parenting styles 101

I havn't posted here for a long time. What can I say? I have a third-grader--and, as I learned from teaching, third grade is a bit of a by-year--and a kindergartner. Well, it was. This kid goes to a school that's teaching a full year ahead of what I taught at the start of my career, so there's that. But in general, both kids are thriving (meaning we laugh, we argue, we cry, we fuss over homework, we go to the doctor, have dinner, and do it all over again the next week).

I live in the heart of Boulder County, which is probably no more judgemental than the rest of the country, but might be judgmental in different ways. I, for instance, might come off as pretentious because of my jewelry. Not my car--never my 9 year old jeep, but maybe my house(s), though. I dress well--kind of a skater style, but that's just me. I can throw down Nordstrom with the best of 'em. I color my hair. My kids are not only clean, but well-turned out. I shave. The list goes on. Now, I say that if you LOOK at me, these are the things you see. You might make certain assumptions about me by the way I present myself. You might make certain assumptions about me as a parent. You might be right. You might be wrong.

I've seen my fair share of whiny kiddos in my lifetime (40 years of life; 9 years of parenting). Poorly adjusted, spoiled, whatever. Some of them slept with their parents (waking them at all hours for years on end), were worn in a sling, and were breastfed until they were old enough to say the word "breast". Some of them were raised according to Babywise and John Rosemond's theories. Some of them have fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants parents. Point is, you can't make a judgement about how people raise their kids--if it's right for the kid. I know from teaching that different kids require different styles. People learn in different ways. (There's a learning quadrant, in fact, and everyone falls somewhere on it).

My eldest needs sleep and food above all else. Give him twelve hours of sleep, four squares, and an hour of hard exercise a day, he is a freaking angel. When he's grumpy, moody, whiny or argumentative (often, because I freaking can't afford to feed the kid enough) ignoring does not work. He has stamina well past ours and yours, trust me.

First I try a joke. It works 25% of the time. Then I must assert, aggressively, my authority over him. Often the only way to shut him down is to be just outright mean. His strong personality demands I set a boundary rigorously. Do I get dirty looks from "attachment theory" parents? Fuck, I live in Boulder County. Does the accordian player wear a pinky ring? But meet my son. Talk to him. He's loving, articulate, socially aware, interested. Yeah, in you. He's not perfect, but I've never heard the term "poorly adjusted" come up about him. And we did Babywise with him. He started sleeping all night (8 hours) at 8 weeks and never looked back.

My youngest is driven by her need to create. No Babywise for her. She didn't sleep well as a baby in fact, only just started to sleep with school. (But she sure as fuck never had insomnia in our bed--my husband and I value our relationship with each other too much.) The first thing she does upon arising is come say hi to me and her dad, and then we find her at her art table. EVERY MORNING. She's brilliant with interpersonal relationships. She's just got it, socially, from an early age.

She's fairly even-keel, but if she cries, look out! there is no shutting her down. There is no joking her out of it. There is no shouting her out of it. She doesn't cry often (well, once a day--she's 6 after all and being 6 is some serious shit) but when she does, there is no way to stop it. We have to walk away. (Or carry her, kicking and screaming, to her room.) Being mean simply doesn't work; silent absence does. Usually within a matter of five minutes. Some people think we should try to talk her down. Uh huh. More power to you if it works with your kid.

But meet my daughter. Talk to her. She's stubborn as hell, but friendly and happy. Rather like my son, in that regard.

Two radically different personalities requiring radically different parenting styles. Odd, that, in the same family and everything. Point: don't judge. You don't know the kid. You don't know the parent. Parenting is not about short term gain--it's not about the temper tantrum in Target, it's not about the playdate gone awry, or whether the five-year-old still carries a blanky; it's about turning out well-adjusted adults. And well-adjusted means something different to every person on the planet.

I can't stand when people purport One Godlike Theory for childraising--much less when they decry another theory for other people's kids. It's one of the most ignorant things you can do as a parent. Every person is different. Every child is different. If one "theory" works for all your kids, you're either very fortunate in this life, or you're fucking kidding yourself.

a space of their own

I try to let my house reflect who I am. I was a pro designer, now I've been relegated to amateur-land (my own house, mostly), but I think I'm sufficiently good at arranging spaces to accomodate at least my own family. Everyone needs their own private spaces. For the kids, it's been their bedrooms.

A writer (me) needs her own space, definitely. I spend what amounts to a part-time job (20-30 hrs) working. When my baby was a toddler, I wrote at my kitchen table. Gradually, I moved into my study. For years, my daughter's art table has been in my study as well. It kept her close. She's a consummate artist, flinging bits of paper and clay and paint with a driven madness that alternately saddens me (ech, my daugher the failed artist--can't wait to tell the bridge group in my fifties) and excites me (some of my greatest joy derives from making art).

The other day, in honor of school starting (my baby is going to Kindergarten) and company coming and my putting off actual cleaning, we rearranged some things in the house. First to shift: the art table went into the front room. I have a pretty front living room which has been taken over by kids: washable fabrics and a tv and plastic toys; you get the picture. She spends more and more time in there, playing with friends and toys.

This move was huge, HUGE to my daughter. I had to wonder why she was so excited. A change of scenery is always nice, but she was jumping up and down and hugging me, "Thank you thank you thank you, Mommy!" Mommy. She hasn't called me Mommy since she was two.

I finally realized that to her, moving the table that kept her in proximity to me is a sign of my confidence in her maturity. I was letting go a bit without even realizing it. At 5 1/2, she no longer needs me to hover. She can get water at the sink, carry it without spilling to her table, and paint all by herself. She's old enough to post her own art on her own bulleton board. She was old enough to move out, on a mininscule level, and I gave her that freedom without saying a word.

I think, as parents, we tend to ignore these opportunities. It's easy to tell your kids you're proud of them. But expecting him to make his own bed or giving her the time to learn to buckle her own carseat makes gestures a thousand kind words can't replace. Her excitement reminded me that my job as a parent is to prepare her to move on, away from me, even if it's just to another room.

Fighting: not cool

I have a quite good friend who always takes her kids' side in a fight. Advocating for your children is not a bad thing. That is part of our job as parents. However, it's a fine line between friends, because this particular mother somehow manages to also make it look as if the other child (in a most recent incident, mine) wrong. I realized the lengths, recently, to which she'll protect her little darlings: she made sure my kid knew that she thought my kid lied, and later, she even recalled The Incident as happening in the wrong place! (It was a pushing incident, and to be clear, when I walked in, my kid was on the ground. My daughter is quite the accomplished truth-bender, but most five-year-olds aren't savvy enough to prop their lies with physical posing. Mine certainly is not.)

Part of keeping your cool is sticking firmly to our own maturity level. We somehow we often allow our children to drag us into their squabbles. These are the sorts of altercations that most thinking adults resolve with a few words: ("Hey, when you're through with it, can I use that shovel?" "Sure, I'll trade you for the bucket.")

It is imperative to not take sides for children. They learn bad things if an adult sweeps in and "solves" their fights for them.

All I have to do is cry and mummy will fix it.
I can get my way by pushing other people around.
I don't have to talk it out.


And they eventually might wonder:

Why doesn't that kid want to play with me any more?

I don't have a lot of fighting at my house, but for better or worse, if two kids are fighting, both kids get in trouble. That means if my kids are arguing over something inane, "negotiating" over where everyone gets to sit, for example, everyone loses. The TV turns off, the toy gets removed, whatever. Frankly, yeah, sometimes one kid is being more of a jerk than the other. Jerks are a part of life. Dealing with them builds character. And, kids have a choice. It takes two people to have an argument. A kid can always walk away. But if they choose to stay and fight, then they risk losing all.

Yes, it turns me into the enemy. But I'm not my children's' friend, and "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" was never truer than among 8-year-olds.

welcome to parenthood

My brother bought me a book How to Raise Children At Home In Your Spare Time. The humor is so dry it's tasteless, which is my favorite kind. The other cool thing is that the author, Marvin J Gersh, MD, looks like Lurch.

Lurch--er, Gersh takes a casual approach to child rearing, which is how I take it, too. I mean, it should be fun, at least part of the time. One of the quotes on the back says how the book emancipates parents again. Really, maybe they should reprint it. People are so damned serious about their little shi--, darlings, that they have lost all sense of fun. All these retired power-mommies run their three-year-olds around from playgroups to piano lessons, packing snacks and powerbars and wondering how they'll fit in toilet training, what with the schedule and all. I just heard a review about those BabyMozart DVDs and how the company did no research on television, or even their brand of television, on small children. People seem to think every second should be a learning moment, doubletasking fun and learning like the kid is running out of time or something. (Phonics placemats to little toilet letters for the kid to aim at with his pee.) (Ok, I made that up, but really, it's not so far out there.) The reporter did extensive research and her stunning conclusion: little kids really just want to hang out by their folks. Notice the preposition by as opposed to with. To be clear, I loathe playing with my children. I just feel stupid sitting there with my half-dressed Barbie making small talk. They don't need me. They can play alone or with friends or with each other. Kids are supposed to play with kids. I also loathe sleeping with my kids. I've slept with each of them perhaps twice and it was four times too many.

HTRCAHIYSP also has great chapter titles. "When Kids Should Be Shot." "How Many Times Is Normal." My kid had just dropped the f-bomb (I have no idea where he heard such language!) and when I opened the book, I turned right to the chapter entitled "Oh, He Said A Naughty Word." There's "How To Camp Out With Your Kids, or Not Be A Square Parent." That one's about what not to say, As in "IF YOU EVER..." or "When I was your age..."

Oh, and on sex he says, ...convinced that the varieties of sexual behavior are probably infintite, and I feel that adults ought to be allowed to engage in any activity that doesn't frighten the horses in the street. (Street sex in the country: Out. Check.) He also points out that he's talking about adults, not kids. He says he described sex to his kid and she said, "That's odd." Which it, in fact, is.

The most important thing he says, still in the sex section, but it applies to overall child rearing is To be perfectly realistic, I don't expect them to behave the way I would like now and forever; they are subject not only to other influences but to the sheer contrariness which makes every generation react against its elders. However, I would try to influence my children as much as I can.

That there is freaking brilliance. I think my bro got his 69 cents worth.

This is where I will someday wax poetic about being a parent.