in all interactions.

Finally, some people will tell me, “I’ll be their friend when they’re adults. Right now, I’m the parent.” And this to me is the saddest – and riskiest – of all. This is blunt, but…. there is a very very real possibility that if you don’t choose that relationship with your children now, that they won’t choose to have it with you when they are older.

“But, but….” they’ll say, “You have to guide! You have to protect! You have to show them right and wrong!” Of course you do. Of course you’re the parent. I have never once advocated for permissive parenting on this blog, and certainly am not going to start now.

Being a friend, and being a gentle parent, does not mean being a doormat. It means a partnership born of mutual respect, connection, and compassion… one in which both voices are heard, and both opinions carry weight. And for those times when one opinion needs to trump the other? Maybe someone is about to do something dangerous or foolish such as run into the street when a car is coming. This is something I hear a LOT, both in this conversation, and the spanking conversation. (“But how will they learn to stay out of the street??” And as an aside, I have four children who learned not to play in traffic, who have never once been spanked) It’s a silly argument. If one of my children were in immediate danger, of course I would respectfully intervene…. and I would do so as a responsible parent AND as a concerned friend.

If you forget the articles, ignore the experts, and tune out the noise, you realize that parenting is about a relationship. And it’s been the most intense, most meaningful, most rewarding relationship I’ve ever experienced. I can’t separate the friend from the mom because my relationship with my kids is BASED on friendship. The ultimate friendship. Deep friendship. Strong trust. True respect. It’s a friendship rooted in love and history (how many of your other friends have you literally known since they took their first breath?). It’s a friendship that’s at once simple and complex. It’s a friendship that’s often evolving and sometimes messy and always beautiful. It’s a friendship that’s peaceful and safe and familiar. It’s a friendship that’s profound and life-changing and pretty much indescribable to those who haven’t experienced it.

And it is always there, threaded through each moment, each word, and each interaction. Through the good times and the tricky times and the really tricky times. I will always be their friend, and they know this.

I am their friend.

And I don’t mean to minimize the relationship when I say that, because of course my relationship with my children encompasses friendship and so. much. more. So I’m not suggesting that a parent-child relationship is only a friendship, because it’s obviously more complicated than that.

But I tell you what…. it’s a heck of a good place to start.

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Filed under gentle parenting, mindful parenting, misconceptions, parenting

September 15, 2014 · 12:35 PM

Hitting is Hitting is Hitting

On March 27th, 2014, an NFL player named Ray Rice was indicted by a grand jury for third-degree aggravated assault on his then-fiancee, Janay Palmer. This past week, the website TMZ released footage of him punching Palmer, which led to the Baltimore Ravens terminating his contract.

Also this week: Adrian Peterson, another player with the NFL, was indicted for child abuse when his child’s mother noticed whipping injuries on their 4 year old son’s legs, and took him to a doctor who contacted the authorities. Peterson was benched by the Minnesota Vikings, but was reinstated three days later.

Like most people, I’m angry and saddened and frustrated by these stories of violence in the news. In this instance though, the disparity of the public’s reaction to these two similar cases has left me particularly cold. I would say I was shocked, but sadly I’m not. This is 2014, and children are still seen as second-class citizens.

While few are defending Rice – people overwhelmingly, and rightly, realize that it’s not okay to use physical violence against your partner – many are rising up to speak out in support of Peterson, who was just as violent, only against a small child.

“He should be able to discipline as he sees fit.”

“That’s just the way people are raised in the South”

“People need to butt out and let him parent however he wants.”

“I don’t get why he’s in legal trouble for disciplining his own kid.”

“Someone explain what Adrian Peterson did that was considered child abuse?”

“I don’t see what the big deal is. I got my ass whooped as a child, and I turned out fine.”

Let me be very, very clear when I say this: There is NO defense for what he did. There is no defense or justification or excuse for hitting a small child, ever. What he did was wrong. It pains me to have say it out loud, but that doesn’t make it any less true. It is wrong.

And to the people who are out there saying, “Yeah, he took it too far. There is a difference between spanking and beating. There’s nothing wrong with spanking/some kids need it/they have to learn, etc,” I humbly offer that you are indeed part of the problem.

Stop.

Stop making it a game of semantics. Stop pretending that it’s okay to hit children if you add certain qualifiers. Stop refusing to see spanking for what it is. Stop believing that children are lesser beings than other humans. Stop perpetuating the cycle of violence. Stop ignoring the fact that if you’re still advocating for hitting people smaller than you that you are not fine. Stop equating DISCIPLINE with PUNISHMENT. Stop defending people who hit their children, and start speaking out for the people who can’t speak out for themselves.

And to my fellow Christians? Stop using misinterpretations of the Bible as an excuse for hitting children. It’s an unending conversation, and I’m not having it anymore. I will no longer publish, acknowledge, or respond to any comments that claim the Bible commands us to spank. Read Jesus the Gentle Parent. Read Gentle Firmness. Read Thy Rod and Thy Staff They Comfort Me (this one is a free download). Read the words of the people who have put in the time and the research and the study that shows that the Bible just doesn’t say what you think it says. Don’t let ignorance be an excuse.

As a Christian (and just as a caring human being), I believe that relationships should start from a place of love and respect. I believe this to be true of ALL relationships, but especially the relationship between parent and child. Hitting has no place in any loving relationship. Our children look up to us. They learn from us how to navigate the world. How to solve problems. How to get along with others. How to deal with conflict. Hitting our children, for any reason, raises them to be people who believe that hitting is a reasonable, acceptable way to interact with others. It raises them to be people who, unless they fight to break the cycle, will hit their own children.

It raises them to be individuals who defend people like Adrian Peterson.

Stop the justification and the word games and the Bible-verse-slinging. Spanking, swatting, switching, popping, tapping… paint it any color you’d like. It’s all hitting, and it’s all wrong.

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Filed under gentle discipline, gentle parenting, headlines, parenting

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