To Be or Not to Be....a Good Parent

The definition of a good parent is subjective.  From self-reliant, to successful, to soccer extraordinaire, and everything in between, parents are judged on a lot of different markers when it comes to the outcome of their kids.  Some define a good parent as someone who takes care of his child’s every need, and then some.  Others classify a good parent as one who makes decisions in the best interest of her child first, before anything else.  Still another faction of folks designate a good parent by the level of respect and politeness said parent’s children demonstrate to others.  There’s no one, solid, correct answer.  Basically, as a parent, you have to choose what’s important to you to provide for your kids, and dig in from there.

It’s not easy, by any stretch of the imagination.  Sometimes it’s downright hard to make the decisions that you know are right for you and your family.  Take, for instance, today’s decision to let my child muster through running club after school without her running gear that she neglected to pack.  On the way to school this morning, I double-checked my 9-year-old that she had her bag running clothes for her after-school program.

“I have that today?” she inquired earnestly.

“Yep.  Every Monday and Wednesday.  Today’s Wednesday,” I responded matter-of-factly.

At that moment, the 2^nd bell rang from the school, still a half a block away, indicating it’s time for my daughter to hit it so that she can make it into her seat by the last bell.

“I’ll pick you up after run club!” I yelled after her.  “You’ll be fine in your jeans.  Love you!”

There was not time for my daughter to get upset.  She bolted across the street, down the block, and into the entrance of the school.  It was actually an ideal situation.  I didn’t have to deal with the moaning and groaning of her worrying how she will possibly run in jeans instead of sweatpants and her nice knit shirt instead of her long-sleeve thermal and sweatshirt.  There was no chance for her to ‘wa, wa, wa’ about how unlucky she is for having forgotten her good running shoes and tell me that she’ll probably get a blister from the shoes she has on.  It was just done.

I did an about-face and headed back home, without a second thought to the after-school running.  By 10am, I was debating whether to pack a quick bag and drop it off at school on the way back from dropping my little one at preschool. 

“No, I’m not going to do it,” I kept telling myself.  “This is good for her.”

My 4^th grader has had a hard time this year with organization and planning and scheduling.  First it was the homework…when to do which assignments during the week to meet her class deadlines and when to push it off until another day.  Next was how to function when getting home late from after-school activities, where she sacrifice some of her free time, family time, and homework time.  Now she’s working on finessing her morning routine so that she rises, takes care of her school preparations before eating and free-time, so that she’s always ready for her day.  My gut told me that this was a lesson for her in the last rung of her organization ladder.

I went on about my day, but by mid-afternoon, the freakin’ running bag entered my mind again!  Maybe I was being too much of a hard-ass and I should just throw her shoes and some sweats in a bag and drop them off in the office at school before the end of the day.  After all, she’s a good kid.  Competing in my head, though, ran a loop of a conversation I’d recently had with a school official regarding the high number of instances each day where parents drop forgotten items off at school for their children.  Lunchboxes, lunch money, gym clothes, homework, and projects….all things that their kids NEED to complete their day.  In reality, kids will scrounge off of someone else’s lunch, play volleyball in their Uggs, get a reduction in grade for late homework or request an extension.  In other words, it all works itself out.

Reminding myself of that, I decided to stick to my guns and drop the issue altogether.  My daughter of course made it through practice without a hitch, enjoyed her workout, and was only mildly annoyed at the fact that I had consciously decided not to bring her clothes to her in the middle of the day.  After thinking about it more, she said she completely understood and respected my decision and that it was a good lesson for her, but that she was still a little irritated by it.

Fine by me.  I’m her mom, not her fan club or girlfriend.  My job is to allow her to eventually figure things out on her own, experience consequences of actions, and see how the world really works.  The world works like this:  things don’t always go according to plan and sometimes you have to just deal with it.  She dealt, as did I.

A Moment to Treasure

I had one of those perfect moments with my child today.  You know the one, where time stops and you acknowledge the moment for what it is…something beautiful.  I was playing a friendly game of cards with my 4-year-old.  Our daily card game habit developed a few weeks back when we redecorated the living room and created a separate alcove in the front window area, complete with two comfy, antique lounge chairs separated by a small glass coffee table, which lends perfectly to a game table.

Depending on who’s playing, we rotate back and forth from games like Old Maid, Crazy Eights and Go Fish, to Snowflake, Rummy, and Double Solitaire.  Today the deck was dealt for Go Fish and the two of us took turns asking each other for cards, while being entertained by the notes of the piano being played in the background by my older daughter during her in-home piano lesson.   My piano-playing daughter started a new song….one I’d heard her practice a hundred times at home….one that I loved for its simplicity and beauty….one that made me stop and take note under ordinary conditions. 

But today, she was being accompanied by her piano teacher, and the combination of players and additional notes brought the song to life in a way I had never experienced.  It’s hauntingly beautiful notes demanded the attention of all within earshot, and our card game came to a standstill as tears burned the back of my eyes and eventually spilled onto my cheeks, as I was overcome with appreciation for the music being played, the teacher challenging my daughter to play more passionately, and my daughter’s love of creating such beautiful sounds.  My little card shark partner took note of the music as well, and her eyes started to mist over, as she left her chair and came closer to give me a hug and wipe the tears from my face.

As the moment of musical beauty slowly gave way to the special moment of appreciation my younger daughter and I were sharing together, she leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “Got an eight?”

Freedom to Fall

It’s so much easier and less nerve-wracking to coddle our kids than allow them to fall on their faces.  It’s so much better for them to bite it, though, as it not only let’s them experience failure, disappointment, and sometimes physical hurt that is required for them to keep perspective, but also can provide motivation for them to try again and confidence to keep going .

I like to think of myself as a hands-off parent, who gives my kids latitude when it comes to learning how to do things on their own.  I like to give ‘em the tools and let them put in the effort.  It’s great to hold that image, but the reality of the situation is that sometimes I baby them.  From helping them get ready for school in the morning to holding their hands when they’re learning to ice skate, I provide extra assistance that they just don’t need.  I may want to give it and they may want to receive it, but I’m really not doing anyone any favors.

We’ve always treated my eldest daughter like a little china doll, so delicate and frail.  While we tried to teach her to shake things off when she fell down or hurt herself, she seemed to need, or we seemed to need to give, a lot of reassurance each time.  The tears over taking a tumble on her scooter always elicited back patting and hand holding from us, and a wipeout on her skates was always instant hysteria.  

My 4-year-old has helped me learn to back off, though, with both of my kids, as she literally pushes me away as she always wants to do everything by herself.  Since she learned how to walk, she’s been on her own.

“I want to do it myself, Mom,” she’d say when I’d try to help her get her coat on.   

If I’d cajole one arm into her coat without her doing it on her own, she’d rip her arm out of the sleeve and put in back in….by herself.

“I can do it,” she’d say as she was rolling herself away from me when I tried to help her ride a bicycle without training wheels.   

She’d crash and fall and cut things open, but she finally did it….by herself.

The two girls have let their individual approaches blend a bit over the years, making my older daughter a bit tougher and my younger daughter a bit more calculated in her steps.  It’s helped me develop a more unified approach to ‘helping’ them as well.

My parenting approach regarding what they ‘need’ in regards to freedom to do things for themselves was put to the test recently at a day-ski resort.  While my girlfriend grew up skiing big mountains, I’d never done more than tobogganing in the Midwest.  We went for a day as a family last year and the girls and I took our first ski lessons.  We had a wonderful time and by the end of the day, maneuvered the bunny hill together.  This year we went back again, this time with friends, and put the girls in kids ski school in the morning, while I took a lesson of my own and the other adults skied without hindrance from the beginners.  At lunch time, the kids excitedly told us how they’d graduated from various stations on to the next.  Since they were making such progress, we decided to register them for the afternoon kids’ classes as well.

After paying for the additional lessons, the ski school instructor asked me if I wanted to give my consent for my older daughter to ride the ski life unassisted.  I was dumbfounded with the question, as I’d just ridden the ski lift unassisted for the first time in my life twenty minutes ago and fell flat on my face when exiting the chair.  It had been hard to get up and out of the way, and eventually the lift had to be stopped to accommodate me.  And that was just the ride up!  I won’t even broach the fear, excitement and wipeouts I encountered on the way down the hill.  As I stood there pondering how to answer the question about the lift for my daughter, I remembered the excitement and sense of pride my daughter had just a few minutes ago shared with me over learning to ski….on her own.  I gave the woman my consent and hurried back to the group to give them the go-ahead for ski school.

I wrestled with my own learning curve throughout the next few hours skiing.  While I mastered the lift, controlling my pace on the mountain was proving problematic.  I kept forgetting to turn to slow myself down and ended up face down in the snow on numerous occasions.   I knew I’d eventually get it, and my girlfriend and friends thought I’d have an easier run on another trail.  We headed over to the other hill, which was situated close to the kids ski school bunny hill.  As we stood in line for the lift, I noticed a child skier coming down the mountain we were about to climb.  The coat looked a lot like my kid’s coat and the funny red sunglasses were identical to my eldest daughter’s.  She finished her run and jumped on the lift, by herself, and made her way back up the mountain.  Sure enough, in the hour and a half since we’d dropped her at class, my scaredy cat older daughter had graduated out of the kids bunny slope and learned to ski with control down a mountain I had yet to even try myself!

I’ve never seen her more confident in her movement than on that hill.  We followed her up a few chairs back and watched as she navigated her way back down the hill on her skis.  She ran into trouble here and there, but easily got herself back on track like a pro.  Later, when class was over, we skied together for a few hours.  She tripped exiting the lift once, but didn’t even consider her usual crying routine.  She laughed at the akwardness of her position and painstakingly found her way back up to a vertical position.  She had so much fun that she didn’t want to leave.  More than that, she was so proud of herself and the time and energy and falls she’d put in to get to that place of control.  

Over on the bunny hill, my little daughter was hell-bent on taking the pull rope up by herself.  My girlfriend and I rotated off taking her up the hill on the rope, with her and her skis wedged between our skis. 

She’d say, “I can do it,” yet each time she tried alone, the rope would jerk her so hard that we thought it unlikely she’d make it even foot up alone, so we’d once again grab onto her, straddle her in between our legs, and ride up tandem.  

Each time we’d get to the top, she’d immediately veer off to the side and say, “Bye Mom,” and ski down the hill herself, willfully getting herself back to the tow rope entrance at the bottom of the hill, in hopes of riding up solo.

Finally I let go of the fear of her falling and just told her to try it.  As usual, the rope jerked her something fierce, but that little kid did not let go!  Up the hill she went, skis parallel.  She let go of the rope just short of the top and started to slide down backwards before falling into the snow, but she made it back to her feet, and skied down the hill from there.  That daredevil must have taken the tow rope back up that hill twenty times that afternoon.  She was proud as a peacock!  She was trying to tell other kids how to use the rope and in one case, offering advice to a mother trying to teach her own kids how to use the rope.

We sometimes forget how important that feeling of accomplishment of doing something on your own.  Doing something that no one else can take credit for, something that requires sacrifice, and sometimes blood, sweat, and tears.  We owe it to our children to let them experience joys, trials, and tribulations, or learning how to make it on their own two feet.  They’ll be falls and spills and slides backwards, but they’ll make it…if we just stand back and let them.

Back to the Basics

Sitting in an elementary school parent forum recently, I was overwhelmingly struck with the concept that as parents, we’re so involved in preparing our kids for advancement that we’ve forgotten to teach them the basics of how to advance on their own.  We’re too busy doing it for them to let them in on the secret of how to do it for themselves.

We’ve somehow lost touch with our Parenting 101 instincts.  We’re too busy advocating for their safety from other drivers and pedestrians to teach them how to effectively cross a street at a corner by looking both ways and using common courtesy and manners with others on the roads.  We band together to make sure they have the best technology in their classrooms, but never consider teaching them basic technology etiquette such as respectful usage of devices in social settings.  Back up the dial a half-turn and we’ve neglected to arm them with the elementary safety warning of not walking/riding/driving while using the devices.  We’re so worried about making sure the extra-curricular audition process is fair, that we leave out the lesson on how to effectively manage their expectations and emotions when it comes down to the outcome. 

It’s about common sense and I have to say we’ve lost some of it as a society of well-intentioned parents.  Even before our babies are born, we parents are so intent on making sure our children benefit from every opportunity that’s out there, that the basics of common sense parenting get bumped to the wayside.  We get them into the best baby classes, even if it means negotiating the most basic of human needs for infants:  sleep.  We micro-manage their days and activities as they get older, not allowing them to develop the skills of creativity and self-entertainment, as they have no free or down time.  Once they hit school-age, we lobby for the best of the best in education and activities, without insisting our kids cultivate the tools they need to be responsible, integrity-driven pupils, such as discipline, motivation, respect, and working hard to earn what they want.

We’re all guilty of losing that instinctual parenting focus from time to time.  Just this morning, I got so caught with my older daughter and I comforting my younger daughter after the plant she’s cared for over the past few months died, that we were late for school.  Come on!  Comfort is great, but school hours are not up for negotiation.  I did a poor job following the basics of parenting and instead spent too much time back-patting my child.  Today’s coddling will rear its ugly head down the road one day when something happens that’s really worthy of crying and my kid can’t move past the disappointment. 

The good news is that the opportunity is always there to revert back to common sense parenting, as parenting is fluid.  From the most hovering of helicopter parents to the absentee-parent who leaves it to Jr. to figure it out on his own, and everyone in between, we can start focusing on common sense parenting at any time and expect decent results.  Kids are like sponges and even if you’ve half-way raised a kid that can’t find her way out of a paper bag, by focusing today on the entry point being the same as the exit point, she’ll absorb a concept that can be used in everyday situations for the rest of her life.   

While you can subscribe to today’s parenting trends of indulgence and entitlement, tomorrow you can reel it back in with ownership and self-reliance.  It’s never too late to teach your child how to fish instead of serving him the meal on a platter.  Let’s venture back to the ABC’s of parenting together and help foster the development of responsible human beings.