Our Childish Ways

Published in the Richmond Times Dispatch!

Wed, 30 May 2012 11:44:58 -0400

In case you missed last Saturday’s paper, or live outside of Richmond, or have done away with the antique altogether, here is the online version:

http://www2.timesdispatch.com/lifestyles/2012/may/26/tdmet01-faith-and-values-ar-1943944/

Welcome Summer

Mon, 28 May 2012 14:51:30 -0400

No post today, but can’t let the opportunity pass to pay respects and offer humble appreciation for those who have given their lives for the freedoms I so frequently take for granted. I hope you have a great holiday. Welcome summer!

Pretty Amazing

Thu, 24 May 2012 14:23:27 -0400

I often write about the cultural pressures on today’s family, specifically the idol of perfection that is crippling mothers, causing them to doubt themselves, unnecessarily burden their children, and destroy family life. Most of the moms I talk to are, in a word, exhausted. As they should be. Perfection does not now nor will it ever exist in this world. Never. And the pursuit of the impossible is exhausting. No one can be all things to all people. But the fear of what we are not is blinding us to what we are. And in trying to achieve the unachievable, many moms are unhappily unaware of their accomplishments.

So I decided to make a list of all the hats I had worn when I was a young mother to my four. And when I made the list, I wished I had made the list a long time ago. I, like so many mothers I know, was much too hard on myself. I didn’t give myself enough credit. At the end of most days, I didn’t think about the many things I had accomplished, but only the few I had not. Or, I went to bed thinking about tomorrow’s list, prioritizing, managing and planning in my head what was to be, forgetting completely what was or had been. And, if I had accomplished little, I felt as if I had failed, disappointed with myself and my “performance.”

Life is not a performance and when we reduce it to that, we are always left feeling dissatisfied, unaccomplished, and ever in need of greater control. Control of ourselves, control of our family and friends, control of our children, control of our circumstances, control, control, control. And sadly, a little bit empty. Unfulfilled. Not good enough. And then the worst happens. We leave those around us feeling a little bit empty and not good enough. We become people who can never be pleased.

So I share my Many Hat List with you below because my bet is most of you have worn all of these hats and probably more, and my hope is you will recognize all that you are, and let yourself (and your children) off the hook for anything you feel you are not. In my years as a mother to four, I have been:

doctor, nurse, veterinarian, counselor, advisor, teacher, tutor, short order cook, chef, caterer, party planner, event planner, manager, scheduler, administrative assistant, driver, personal shopper, photographer, historian, housekeeper, laundress, bookkeeper, refuse maintenance, yard maintenance, decorator, painter, home repair, seamstress, elder caretaker, moving and storage

And to anyone wanting to see my resume, I would love to march out four adult children, imperfect yet responsible, flawed but respectful, needy and amazingly resourceful. They are the work of my hands. Top that!

But don’t wait to write your list, like I did. Write it now. And don’t wait to let yourself off the hook, like I did. Do it now. And don’t wait to let go of your desire to control like I did. Release it now. Stop performing and start living.

When my kids were young, we would send out a Christmas card every year with their picture enclosed and every year I would take picture after picture after picture, trying to get the perfect one. After Christmas I would go through the rejected photos, and every year I would think to myself, why did I take so many pictures? Many of these were really good. But before Christmas, they just weren’t good enough … and so I tortured the children and myself trying to get the perfect picture. My dear sweet wonderful mothers, there is no perfect picture. Stop torturing yourself and your children in search for it. Good enough is really good enough. In fact, good enough is really pretty amazing.

Pleasantly Surprised

Wed, 23 May 2012 11:02:24 -0400

Sometimes we are surprised at just how capable our kids really are. Here is a great story of a mom who got “out of the way” of her child’s ability.

http://thepioneerwoman.com/homeschooling/2012/05/in-defense-of-kids-who-do-housework/

Handy Suggestions

Tue, 22 May 2012 14:41:55 -0400

Even though I am an empty nester, I hope I never get too old to appreciate the advantages offered by new tools for family life. These are handy suggestions, for any size family!

http://www.4kidsormore.com/2012/03/3-more-must-have-kitchen-tools-for-4kids-families/#more-1632

Mom Enough

Mon, 21 May 2012 12:03:14 -0400

No doubt you have heard, read or seen the latest firestorm of media backlash over the cover of Time Magazine and the practice of Attachment Parenting. On the cover of the magazine is a young (and beautiful) mom nursing an almost four year old boy and the words Are You Mom Enough? I probably need say no more than that. Even if you know nothing of the article and never read Time Magazine, you can imagine the response that just the cover generated. Apparently the practice (and picture) of breastfeeding beyond infancy carries with it some rather strong opinions.

Attachment Parenting is a practice of parenting generally characterized by baby wearing (use of a sling or similar device worn by the mother for carrying the child), extended breastfeeding beyond the first year of life, co-sleeping with parents, prompt response to the needs of a child, and positive discipline with gentle redirection. The theory behind the practice seeks security in the child through establishing physical and emotional closeness with the parents.

Neither the article nor the parenting style evokes especially strong feelings in me. Personally I would not want to breastfeed a child past the first year of life, but for those inclined that way, I am not offended. Personally, I would not want to co-sleep with my child/children. I doubt I could – sleep, that is - even if I wanted to. I’m not a touchy feely and the thought of sleeping with a crowd is not enticing to me. I remember sleeping with my children when they were sick and I usually always ended up on the floor or in the chair beside them. Too fidgety for me. Personally I would not want to carry my child in a sling much past infancy. I don’t have the strength for it. But again, for those that do, I support you.

What struck me as ironic, however, is the repulsion some felt by those continuing the practices of infancy past what they felt was an appropriate age. Criticisms included statements like this style of parenting would encourage dependency on the parent. Really? This pattern would keep a child from discovery of himself as an individual. You’re kidding, right? This method would prohibit necessary boundaries between parent and child. I almost laughed out loud. In the American culture, the practice of attachment parenting extends far past breastfeeding and co-sleeping. We have children in college whose parents are daily redirecting and responding to their every need. Breastfeeding at four is the least of our worries.

What made me mad, however, was the title. What made me sad was the title. What made me sigh was the title. Are You Mom Enough? If I wanted to laugh at some of the ironic responses to the article, I wanted to cry at the cover title. After having spent some time working with mothers who hover and spin and manage and control, who feel responsible for every activity, every feeling, every grade, every moment of their child’s life, from cradle to college diploma, I see not just the effects of that on the children. I see first-hand, every day, the effects of that on the mothers.

The problem is not being enough. The problem is being too much. The problem is doing too much. But not one – not one – mother I have talked to has told me she felt like she was mom enough. Not one. Between the culture of over attachment parenting and the insidious drive to look and be perfect, with perfect children, who have perfect grades and are always perfectly happy and who get into the perfect college, today’s mom is burying herself under a perfect weight of insecurity, anxiety and self-doubt. They are convinced that they cannot do enough, be enough or give enough. And almost without exception, every single one of them, is about to give out. All in pursuit of something that does not exist. I rarely use the word hate, but I hate the title on that cover of Time Magazine.

My mother did not think of herself as flawless or perfect or above making a mistake. But her imperfection did not cripple her from leading with confidence and self-assurance. She did the best she could, she let herself off the hook for what she was not, she was confident in her own authority and humanity. And I am pretty sure she would have laughed at such a preposterous question as was on the cover of that magazine. She was mom enough and so are you. Believe it.

Entitlement

Thu, 17 May 2012 11:16:26 -0400

It is prom season for high school kids, which in today’s culture means pull out your checkbook. And like so many childhood events in today’s culture, the prom and the dinner before the prom and the dresses and the tuxedo rentals and the flowers and the hair and makeup appointments and the pictures and the limousines and the after-prom parties and the breakfasts have spiraled far past their original intent. And so have their costs. And so have the time and energy and preparation involved in the event. And so have the expectations – of both parent and child. Promflation, I think is the term I recently heard it called. And when all is said and done, this event which was originally intended as a privilege and reward, a rite of passage of growing up, becomes one among the many “requirements” and unquestioned essentials of raising children.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to take the prom away from kids. Far from it. I went to my senior prom and had a great time. But the truth is, hindsight comes with perspective and in hindsight, it was just that and only that, a fun evening. The problem is not the prom. The problem is not the schools. The problem is not the kids. The problem is the parents. In a culture of privilege, where many high school children have cell phones, laptops, iPads, iPods, cars to drive, and every available form of entertainment imaginable, of course the prom has escalated in production and cost. How else do you top what has become everyday life? And for whatever reason, parents, who pay the tab for all of this, have bought into the system, with unquestioned devotion.

And with the very best of intentions these same parents are creating the attitude of arrogance and entitlement in their children. They don’t know it. They think they are meeting needs. They think they are creating opportunities. They think they are satisfying necessary expectations. And many are not really thinking at all. They are just following the cultural pattern. And if the complaints I hear from these parents are indicative of their thinking, complaints about time and expense and energy spent for their kids, then it is clear that they do not see the prom, or the car, or the phone, or the computer, or any number of privileges as privileges. They see them as requirements, as necessities. Of course the kids feel entitled. Their parents feel it for them. Their parents feed it into them.

So what is the answer? Do we just declare war on the prom? Do we take away their cell phones, their laptops, their video games? Do we shut down all forms of social media? Well … possibly. But instead of removing them from the world that they will one day have to navigate on their own, maybe we need to rethink what is required and what is privilege, and then help our children recognize the difference. Maybe we as parents need to remember what is required and what is privilege and then act accordingly.

The fastest way to scale back things like proms and dances and school trips is to ask your children to help fund them. Whoa … nothing will let you know how much they value all you are doing faster than to stop doing it. Nothing will make evident what is important and what is excess, for both parent and child, than the withdrawal of the money that provides for both. Maybe what is necessary to appreciate the use of a car is to require a child to pay for the gas, or the insurance, or both. Maybe what is necessary to really appreciate and enjoy a prom is to have to pay for some of the prom. Maybe a cell phone becomes an appreciated luxury if the requirement is made to pay for part, or all, of the monthly bill. In order to fully appreciate anything, at any age, maybe it is necessary for it to cost us something. Funny how values change when personal expense is involved.

And here’s another suggestion. Ask your kids to give back. Ask your kids to think of someone other than themselves. You, as their parents, expand your thoughts beyond your kids and allow yourselves to see the need outside of your immediate family, all around you, because it is there. And then give. Give of yourself. Journey where need is great. Instead of taking a child on a vacation, participate in a mission trip, either through a church community or through a volunteer organization. Do whatever it takes, but immerse yourself and your children in the needs of others. Open their eyes, and maybe your own, to their own abundance and the amazingly desperate conditions that exist for some.

To whom much is given, much should be required, but how will our children ever know that they have been given much if they never experience less? How will they be anything less than entitled if they are never expected to contribute? Excess gives way to an arrogant, demanding attitude. It is in scarcity and shortage that all of us learn gratitude, appreciation, concern for others. But they can never learn gratitude, appreciation and concern for others if they never experience it in their own life or the lives of others. They need a balanced picture. And they need parents who live it, expect it, who will settle for nothing less.

Birthday Party Ideas

Wed, 16 May 2012 15:35:43 -0400

In a culture of excess and indulgence, some of these birthday party ideas are a refreshing change and are easy to do, inexpensive to produce, and best of all, make the party giver look creative and inventive!

http://www.dailycandy.com/everywhere/flipbook/124877/DIY-Birthday-Decorations

Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

Tue, 15 May 2012 12:23:03 -0400

Don’t sweat the small stuff? Less fretting? Less hovering? Less stress? I’m all for it. Below are the solutions that some moms found helpful. No one size fits all, so determine what works for you, what you can let go of, what brings more peace to the day and do it!

http://moms.today.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2012/05/01/11477363-these-moms-dont-sweat-the-small-stuff

Rock-A-Bye Baby

Mon, 14 May 2012 10:27:05 -0400

A good friend was out of town and asked me to drop by her house and unlock her back door for the lawn care company coming that day. So, as requested, I did just that. On my way to work, I stopped by and unlocked the back door which opens into her laundry room. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. To anyone else all that was in there was a washer and a dryer, a trashcan, a table and a small rocking chair. But it was the rocking chair that threw me. It was the rocking chair that stopped me dead in my tracks. It was the rocking chair that almost made me late for work.

Three years ago, with an impending empty nest and a desire to simplify my life, I moved from the home in which I had raised my family to a smaller, more efficient, townhome. Even in their deaths, my sweet parents taught me valuable life lessons, not the least of which was that you really do not take anything with you. Armed with the conviction of that truth, I purged myself of anything unnecessary and I worked hard only to move with what I needed and a few of the memories of four childhoods. Unwilling to relinquish the nursery crib and rocker, I asked this friend if she would store them for me.

It was that rocker that met me in her laundry room. A small little rocker that held big memories. A simple piece of furniture that carried with it some of the happiest moments of my life. Standing in her laundry room on that winter morning, the cold air at my back and the warmth of the room flooding my face, my heart was also flooded with memories. I just stood there, stuck in the moment and in the past.

In those brief moments I was back to a night when my middle son was an infant. I had heard him cry to be fed and my heart sank. Surely he wasn’t ready to eat again. I just fed him. Or at least that’s how it felt. Sleep, precious sleep. When you are parents with a new baby, you feel at times as if you would sell your soul for a good night’s sleep. He cried and I wanted to cry. Reluctantly I got out of bed and made my way to his room.

I could see the room vividly in my memory. The nursery was quite small, with one window directly across the door to the room. Even with the blinds closed, a shaft of light from the street light in the alley behind our house was streaming onto one of the walls, enough so that I could get to him without turning on a light or fully opening my eyes. Maybe I could get through this without totally waking up. My son was a summer baby and the air conditioners were humming their background din, hopefully providing enough noise to keep all others in the house asleep as well.

I got to his crib and picked him up. And my heart caved. Even in my half conscious haze, the mom in me took over the moment. I had several miscarriages between this child and his older brother and sister. I did not love him more than his siblings, but I appreciated him in a way I did not appreciate the previous two. I didn’t take pregnancy and birth for granted, as if having a baby was just a decision I got to make. He was a gift, a miracle, and even in the middle of the night in a house humming with sleep, I was aware of just how fortunate I was to hold him in my arms.

And so I fed him. And I changed him. And in twenty minutes or so, he was asleep. And I should have put him back in his bed and crawled back into my own. But I held him. And I rocked him. I felt his limp little body asleep in my arms. I smelled his sweet head under my chin. And I just kept holding and rocking, holding and rocking, holding and rocking. Thirty minutes prior, I had to drag myself out of my bed, and now, in that dark, quiet room, with its shadow of light on the walls, the soft early summer air on our skin and the hum of the air conditioner in the background, I couldn’t drag myself back to bed. I was a different mom with this baby. This was my third child, and unlike the first two, I knew just how fast this was going to fly. I knew that in a heartbeat, he would be begging to get down, too big to be held. I knew that this peaceful and seemingly insignificant moment was a treasure.

It was that memory that held me captive in the laundry room. There are many significant events in the life of a child. First birthdays quickly turn into 16th birthdays. Riding a bike all too soon becomes driving a car. Leaving them at kindergarten is only a heartbeat away from dropping them off at college. Holidays, graduations, weddings – all significant, all important, all deserving of celebration and most captured by the eye of a camera. But I would venture a guess that it is the unimportant moments that carry the greatest significance. Trapped in the routine of daily living are small moments of sweetest joy. And if you have the choice of going back to bed or holding on to that moment just a little bit longer, my advice is to hold on. Hold on for as long as you can. Because these are the riches of the heart. These are the secret delights of life and parenthood that pass quickly by. These are the memories that happen outside a camera’s reach, absent of applause or celebration. Random, insignificant moments of priceless worth and greatest delight.

The Hand that Rocks the Cradle

Thu, 10 May 2012 10:07:53 -0400

I had a great mom. She passed away three years ago, and though she is no longer with me physically, she continues to live in my heart and mind and the work of her hands is highly evident in the lives of my brother and me. She was not flawless, but the quiet strength of her character and her inner confidence were the foundations of my being. I offer today the eulogy I shared at her funeral in memory of her, in honor to her, in appreciation for her.

When my brother and I were teenagers and we came to Mom to seek permission for something, we usually came on behalf of our friends as well, because it was well known that when those same friends wanted permission for something from their parents, the first question would be, “Well what did Jackie Carter say?” If we could get the ok through my mom, then all the other mothers would fall in line.

I thought of that when the family gathered yesterday with the minister and he asked us to share together stories of growing up with Jackie and Jimmy. On the face of it, my mom’s career was neither impressive nor seemingly significant. She had only a high school education. She began working at the age of 16 and worked in the accounting department of Southern States on an adding machine that today’s technology has made completely obsolete. It was there that she met my dad, they married and had my brother and me. In the eyes of the world, she was just a wife and mother.

But I believe that God would say that the world’s perspective is foolishness. There is no higher calling than just a mother. There is no more powerful position than just a mother. There is no greater career than just a mother. And the hand that rocks the cradle does indeed rule the world. No one is more influential to the adult that is buried in the child than a mom. The role didn’t define my mother; my mother defined the role.

My dad used to laugh and say, “Janet, I couldn’t chase your mother to work with a stick”, and she would shoot him a look, and then laugh herself. It was true, because my mom had found her work in us and in our home and in her marriage and she was tops in her field. And that career extended to the many of our friends that wound their way through our home, or ate a meal at our table. What her hand found to do, she did with all her might.

When I was in college, I sent my mom a card for Mother’s Day, and I still remember the verse inside. It said, “Everything I want to be is everything you’ve been to me.” Those words were true 30 years ago and they are true in my heart today.

My brother recently helped with the “after prom” party at his daughter’s high school dance. One of her friends came up to him and said, “Thank you Sir, for letting her come to this.” My brother smiled back. But the friend persisted. “No Sir, I really mean it. When my mom found out you were letting her go, then I got permission to go too.” My brother smiled and sent me a text and said, “I felt just like Mom.” He had learned from a master. We both did. And so in honor of her, in grateful appreciation for her and in her most awesome memory, I celebrate this Mother’s Day. I love you Mom. We miss you Granny. You were the best.

Some days, it’s all just too much!

Wed, 09 May 2012 15:42:29 -0400

Some days, it’s all just too much!

Parents Can Say No

Tue, 08 May 2012 11:49:37 -0400

Thank Goodness!

So proud of these parents who are able to say no to their toddler. Fun Story:

http://moms.today.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2012/04/27/11428418-crying-baseball-tots-mom-he-doesnt-get-everything-all-the-time?ocid=twitter

A World of Hurt

Mon, 07 May 2012 13:51:45 -0400

I saw a YouTube video yesterday of a child having a tantrum. No joke. A father recorded his child’s tantrum with his running conversation with her during the tantrum. I’m not sure of the point of his recording and I am less sure why he posted it on YouTube, but I am most unsure at the father’s response. He talked to his daughter in a sing song voice, as if it was Christmas morning, while she screamed and cried and threw herself on the floor, all because he asked her to take her bowl to the sink. She looked around 3 years old, fully capable to handle the task at hand. She also looked thoroughly angry and indignant that she had been asked to do it.

I’ll give him credit – he hung in there until she finally screamed her way to the counter and in anger threw the bowl in the sink, after which she continued to cry and throw herself on the floor, screaming that the bowl was too heavy. But he lost me when, in his sing song voice, he told her that she had done a good job. A good job? A good job? His daughter may have put the bowl in the sink, but only in outrage and anger and protest. Only in willful spite. Only with disrespect for her father and contempt for the request. In her heart was not obedience. In her heart and in her actions were rebellion and tyranny. A good job indeed.

And then later that same day, as I took my dog for our afternoon stroll around the mall, I got to watch what was, in essence, the same scene, all over again, live and in person. This was a mother and her son, who like this morning’s child, looked to be around 3 years old. Only this time the request was not a bowl in a sink, but something apparently equally outrageous and unreasonable. The mother told her son to get in the car. Yep, you heard it. Get in the car. And her son responded as if she had cut off his arms. In fact, his scream of protest was what caught my attention.

I looked up and he pushed the open car door closed and declared that he was not going home. And just like this morning, his mother, in her sing song voice, explained to him why they needed to go home. He continued to slam the car door shut, screaming in protest, while his mother continued to open the door and beg him to get in the car. He then ran out in the parking lot and she offered to give him a lollipop if he would get in the car. A lollipop? A lollipop? At that point I had to walk away. But he continued to scream as we continued away from him and the last time I looked back, he was lying on the ground, crying and kicking and flailing his arms.

I’m with Linus. If this is the shape of parenting today, and if this is a small picture of the shape of the adults that these kicking, screaming, crying children will one day be, then the shape of the world is in sorry shape. We may not settle for being average in their education, we may not settle for average in their skill sets, we may not settle for average in their college choices and careers, but it would appear that we are abundantly willing to settle for far less than average in their behavior and attitude. What’s to become of them and the world they will be expected to lead?

If we cannot muster the courage and fortitude to demand our children’s obedience and respect for ourselves, then we must, must, must do it for them. For their future. For the adults they will one day become. For the employee they will one day be. Because the world is not kind. Life is not fair. Difficult days are ahead and will require hard work and perseverance to weather through. Tragedy can strike any of us unaware and our children will not be exceptions. But how will they one day handle difficulty, when at age 3 they cannot take their bowl to the sink or get into a car without throwing a tantrum?

When my brother and I were young and would whine about “nothing,” my father would tell us, You had better stop crying before I give you something to cry about. Say no more. We straightened up. We took the high road. We may not have liked it, but we knew, without question, that the high road was much better than any alternative he might devise. And today, I think my brother would agree with me that we are grateful for his tough stand, because in the process, he taught us perspective. He taught us to consider something beyond ourselves. He taught us to toughen up.

And our kids are going to need to be tough. Because life is tough, and every time we give in to their tantrums and protests and complaints, we silently tell them that life is all about them, all about what they want, all about when they want it, all about how they want it. We leave them weak, self-absorbed and rebellious. And if those adjectives are indicators of the shape of the world to come, as my father would say, We are in a world of hurt.

Then and Now

Thu, 03 May 2012 09:57:00 -0400

If you are old enough, you will be familiar with the question, if you could go back and do it all again, what would you do differently? The question can be a dangerous one as it has the potential to send you into a downward spiral of regret. None of us can go back. What is in the past is in the past and cannot be undone. But there is no one who looks back without any remorse, so I think the question can also be a positive one, which allows us to see and accept and learn from the mistakes of the past. A question that can send us forward in the hope of not repeating those same mistakes in the future. A question that can reveal the lessons of age. A question that crafts insight and wisdom for the generation coming after us.

As a mom of four adult children that I continue to adore, I wish I had realized in their childhood that incredible good can come out of incredible bad. I wish I had recognized that the pursuit of perfection was a complete waste of time. I wish I had understood that hardship and challenge and even pain were actually opportunities for me and my children. Opportunities that made all of us the best of ourselves. Opportunities that made us strong. Opportunities that left us connected in an inexplicable way. I wish that I had known that the difficulties were a gift.

We always struggled financially as a family. Please know that our basic needs were always met, no one went to bed hungry, there was always a roof over our heads, and often our income afforded us generous gifts and aide to what would otherwise be out of the question. My children did not go lacking. But the financial struggle was nevertheless real, and often frightening and almost always stressful. And I often resented it. But I wish I had known then what I know now, because today I am ever thankful for those difficulties. Those difficulties produced gratitude in us. Those difficulties taught us to appreciate what many take for granted. Those difficulties created maturity, a strong work ethic, and depth of character in my children. Those difficulties grew them up. And I am pretty sure that my overwhelming love for my kids would have clouded my judgment and afforded them an unhealthy abundance, had the abundance of funds been available.

I wish I had taken better care of myself. I wish I had realized that I was a wife and mother and not a servant. I wish I had understood that I could sacrifice for my family without sacrificing myself. I did too much for my children. I had a good example in my mother, so I understood well that children need discipline with love, that children need to obey and respect their parents in particular and adults in general, that children require the unique combination of freedom and limits, work and play, education and discovery. But I did not learn the valuable lesson of self-care and in the process I took care of too much.

Most importantly, I wish I had fretted less and enjoyed more. I look back today and realize much of what I spent my time fretting about was not worthy of my fretting. And in the process of fretting, I lost valuable time enjoying. Self-imposed deadlines, self-assumed standards, self-assigned ideals – all were self-absorbing idols and wastes of time. All took joy out of the day and replaced it with unnecessary worry. All contributed nothing of any great value to my life and deducted from my happiness. All created a stress that was unnecessary. And all I regret.

And all of the above I say without self-condemnation. They are simply the mistakes of my past. They are the things I would do differently. And best of all they were the building blocks of my current happiness. And I offer them to you, the current generation of mothers in the trenches, because I know from experience that life can be tough enough without adding to it unnecessarily. Those hurdles and obstacles and difficulties that might be in your path are your friends, if you will see them that way. What you and your children have to overcome, with the right attitude, are the greatest of teachers. Do not run from them. Resist the temptation to fix them. Embrace them and allow them to do their work in you and in your family. And in the process, take time for yourself. Take care of yourself. And most assuredly if you are fretting – stop. Your fretting will add nothing to your life or the life of your family and will only take away your joy and pleasure. And here’s hoping that my life lessons will save one or two things from your if I had it all to do over list. Live freely!

Let Them Play!

Wed, 02 May 2012 09:52:47 -0400

Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly, boys gotta play!

Today's Mom

Tue, 01 May 2012 10:39:06 -0400

An interesting read for today’s mom and well worth its length. Again and again and again I am re-affirmed that it is who we are that raises our children, not what we do.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/04/24/elisabeth-badinter-the-conflict_n_1447675.html?ref=topbar&ncid=edlinkusaolp00000008

Love and Discipline

Mon, 30 Apr 2012 09:59:00 -0400

We do so much in this culture for the good of our children, and yet we fail to do the one thing that will accomplish the most good. We fail to discipline them. It is much akin to planting a garden, using the best soil and fertilizer and seed, and then never watering it. Without the water of discipline, the best of intentions and opportunities will fail to produce the seed of potential buried in your child. Discipline is necessary for life – all of life – and without that foundational element, children remain children, and there is nothing attractive or compelling or desirable about an immature adult child. And sadly, the adult child enters adulthood much past the time of natural maturation, with just the shell of age, unable to handle the complexities, the inequities, and the injustices that come with adult life. And all the best soil and fertilizer and seed is laid waste.

And yet this critical piece of the child rearing puzzle appears elusive to most parents. They are able to sacrifice time to get their children to any number of activities, lessons, practices, and instruction. They are able to sacrifice their finances to ensure that their children have the best education that money can buy, from pre-school to college. They are able to sacrifice their own needs as a couple and as individuals for the needs, both felt and real, of their children. Yet somehow the ability to discipline, to levy consequences, to assume leadership in the home and exhibit confidence in their authority, somehow that is a sacrifice too big to make. And ironically, it is the one sacrifice that will bring all the other sacrifices to maturity and fruition.

And so a story from my past that might help to illustrate. When my oldest son was in 8^th grade, the decision was made that he would go to a local military high school. Benedictine was close to our home and eventually all three of my sons graduated from here. My oldest son is artistic and creative and inventive. The school was chosen for a variety of reasons, but because of his creative nature, I experienced a lot of questions and push back when the choice was made to attend a military high school. He had never been a disciplinary problem, and somewhat introvert in nature and artistic – why oh why would we send him to a military high school?

Again, there were many reasons for the decision, but never was one of those reasons to “correct” any bad behavior or inability on his part. Nor was this seen as a place that would inhibit his natural creative spirit. Quite the opposite. The structure and the discipline he experienced at school actually encouraged the best in him. The organization of his day and routine provided for him the internal structure he was missing. He found a core group of good friends, he did well in academics, he excelled in art. And in the process, he learned (and these are his words, not mine) “not to take himself so seriously.”

Am I suggesting that everyone send their sons to military school? Not at all. But I am suggesting that all of us – at any age, with whatever our talents or giftedness – all of us need discipline in our lives to bring those abilities to realization. Lack of discipline has gotten a lot of businesses in deep financial trouble. Lack of discipline has gotten our government in a lot of trouble. Lack of discipline has gotten a lot of personal lives in trouble. Discipline and responsibility walk hand in hand, and without them, we may survive, but few truly thrive.

And lack of discipline will keep your child a child, regardless of his age. Consequences change attitudes and behavior. Restrictions and limits teach self-control and restraint. And whether we like it or not, pain and disappointment produce the fruit of maturity and the achievement of potential. There is a lot of value in a skinned knee, and the child who never skins his knees, never really grows up. Love and discipline are two sides of the same coin, and one without the other is a life out of balance. And you, dear parent, are the master gardener. You must discipline. You must say no. You must levy consequences. You must mean what you say and say what you mean. Anything less is just wasted seeds.

Of Apples and Apple Trees

Thu, 26 Apr 2012 12:58:38 -0400

On Monday on The Today Show, Matt Lauer interviewed Hugh Grant, who was there promoting his upcoming movie release. In the course of the interview, the two discussed Grant’s new baby and first child and the role of fatherhood. Matt asked Grant about his very public opinion of the giving of money to children and his desire to provide, but not indulge. Grant said, Money is demotivating to children, to anyone really, and I certainly do not plan to provide her (his daughter) with a trust fund at 18. Well said.

Then Matt asked the tough question. Acknowledging the obvious that this child would grow up in affluence, he asked Grant how he planned on handling that affluence with his daughter. Good question, and Grant’s response indicated that he was not completely sure how he would address that on a day to day level, saying that he would certainly provide for her needs, but not lavish her unnecessarily. A tough question indeed, and not just for Hugh Grant. It’s a tough question for all of us.

In this culture, many of us fall into the category of “affluent.” We may not have Hugh Grant affluence, but many of us live far above the poverty level. And although the range of income in the middle to upper class may be wide, the reality is, many of us live in a culture where our kids have optimal opportunities, including but not confined to good educations, pleasant housing, meals in restaurants, games, toys, electronics, vacations, camps, lessons, relevant clothing and abundant food choices. As compared with anyone living in true poverty, many of us are rich. So the tough question posed to Hugh Grant is our tough question too. How do we handle our “wealth” with our children?

And here’s the tough answer: we have to be able to handle it ourselves. We have to live it. We have to be it. The answer to many of our questions as parents is the same, because ultimately who we are, not what we do, raises our children. If we want them to be responsible, we need to live responsibly. If we want them to live within their means, we have to live within our means. If we want them to have integrity, they must see us live a life of integrity. On and on it goes. That expression the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree didn’t come out of thin air. A little observation produced the common truth.

The problem with money is that it has the unfortunate ability to mask the truth. Money is a good disguise and has the potential to cover a lot of mistakes and flaws – to our children and to ourselves. Money gives us the deceptive option of living above our consequences. And whenever that happens, everyone is susceptible to a false and unfortunately superior attitude and self-perception. Everyone. From the moderately successful to the extremely wealthy. Everyone.

None of us is very good at seeing ourselves clearly and often we wear our rose-colored glasses when viewing our children. And the availability of resources only deepens our ability to resolve the less than lovely consequences that often come with poor choices and bad decisions. We are able to eliminate the costs or at the very least soften the magnitude that can come from poor behavior – our own and our children’s. We can cover our sins, so to speak. And in the process, we cover the shame and pain that come with consequences. But pain and embarrassment are necessary teachers of improved behavior and better choices and without them, we and our children become the lesser of ourselves.

Again, a tough question without easy answers. These kinds of questions make being a parent hard, because these questions call the focus to be on us. So that means the next time you pull out your credit card, you have to ask yourself what you are teaching the children watching you. The next time you buy a car you don’t really need, or a bigger house when the one that you have is sufficient, or another, another, another, when what you have is already more than what you really need, you have to ask yourself what those eyes and ears that are taking in every move you make are really taking in. And the next time you choose to “fix,” or eliminate consequences, either your own or your child’s, you have to wonder if you are really helping, or hurting, yourself and your family. Tough questions require tough – and honest – answers, as the answer can go a long way in determining where the apples will land.

Table Manners for the Very Young.

Wed, 25 Apr 2012 12:37:19 -0400

Table Manners for the Very Young.:

Looking for some simple ideas for instilling table manners in the very young? Read Charity Curley Mathews suggestions in this Huffington Blog post. A good read.