Why I am the Boss of You

My daughter’s 8 and she’s pretty awesome. Although, I am biased, I realize this…but she is.  Except for the other day when she was about to go outside to play in her travel soccer team shirt and school approved pants and I said, “You can’t wear that out to play,” and she gave me her nastiest, angry look and snarled, “You’re not the boss of me. You can’t tell me what to do.”

At that point, I started to laugh and said, “Oh yes, yes I am. I am the boss of you right now because I work hard to pay for the clothes you are wearing and potentially ruining outside to play and I will be the same boss who will have to buy you new clothes to replace the ones you ruin, which I’m not okay with so it’s not happening.  You have designated play clothes and those are the clothes you will wear if you’d like to go outside to play.” At this point, she stormed off to change, disgusted with me and my rules and the control she wished I didn’t have over her life and her choices.  Bummer.

But I am the boss right now and I don’t apologize for that.  It’s my house, and my stuff and I work hard to pay for it (along with my husband, don’t mean to leave him out). And although I am a firm believer in allowing kids to make decisions for themselves and offering them options, I am not okay with allowing their decisions to control my life in ways I have influence over.  In this case, replacing things that will get ruined unnecessarily. And yes, my kids play hard, so their stuff gets ruined. I love that.

I work with big kids. Teenagers. They know everything and can do whatever they want.  Some of them skip school and their parents say, “I can’t control them and make them go to school.” No, no you can’t, but you can control their surroundings and the stuff they think they own in your house.  They watch your television, use your computer, use your wireless router for their phone, use your toilet paper (thank goodness) and eat the food you bought with your money.  It’s yours.  They have the luxury of using it.  Except maybe the toilet paper, taking that away would probably be wrong.  But, you are still the boss in your household when it comes to your stuff.

We need consequences to determine which of our behaviors work for us and which ones don’t.  The more positive the outcome, the more likely we will continue that behavior.  The more negative the consequences, the bigger the deterrent to continue. We need to feel the pinch of discomfort in order to encourage us to change.

Life is full of consequences and when better to learn that than when the consequences aren’t that bad.  You forget your homework, you get a bad grade. Not life altering, but potentially motivating.  You eat candy without permission, you lose it for a week. There’s always more candy. You say something mean to someone, they don’t want to hang out with you anymore. You apologize and hope for the best.  You tell off your mother, you have no social life for two weeks. Two weeks will feel long, but you’ll leave your house again, and maybe even think before you speak.  Or…You kill someone, you go to jail and are shunned from society.  Probably locked up for a long, long time.  You meet new friends in jail, you say something mean to them, they cut your ear off when you least expect it. Consequences. They are real.

So, the bottom line. I will not allow my daughter to wear her soccer shirt out to play in order to keep her out of prison and keep her cute little ears.  This time, she changed her clothes, she had a great time outside and the next time, she’ll think twice about what she wears…hopefully. And although I want her to make her own decisions, I want to best guide and influence her how to make those decisions work for her while she is still under my roof, and for me.

So I will continue to let her know that I am the boss of her and I will pay her a good salary of unrivaled love, unlimited respect and valuable life knowledge.  And that includes helping her see the consequences of her actions and how they impact her and those around her.  And soon enough, she will live the entrepreneurial life she desires when she becomes her own boss. And if I play my cards right, maybe she’ll even invite me to take your mom to work day.

The Elf on the Shelf who Mocks Me

I wrote this at 4:30 a.m. while debating whether or not to get up for the third day in a row.  I felt it was best to share.

I love my traditions,

I’ve said so before.

But some “great ideas,”

I’ve learned to abhor.

The Elf on the Shelf,

His cute little face,

Seems to silently mock me,

In his new hiding place.

He knows I won’t remember,

How do I always forget?

Until 4 in the morning,

When I start to fret.

“Oh crap! Did I move him?”

“Where did he hide?”

I lie in bed awake,

My eyes open wide.

You may not speak little Elf,

But I hear what you say,

“Why start a tradition,

That brings angst every day?”

I swear someone told me,

That this would be fun.

If only I could remember,

I’d know who to shun.

At 6 a.m, my reminder,

Comes barreling down the stairs,

“Did you find him?” he questions,

With wide open stares.

“I haven’t, he’s sneaky,”

I always seem to say.

Little does he know, the Elf’s stealthness,

Is limited each day.

The joyful squeals of “I found him!”

And the giggles that follow,

Turns the lack of sleep and frustration,

Into discomfort I can swallow.

Congratulations Elf,

You can stay another night,

The tradition just won’t die,

Even if it really bites.

For those who don’t know the Elf on the Shelf tradition, the idea is a little adopted Elf watches your kids every day and reports back to Santa each night with tales of how good or bad they were. Then he hides somewhere in the house to be found the next day. Please note: my kids’ behaviors have not made any adjustments with his presence making the 4 a.m. reminders of his job not so pleasant.

The Little Boy That Could…if you let him try

“He’s only five.” This is what we say when we want to excuse our son’s behavior or give him credit for saying something brilliant.  He’s only five.  Some days it means that it’s not his fault that he is a wild little beast who sprints through the store acting like he snorted pixie sticks on his way in with absolutely no impulse control.  Other days it means that he is a genius with the perfectly timed hilarious statements that come out of his mouth.  Our expectations of what he can/should be doing at his age are largely determined by our sense of his development.  In truth, we have no idea of what he should or should not be capable of. So what do we do? Experiment.

You never really know what your kid can handle until you let them try.  A few weeks ago, I requested that my son attend his special education meeting to discuss his progress and in this case, how well he was doing.  It was clear to me that he was the first five year old in my town’s district who was ever asked to attend this formal, legal meeting on his behalf. When I told my husband I wanted my son at the meeting, he said, “He’s only five.”  In my mind, he is five, enrolled in school and now responsible for being an active part of his education. He should be a part of the discussion about him and how he’s doing, and if he has an opinion about what is happening to him, to share it.  My husband felt he was too young to be involved.  We disagreed on his level of responsibility and developmental appropriateness.  Because I’m a bit pushy, and I had already called the school and had him invited, he went.  It was an experiment. And it was fantastic.  He was nervous and sat very close to me not knowing what to expect.  The school staff spoke to him directly and asked him questions and he was an equal part of the meeting. He heard them say wonderful things about him and how well he had progressed and that his hard work paid off.  It could not have been more perfect.  And now I knew, he absolutely was ready to be part of his own life and the decisions made for and about him when it came to his education.

Fast forward to last week when my son broke down crying one night out of nowhere saying he didn’t understand why everyone had to die.  “It never ends! It doesn’t make sense! Everyone is born, gets old and dies!” Nothing had happened, no one we knew had died. But he said every time he drives by a cemetery, he thinks about death and it makes him sad to know that everyone will eventually go. He wanted answers. He wanted to understand.  And he wanted to know why God never answers him when he talks to him.  And I thought, “He’s only five.” He shouldn’t be thinking about life’s fragility and the downer of knowing there’s an end to everything.  He should be climbing trees and jumping from high places, taking risks for fun and plotting out how’s he’s going to sneak a piece of the Halloween candy his mom thinks she’s cleverly hidden.  I wanted him to just ignore his worries and be a carefree kid, but he was asking for grown up answers and he wasn’t letting it go.  So we snuggled on the couch and tried another experiment.  I asked him what he thought happens when we die and then filled him on what I believe.  I explained the law of the conservation of energy and how energy can never die and how we are all made of energy.  He asked more questions and I simplified as much as a could, but gave him the details he wanted.  Once I confirmed that “God” could be up his nose, he was grossed out, we laughed and the conversation ended.  Another successful experiment…I think.

As I’m sure you realize and have experienced, the experiments don’t always work out.  I’ve got a 70/30 success rate, so I’m feeling good this week.  The clothes he picks out for himself confirms his lack of fashion sense and the way he puts his clean clothes away makes it not worth folding them, but he’s slowly getting it.

Sometimes the limitations we choose for our children in order to protect them are actually making them even more limited.  The more we shelter them from trying to do things on their own, handle situations or think for themselves (with our voices guiding them along the way in their head), the more dependent they will be on us and need us for much, much longer.  The more we experiment and let them try to do things on their own, use their own voice or expose them to reality, the more independent and self confident they will become.

Sometimes being “only five,” qualifies my kid to be a young and independent genius, and other days it qualifies him to get in for free at the museum because somebody decided he’s too young to appreciate the art. But the reality is, I never know which five year old he’ll be unless I give him the chance to prove what he can do, and keep him away from the pixie sticks.

Redemption

Each year my friend and I co-facilitate an intense anti bullying program at the high school we work in.  It is by far one of my favorite programs I am a part of because of its depth, power and perspective changing potential.  After hours of training, a handful of students are chosen to share their personal stories as the victim of bullying, the bystander or the bully to an entire class of the student body.  The victim stories are notoriously heart wrenching and motivate others to share their stories when given the opportunity.  It is indeed a powerful experience and eye opening to what today’s youth are dealing with when no one else is looking and when everyone is looking.  This year’s group of upperclassmen who shared their stories were incredibly strong and amazing, but the one I held on to the most was the story of the “bully.” A young man who chose to identify his wrongs and make them right.  I loved it so much I wanted to share it with you as an example of how some of today’s adolescents are seeing the world and what they are doing about it. This is what this brave young man nervously shared with almost 400 hundred members of his school community.

“A wise woman once told me “It is equally important to know when you are doing the wrong things in life as it is to know when you are doing the right things, so you can determine the difference.” When it comes to bullying I’ve been on both ends of the spectrum, the bully and the victim, both of which make you feel horrible.

From the beginning of eighth grade: whether it was picking on other kids to feel cool or just because I didn’t like how they were, what they looked like, who they hung out with, what race they were, or even what their sexuality was, I had absolutely no fear of being a bully to kids.

Then high school came and it was freshmen year, and I was instantly intimidated. There were kids double my size, with absolutely no fear of pushing me around calling me all types of names, threatening me and just being a mean upperclassmen to a freshmen. When it came to the kids in my grade, still I had absolutely no fear, of what my words and actions meant to them. I was a freshman punk, fifteen years old and thinking I was the man just because I was in high school.

It was third period English class, I walked in like I was the man, the same as I do everyday, and there was this one kid, who I never talked to before in my entire life, a kid who has never done me wrong and a kid who was considered to be “different” then everyone else because of who he is and that he is gay. When I first heard that he was gay I was appalled. A teenager who was gay! No way could this be real right now, and the worst part was that I thought it was hilarious. I never really accepted the fact of people being gay at this point in my life even though I have an uncle who is gay. This shows just how shallow I really was at this point in my life. I instantly despised people who were gay because my mindset was that being gay wasn’t even an option, and now that I knew that he’s gay there was no way I could ever be associated with him; I mean he’s gay, so me being friends with him would make me gay right? Well it doesn’t, but being that young and immature in life I didn’t know what to do so I resorted to what I was best at, being an asshole. Almost everyday for the whole year, third period English class was war.

Any time he would talk, anytime he would do something I would try to attack him and make him feel horrible about himself. I was bullying some kid that I never knew before this year because of one lifestyle difference between the two of us. He and I would argue about anything. If he would talk I’d say to him, “shut the hell up”, and if I wasn’t proving to him that I didn’t care for him, I was making it very obvious to others around me. I’d say to my other friends “what a faggot” or make fun of the fact that he was gay and say things like “oh yeah homo” and I remember saying things like this to his face. I’ve said phrases that no one should ever say to another person.  Even with the fact of a jerk like me harassing him all the time because of one difference, he would still try to respond and come back at me to show me that he wasn’t being affected by it, and that angered me. All I wanted to do was to make him feel like hell, why wouldn’t he? Because he’s stronger then me mentally and emotionally, because he was frustrated with the fact that people would judge him just because of his sexuality. I would attempt to say something to him just to get him so upset to the point where he wouldn’t want to talk to me because I said something that hurtful or mean or frustrating to him.

Now I look back at eighth grade through sophomore year and I look at how I’ve grown now and reliving that and how I treated him along with others makes me feel like a horrible person. It makes me feel like I don’t deserve respect because I didn’t give kids any respect at all in those three years. It makes me realize how pathetic of a person I was and to be honest, people really have to try to make someone feel that horrible about themselves just because of one difference between him and I. I live with the guilt now of knowing I was this much of an asshole to this one kid just so I could ruin his day to make mine but I failed every day at that one task, the one task that I thrived at. There is absolutely nothing worse then living with this, then dealing with the fact that every time I see him in the hall I want to apologize but I’m way to scared to because I don’t know what he thinks of me. I deal with the fact that I actually have to hold back my emotions when I see him because I regret everything I’ve ever said to him or done to him and I am honestly embarrassed with how I was as a person. Who you’re attracted to isn’t something a person can control and it’s something we have to accept and respect. Whether your being the bully or being bullied the end result is something you won’t like. I know for a fact that some people who have been bullied walk away feeling like a completely worthless person and I also know that while being the bully, I felt an instant guilt afterwards, which feels endless to this day. I was a freshman then and I am a junior now and even now it makes me emotional just thinking about how I treated all the kids that I know. As I said before, “It is equally important to know when you are doing the wrong things in life as it is to know when you are doing the right things so you can determine the difference.” The only difference between the two is that to do the right thing and to honestly know what it is takes way more courage and strength as a person then it does to do the wrong thing. I have come to realize what the right things are in life but it took maturity to help realize what they are.

Not a single person here likes to be bullied or be talked down to, so why do it to others? Why do what affects you and makes you feel horrible about yourself to others. If its to be cool, your not. If its cause you have a problem with something about someone else, get over it, you can’t change other people to meet your standards. You have to accept people for who they are and their effort they make in life to be the best they can and to be just like every other teenager, happy.

I know I am not the most perfect person in life, and I know I’ve messed up way more than once and I am not looking for people to feel bad for me. I am looking for people to learn from the mistakes that I made and to not make them. But what I’m also looking for is a second chance from anyone that I’ve inflicted pain to. These mistakes I’ve made, I am not happy about and I am sure as hell not proud of it, but what I am proud of is the fact that its made me into the person that I am today and its helped me come to realize that bullying is an issue not just in our school but every where. No matter what negative thing you say to someone, it will affect them and it definitely should affect your view on yourself. Last year at Power of Words I came up to the open mic and  I apologized to everyone that I’ve ever treated poorly but I don’t think anyone understood the sincerity and the importance of the message I was trying to convey. I messed up and I was an ass, we all know this, but I am growing as a person and I realize that I have wronged many of you as well as others, so I am here to ask others not to make these mistakes and to realize that the power of your words truly do have an affect on others. Lastly, to everyone here, and anyone I’ve ever hurt, I am honestly sorry from the bottom of my heart and I hope everyone knows that I am striving to become the best that I can be.”

The Puppet Master

Do you sometimes find yourself trying to control every movement your child makes, the words that come out of their mouth and how they are said? Do you expect them to do exactly as you say and become exasperated when they don’t follow your lead?  Wouldn’t it be easier to raise a puppet that you could control?

The most valuable lesson I’ve learned as a school counselor is that I have no control over my students’ behavior.  The most difficult lesson I’ve learned as a parent is that I have no control over my children’s behavior.

It’s quite a concept.

Once they make their way into our world as newborns, we are in control of what they eat and how often they eat, but not how often they cry to let us know they are hungry.  We are in control of how much we change their diaper, but not how much they soil it.  When they are toddlers, we are in control of their nap time, but not if they actually sleep. We are in control of taking them out of situations when they are throwing a temper tantrum, but not if they have one or not.  When they are in school, we encourage them to consistently participate, do their homework and appreciate the value of education, but we do not control whether they actually do it.

We do our best to manipulate the situations, taking things away, offering solutions, creating rules and boundaries, all of which are imperative, but we do not control whether or not they respond to our manipulation and consequences, no matter how well crafted they may be.

The worst part is when they discover that they are in control and we’re not ready to give up our puppeteer gig.  For me, my first lesson was potty training. It was torture.  Both my kids were two when they started and both kids were three when they ended.  I had an agenda and for some reason (my guess is two years of built up resentment of me trying to control them), they did not adhere to my expectations.  I would say go, they would say no.  They went on the potty when they wanted to and didn’t when they didn’t.  We tried EVERYTHING to manipulate them, read all the books, tried all the tactics and then when they decided they were ready, on their terms, they were officially “trained.” I remember being at my wits end with my daughter and going to visit my grandmother and saying to her, “Well, Grammie Button does not allow diapers in her house, so you will have to wear underwear and she does not allow pee on her floor.”  She replied “okay” and that was it.  No accidents, no problems, no pee outside the potty.  She respected her great grandmother and wanted to please her and that was enough to change her behavior.  How I had wished I had tried that tactic earlier! But it wasn’t for me to control, it was for me to offer opportunities for her to decide what worked for her.

I counsel parents in my job equally as much as their children.  The most typical concern I hear is that they can not control their child’s motivation to do school work and are looking for ways to “make” them do what they want them to do.  I used my potty training woes to let them know I could relate. They used to laugh, but really, the issues were the same.  We expect a certain behavior or reaction from our children and when we don’t get it, we question everything we are doing wrong and relentlessly try to find ways to control our children to respond in a way we are comfortable with.

We have the illusion of control and for a long time, most of them buy into this illusion, until one day they discover the truth that they are in fact in control of what they do, think and say.  Sometimes they embrace this reality in a way we want them to and sometimes they throw this reality back in our faces and torment us.

And here’s the hardest part, we are frustrated by our inability to control them, yet isn’t independence the end goal?  Do we want our children to feel controlled by those around them, rely on others to think for them, respond for them and tell them what to do or do we want our children to think independently, question their influences and be in control of their own lives?  The puppet strings are attached to help support them in the beginning, but need to be cut so they can walk on their own.

Personally, I want to direct my children’s thoughts, feelings and actions up until the point that they have “perfected” the way I want them to react to life and then I will set them free and let them live on their own.  Probably age 25 or so.  But since, I’m pretty sure they are going to discover their personal freedom well before then, I am trying to really hard to accept this reality.

So if we don’t have control, what do we have? The simple answer…Faith.

Faith that we are doing what we can to teach our children what works.  Faith that they will make decisions that benefit them and keep them healthy, safe and happy.  Faith that when something doesn’t work for them, they will learn what does, with or without our support.  The more we lack faith, the more we want to control. The more we try to control what we can not, the more frustrated we become.  And the cycle continues.

But faith we can do. We may have to practice to recognize it, but we live it everyday. Its part of our life’s show.  We can control our own strings and our own performance, with the intent of  influencing our audience along the way, but we have to believe without knowing that their will be another night to perform and they will always come back for more.

Q&A My Perspective: Watch What You Text

QUESTION

I love your website and greatly respect your perspective.  You seem very down-to-earth and authentic.

I have a fourteen year old daughter who has a cell phone.  I recently took the phone away to discipline her for misuse of the device (she sent a nasty text to me when she meant to send it to a friend.  The text was a very unflattering description of me).  When I asked my daughter for the password to her cell, she refused to give it to me, saying that her friends’ texts were private and that I had no business reading them.

I am well aware that the cell phone is a privilege, one that I am free to take away from my daughter.  I currently have the phone and have said that I will return it when she gives the password to me.  I have no desire to read the “received” texts from her friends, but I feel that at times, I need to go through her “sent” texts to make certain that she does not send nasty texts again (at least any time soon).

What is your perspective on this?  I know that I cannot control everything that my daughter thinks or says.  However, I refuse to pay for the privilege, as in the case with her cell phone.  Help!

MY PERSPECTIVE

I too, have sent texts mistakenly to others saying not so flattering things about them (my husband–oops), so I can relate to your daughter. Hopefully, she learned her lesson on that one, (I know I did) and thankfully I pay the cell phone bill so my husband couldn’t confiscate mine.

Here’s the bottom line. Yes, she has a right to want to protect her friends privacy and she can by deleting her texts from them and to them.  I would suggest you give her back the phone to do that and have her erase them in front of you.  I would then establish the ground rules of use.  You are paying the bill, therefore the phone is technically yours and as you said, you are giving her the privilege of using it.

Since she has the privilege of using your phone, just like living in your house, she will need to follow the rules of use.  If those rules include not texting mean things about you, so be it.  And until she has proven that she can follow the rules, she needs to give you the password and know that you will have the ability to check her phone at any time.  She will probably want to let her friends know this as well.  However, if she’s savvy, she could also just delete any incoming or outgoing texts she doesn’t want to be seen, so you are right, you don’t have control over everything she does. But you can make her think twice about what she’s saying and who she’s saying it to. Until she has proven that she can follow the rules, she can consider her phone use, borrowed time.

Lessons of Vegetarianism and Other Strange Events

Last weekend I was excited to write about my family’s adventure going vegetarian for two weeks.  I get bored easily and like to try new things and thought vegetarianism would be a great introduction to my children eating different foods and a change of pace for us. The first week was great and we really liked the variety and trying new recipes.  The first weekend, we went to a Halloween Party and the kids drooled over the chicken wings and meatballs they normally would devour.  But they were fantastic, didn’t complain and stuck with the non meat menu.

Then came Sunday, one week in. A freak, fall New England snow storm dumped half a foot of heavy, wet snow over our foliage laden trees causing many of them to break and fall and take out many power lines and block roads.  We lost our power after happily filling our bellies with hot, whole wheat apple pancakes.  I thought for sure it would be an hour, maybe two that we’d get our power back.  News reports claimed otherwise.  It could be up to a week or more before our power would be restored and it was going to be record lows at night.  Did I jinx us with my boredom and wanting a change of pace?

Suddenly vegetarianism didn’t seem so promising with pounds of chicken and ground turkey defrosting in my freezer. Our wonderful friends in town offered to let us stay at their home since they had power and heat and I made a big vegetarian chili to start us off. Our children were happy to spend time with their friends and have sleepovers and no school.  We were happy to have a warm place to stay with those we felt close to and worked well with as families.

When Halloween was cancelled due to the outage and dangerous road conditions, the kids were disappointed for about 30 seconds and were over it knowing that the night would be rescheduled.  Rescheduled Halloween, unbelievable.  Childhood memories altered by natural disaster, yet filled with the warmth of friends and generosity.

A few days in, a super generous friend offered to let us use her generator.  I couldn’t wait to get back to my house.  During the day when I’d go back to pick up clothes and necessities, it felt so strange to walk through our abandoned house, so cold and unlived in.  I never realized how much a family makes a home until then. It is not our dwelling which keeps us together as a family, it is our presence. Together we make a home, wherever we are. Yet we had invested so much in that space, we were drawn there and wanted to be back in it.

When we returned to our house and camped out in the living room by the fire and electric heater, I felt secure to be in one place with my children sleeping on the floor, one television we had to share and agree on and playing Go Fish with my son.  Without other distractions, I really listened to my son’s jokes. He is so funny.  And was pleased to hear my daughter say she was glad to be home. I was just glad to be together.

Two nights of camping in the living room and waking to a cold house and strategic planning to get through the morning, lead to two more nights of sleepovers at my parents when their power returned.  The second night was a rescheduled trick or treating at my aunt and uncle’s house with our cousins. It was great to finally enjoy our tradition, getting dressed up and waiting till just the right time to go out only to discover that no one in the neighborhood knew it was the night we’d be showing up!  Those who came to their doors were amazingly gracious and the kids were unfazed by the fact that they were the lone trick or treaters.  Tradition continues and we will have years to laugh at the night when we made our own Halloween!

My kids never asked to eat meat like their friends during the week we lived one moment to the next.  They seemed to take pride in being vegetarians for the short while.  It was me who broke down first and felt I could not go one more day without buffalo chicken wings, my staple comfort food. The spicy chicken wing has power over me like no other.  However, when I suggested that we give it another shot another time, they looked at me like I had officially lost it. I just may have.

I started this week thinking about how much I appreciated food and options and having the freedom to eat what I want.  I ended the week appreciating the kindness and selflessness of friends, family and neighbors, of electricity, of heat and hot water, of cell phones and staying connected with friends, of wine and laughter, and of those wonderful and flexible people who allowed my children to have a Halloween.

As frustrating as many of the moments were, I worked hard to relish in my thankfulness and gratitude for what I did have and not focus on what I didn’t.  We are a lucky family.  My children are so fortunate to have food on their plates, meat or no meat, friends by their sides and people who love them and make sure they are taken care of.  This is what I learned on our vegetarian stint and I hope they remember it the same way.  And when I get bored again and propose my next lifestyle change, I hope they remind me that filling the space doesn’t always get me what I’m looking for.  Sometimes it gives me a whole lot more.

Learn by Doing…and Screwing Up

Every day when I greet my children after school, I ask the age old question, “How was school?” and I get the age old response, “Good.” No more, no less.  Real meaningful stuff.  So when my daughter came home from school one day and burst into tears before I could get the words out, I wasn’t really prepared.

Instead of our normal emotionless exchange, she began to tell me how she got in trouble in school and how her teacher pulled her aside to let her know that some of the kids in her class were reporting that she was being unkind to them.  And by unkind, I mean blatantly hurting their feelings repeatedly to the point that they went home and told their parents, who in turn called her teacher to share their concerns.  Oh boy.

As she sat and cried, awaiting my words of disapproval, I interrupted her and told her how glad I was that she was crying.  She gave me quite the look.  I told her that I was so glad to see her upset because now I knew she was learning how awful it feels to hurt someone else and be called out on it.  I told her how I have often tried to explain to her how important it is to notice how you are feeling when words come out of your mouth and when you know if you’ve made someone feel good or feel bad.  I had said it a million times and she nodded her head a million more to quiet me down. But now, it was happening, she was learning from her mistakes.  I was glad she was upset, relieved really.  She had a conscience and she was experiencing natural consequences to her actions and words.  The downside? Someone else had to get hurt for her to learn her lesson.

It turns out, my daughter’s filter is underdeveloped.  She is a quick thinker and says what she is thinking while she is thinking it.  A genetic trait it seems, and one I can greatly relate to, which I am sure I have modeled at times.  I have spent hours with my children discussing how to speak with kindness, how to defend yourself when someone hurts your feelings and how to stick up for those who don’t stick up for themselves.  I’ve role played and given multiple examples of various scenarios, but none of them featured holding back on saying what you are thinking until you can process the repercussions of your words.

After talking to her teacher and learning the extent of the other children’s hurt, I immediately wanted to call the other children’s parents, apologize for my daughter’s behavior and explain that she is indeed, a very kind and thoughtful child.  I wanted to control how they viewed her and us, because we often consider our children a reflection of ourselves.  Yet, I knew the ultimate goal was for my daughter to learn from her mistake on her own and it was her responsibility.  If she was mature enough to inappropriately hurt other people and feel sorry about it, she was mature enough to respond appropriately in the clean up.  I would walk her through it, but she would have to follow through and live with the repercussions.

It hurts to watch your child make mistakes and pay for them.  And the greater the wounds, the higher the price and our accompanying pain.  But I do believe it is important for them to figure it out with our support.  And I really do feel that experience is the best education.  I’ve always taught my children my belief that there is no such thing as a bad person, there is only bad behavior, so choose your behaviors wisely. (Except maybe mass murderers, they are pretty unimpressive.)

As an adult, I am still learning this lesson and anticipate it will not end.  The more I learn, the better my choices will be, as a parent, spouse, friend and whatever other roles I play. The less I judge, the less I will feel judged. And the more open I can be to educating my own children through what I know to be true from my own experience, as I hold their hand when they walk through their own.

Q&A My Perspective- It Takes a Village

QUESTION

“Ok, so, one of your child’s church friends, neighbor and school bus seat buddy shares one night before bed her “secrets” with your daughter of 13 yo. Choice topics are shared such as her having the desire to watch porn and have sweet feelings toward others of the same sex.  Previously, she has admitted to “cutting” and enjoys dressing in fish net stockings, immulating “EMO” for the sake of looking goth and often struggles with aggression, such as physical contact with your daughter and others. At one point, the cutting was brought to the school counselors attention but denied that it was a cat scratch, making your daughter look non-credible.  This young lady strives to appear wholesome and innocent in public. She does carry a history of school and church disruption but “appeared” to look like she has redeemed herself.
So, would you suggest to approach the parent, school counselor and or pastor? if so, with what approach and with whom first?  Would driving her to school to avoid the bus encounters help or changing time services at church to avoid the contact? Not sure if abandoning this kid is the answer and with this sort of behavior sounds like a scream for help??” – Mom Who Wants to Help

MY PERSPECTIVE

Such a great question! It is in my opinion that it takes a village to raise a child, but it is also important to be respectful of the villagers and not every villager cares to have their child raised by someone else.

Our first priority in our village is our own child. In this situation, open communication between parent and child is imperative.  We want our children to feel safe to talk openly with us about any concerns they have for their friends.  At age 13, especially girls, teenagers tend to be very protective of their friends, so any inkling of perceived judgment from us can quickly make them retreat and clam up.  Once we have our child’s trust and are engaged in a good dialogue, we can begin to share our own concerns about behaviors that make us feel uncomfortable and why.  If the friend is choosing behaviors we know can lead to a negative consequence, we can explain this to our child so they can start to understand the cause and effect of our concerns.  Under our guidance, walking beside a friend in need can be a great learning experience for our child.  With that said, if your child starts to exhibit the same behaviors and you feel their friends influence is stronger than your own, its time to pull the plug on time spent with the child under your control, such as time spent at your house or events with the other child.

As for the other village child, it is equally important to address our concerns for other children, as we are all in this big, crazy and wonderful world together.  Sexual feelings and curiosity is par for the course for adolescent development, as is experimentation…even if it is terrifying to think about and certainly presents some significant risks of its own.  Not to mention that today’s children seem to be far more advanced in their forms of self expression than generations prior. But “cutting” and any other form of self injury is not.

In this situation, the child’s parent is always the best place to start, depending on your relationship with the other parent. They are responsible for their child and their well being and should be notified of the concerns, especially in a situation where the child is harming themselves.  If you are not in a position where you feel comfortable talking to the other parent, use the school counselor or pastor as a vehicle for communicating with the parent and helping the child.  They can also assist the family with resources to further aid the child. If you feel the counselor is not responsive to the concern, feel free to call someone else at the school and ask that the parent be contacted.  This is normal protocol with self injurious behavior, so it’s not like you are asking for something unusual. It sounds like this particular child is in need of attention and will continue these behaviors until they have a reason not to or have found another behavior to replace it, which could go either way.  And it sounds like you have a child who is open to help, as are you.  Which to me means, this child is very fortunate to be living in your village.

Festivus for the Rest of Us

As I was filling out the religious exemption form for immunizations, so my son would be able to attend kindergarten, I wondered which formalized religion I was following to “ethically” do this.  I sent a text to a few of my super smart friends and asked what the name of my religion was.  The most immediate response came from my brilliant friend, Bevin.

“Festivus!”

Of course!! Festivus for the Rest of Us. Thank you, yet again, Seinfeld (and Bevin) for putting the rules of society into perspective.

I am not at all against immunizations, but I am against someone else telling me what I am lawfully bound to put into my child’s body.  I am a very health conscious person who monitored what was going into my child’s body in utero and after birth, right up until he went on his first play date.  I breastfed and made my children’s baby food so I knew exactly what they were ingesting.  Good nutrition and their health has always been a priority to me.

I am aware that immunizations are wonderful and have helped protect many from contracting awful diseases and illnesses.  We are fortunate to have them available to us in our country. We are also fortunate to have freedom of choice, which to me means I get to choose if and when my child is immunized.  And by the way, I do immunize my children, just not with every one, nor on the same pre established developmental time table.

Although I do not own a Festivus pole, I most certainly have participated in the Airing of Grievances, perhaps more than is required.  When it comes to protecting my family, I plan to win the Feats of Strength every time. (You really need to be a Seinfeld fan to appreciate this) But more importantly, I have firm and valuable personal beliefs which don’t fit into one particular formalized religion.  Does this make my secular viewpoint unimportant or unworthy of being recognized? Of course not. We all have a right to feed our beliefs with passion, especially when their intent is to help, serve or protect others.

How I choose to raise and protect my children is my religion.  It is my belief system in which I have strong faith that I am on the path of what is right and true for me.  As with every religion, I will be judged for what I do and what I don’t do and for what I believe and what I don’t believe and that’s okay.  I am perfectly content to own my thoughts, feelings and actions and know that what I believe in works for me.  And if I find that something is not working, I will assess and regroup and search for the next belief that fits my mold, because I can.

My son is now happily enjoying kindergarten and I am happy that Festivus allowed us the freedom to ensure his right to attend public school.  I can only hope his kindergarten teacher feels the same…