parenting

Homework Time

By / November 2, 2011 / 3 Comments

Helping my children do homework is kind of fun. Arguing with my children because they’d rather pick a fight than do the work is not fun. Standing guard over my children so they don’t distract themselves is alternately boring and frustrating. Unfortunately most homework times feature the second two far more than the first. The work they are assigned is not too hard, nor does it take them too long. If it were only the homework we’d have no challenges. But my children are… children. They lack the emotional maturity and skills to understand that sometimes the best way to get out of something is to go through it as fast as possible. I’m teaching perseverance and problem solving right along with spelling. I’m teaching them how to read a text book along with answering the history questions. I’m teaching neat handwriting along with the math. With those hidden lessons considered, then the true challenge of homework becomes apparent and their struggles with it become understandable. The thing I have to remember when I’m biting my tongue and counting to keep my temper, is that the struggle itself is the teacher. It is when we are struggling that we grow. Which I suppose should apply to my own struggles and have more patience with me as well as with them.

New Rules, New Complications

By / November 1, 2011 / 4 Comments

This morning I declared a new rule; that for every candy wrapper I found outside of a garbage can, I would confiscate one piece of candy. It was not a reasoned or calculated declaration, just the natural response of knowing that the influx of Halloween candies would mean garbage all over the house. Sometimes these in-the-moment rules feel brilliant in the moment of creation. Sometimes they are. Other times, not so much. The problem with new rules is that they then have to be enforced. In theory since I am both the maker of family rules and the enforcer thereof, no problems should result. Yet they do.

My new rule was immediately met with rules lawyering. What if Gleek left the wrapper out, but I confiscated a piece of Patch’s candy? How would that be fair? I answered that perhaps they should just pick up any wrapper they saw rather than stopping to worry whose it was. The first confiscations occurred within thirty minutes. The first post-confiscation argument about fault happened thirty seconds later. This is where rule enforcement breaks down. Now I know that any confiscation will likely result in an argument. Instead of instantly applying consequences when I see a wrapper, I pause. Is this a good time to deal with an argument? Should I pretend I didn’t see the wrapper and hope they’ll snatch it up? Should I draw attention to the wrapper and give them a chance to clean it up? The rule will be most effective if I apply the consequence quickly, efficiently, and without comment. In theory it will solve the problem of candy wrappers. However it also creates hidden incentives. If Gleek has a candy stash and Link only has one piece, he has no incentive other than good citizenship to clean up his wrapper. An angry child might fish wrappers out of the trash and strew them all over the house on purpose in order to get a siblings’ candy confiscated. Suddenly instead of a simple action and consequence I have to start listening to cases and weighing motives. The rule which was supposed to make my life simpler can instead be a time sink.

Then there is the issue of co-enforcement. I made up my new rule instantly without consulting Howard in advance. In this case he liked the rule, but what if he disagreed with it? We’ve done that to each other before, requiring the other to decide between parental unity or discipline preferences. Even when we agree on the rule and consequence, our enforcement techniques will differ. The kids will quickly learn which parent is more lenient on which rules. They will take advantage of this knowledge.

All of this makes rule making sound futile. Yet it isn’t. The creation and abolition of rules helps our family define who we are. All those arguments about “Why should I lose my candy when he left the wrapper on the floor” are really discussions about compassion, fairness, and boundaries. We’re learning methods of confrontation both good and bad. Sometimes it all goes wrong and ends with slammed doors. Other times we wend our way through argument into laughter. Bit by bit we define who we are when we are together as a family. Rules come into existence as they are needed and they wisp away when the purpose has passed. Hopefully somewhere within the next three days this particular rule will help us re-define ourselves as people who throw garbage in the trash can instead of waiting for mom to pick it up.

Score Card for the Week

By / October 27, 2011

Projects completed:

Gleek’s multi-page mystery story featuring the ghost of the explorer Samuel De Champlain which needed to demonstrate the qualities of an explorer, have at least three clues, have at least three obstacles, be detailed, and typed. With a card stock cover.

Kiki’s art project for reflections which she originally envisioned as five small paintings matted together to create a single image. But then some of the details were too small for painting, it didn’t turn out how she pictured, and she decided she hated it. In the end she stayed up til 3 am the night before it was due, discarded three of the paintings to finish up the other two, and still was not happy with the result. At least it got turned in.

Gleek’s explorer board game based on the life of Samuel De Champlain. We re-purposed all the pieces from a CSI Miami board game that I found at the thrift store. There was much cutting, pasting, taping, and gluing to get everything in place.

Link’s balsa wood bridge. He did this pretty much by himself, both carefully and methodically. There was a moment of panic in the final assembly, but all turned out well.

Link’s book reports. He had to finish up two book reports before the end of the term. This meant finding and reading books then writing the reports. Fortunately both the books and the reports can be short. One down so far.

Putting up t-shirts in the store and then shipping them. All the packages ordered before 8 am yesterday are out the door.

Howard spent some time designing new merchandise. Most of these items are ready to go.

Gleek’s Tiffany Aching costume. This included the creation of a book entitled The Goode Childe’s Booke of Faerie Tales and the acquisition of a black witches hat.

Patch’s Nac Mac Feegle costume. The Halloween shopping fairies smiled upon me yesterday afternoon and let me find all the needed pieces in a single store. I have a little bit of minor sewing to do, but I still count finding all the pieces as a win.

Projects incomplete:

Mailing another 30 or so packages.

Link’s second book report.

Kiki’s page-long Japanese translation assignment, which was due today.

The repair of the furnace which decided not to heat the house today. Current house temp 61 degrees and dropping.

The repair of my windshield so that I can pass safety and emissions and re-register the car. Also so that I can get that chugging noise in the engine checked.

Howard wanted to draw several weeks of comics, hasn’t happened yet.

Helping both Kiki and Link figure out costumes.

All the less urgent things which got shoved so far out of my brain that I can’t remember what they are. However I will remember them quite clearly next week when they still aren’t done.

Patch’s reflections project which he had originally envisioned as a visual arts piece, but discovered that creating what he had in his mind was beyond his current capabilities. The new plan is for him to write a story on the theme instead. This is due next week. Time must be made for it over the weekend.

Gleek’s book report. This is due on Monday. Fortunately she has already read the book and the report itself is not particularly difficult to put together.

Emotional dramas endured this week:

Gleek’s fear that her story and game were not good enough.

Kiki’s emotional roller coaster over her art piece.

Link’s overwhelmed sadness at having end-of-term pressure.

Kiki needing to work through her emotions about a mean girl at school who has chosen her for a target.

Patch being much more volatile and quick to anger than usual. Still haven’t figured out if this is an age thing or if there is some underlying emotional issue that I need to dig out.

5 out of 6 Taylers having at least one semi-depressed day during which all efforts seemed futile and the tasks ahead insurmountable.

Many arguments over the cat because the whole family loves the cat, but we all have differing opinions about how to appropriately love, play, and interact with the cat. The cat also has opinions, but is fortunately blessed with a deep well of tolerance and patience.

Kiki realizing that she simply does not have the skills nor the time to make the Samus armor costume that she has been envisioning for over a year. She had to grieve and figure out how to put that dream down for awhile.

Many arguments along the lines of “argh! You’re not listening to me!” vs. “I was listening, I just needed to finish this one thing.” Also many arguments over “Yes you did!” “No I didn’t!” Players were completely interchangeable. Everyone took their turn being unreasonable.

Other thoughts:

I have a hard time feeling sympathetic with children who are feeling overwhelmed when I am also feeling the same thing, only my overwhelmed also encompasses all of their things as well. Yet observing this out loud does nothing to help anyone, and it is in some measure false. Their things are theirs and I should keep my mitts off.

Link really impressed me. The day after stomping off sad and depressed, he sat down and made his very own checklist for how he was going to accomplish all of his work. Then he calmly and quietly work his way down the list. He just did it. I need to remember to compliment him for that maturity.

I don’t like it when I go into a rant and realize that I sound exactly like the rant which annoyed me from a child only hours ago. It makes me have to face the fact that either I am as childish as they are, or their rant was valid and I should have been more respectful of their emotional experience. A little of both probably.

On Monday the shirts arrived. Today I will ship out the last of them. We’ve had the influx of income which lets us re-stock the store for Christmas and which will let us pay bills in the interim. I am very glad of this. I could wish that this event was not in the middle of all the other events, but it couldn’t have happened earlier and we didn’t want to delay. We need this flurry of merchandise right now, but it will be nice to get back to the slower-paced work on creating books.

And after writing all of that out, I discover that I have no interest in actually calculating a score for the week. Instead I’ll just let it all be what it is and hope that next week can be calmer.

Homework Stress

By / October 25, 2011

This is the week when all four of my children simultaneously realize that the term ends on Friday and they have run out of time to finish all their procrastinated homework. Stress is swooping around the house and creating little quarrels just about everywhere. On top of that is the imminence of Halloween, for which we are also unprepared. I get to run around, trying to find the correct balance between taskmaster, cheerleader, assistant, and psychologist. Ultimately I can’t do the work for them, I have to remind myself of this every time I am faced with a task which would take me only ten minutes. I can see clearly that ten minutes of my effort would buy us freedom from stress. However it would also be stealing the rewards of effort from my child. Educating the children is supposed to be the point. Yet sometimes it takes every bit of willpower I can muster to keep my hands off.

I think today is the climax of the stress. I hope it is. I would very much like tomorrow to be more pleasant than either today or yesterday.

Stringing Together Some Disconnected Thoughts

By / October 19, 2011 / 2 Comments

5:37 pm. I should really be cooking dinner right now instead of staring at the “new post” box and pondering what to blog. The trouble is that I didn’t blog yesterday or the day before and so I have an accumulation of half-formed blog thoughts. None of them are clicking together in attractive ways. So I shall spill my fragmentary thoughts and label it a blog post.

I had insomnia on Sunday night. This happens to me occasionally, usually because my brain won’t stop thinking about things I’m stressed over. Sunday’s insomnia had a different flavor. I felt quite floaty and relaxed, yet still kept bouncing awake as if the transition into deep sleep had somehow turned into a trampoline. I finally dropped off around 3 am. This meant that Monday was a high energy, focused day. My body shifted into overdrive mode to manage the sleep deprivation. Tuesday was the other end of the pendulum swing and I got nothing much done. More frustrating was that Tuesday night was a reprise of the bouncing awake phenomenon. I was not pleased. Also I have much greater sympathy for the folks of my acquaintance who suffer from insomnia regularly. Though hopefully in the future I can confine my sympathies to normal waking hours.

Patch out grew his bike. Gleek’s bike is the perfect size for him. It is also still the right size for Gleek. Prior to this discovery Gleek’s preferred method for cruising the cul de sac was on her ripstik. Now she must have her bike. Patch also needs her bike with a desperation bordering on tantrum. Two kids. One bike. One parenting dilemma. I have the capability to drive down to Walmart and buy a new bike. However I don’t really want to teach my kids that mom will solve their problems with money, particularly since money has been flowing out at a good clip these past few weeks. Multiple trips to doctors, prescriptions, dental work, and automotive repair have all occurred. I’m pausing to think before buying anything. So I’m pondering the problem and enduring daily squabbles. Eventually a path will become clear. Or it will start snowing and make bikes a moot point until next spring.

Tomorrow the kids are out of school, which spikes my ability to get computer based work done. I tend to focus on more physical organization, like house cleaning. I’ve been needing to assemble more Emperor Bundles for awhile. That may fit into tomorrow. Then there are the omnipresent homework projects for my two younger kids. Friday is also a school free day. Saturday I’ll be helping chauffeur Kiki to an anime convention. So the next few days are not exactly vacationish, but I will get to sleep later. More sleep would be a good thing in the second half of the week.

This is why I write, my brain just clicked a solution together. I will offer Patch and Gleek the chance to help me build Emperor Bundles as a way to earn a new bike. I can feel good about a bike as a reward for working. Whether the new bike goes to Gleek or to Patch will have to be negotiated. For now I need to go make dinner. I’ll do it feeling satisfied that the writing process strung together all those pieces which felt disconnected while drifting about in my brain.

Three Loose Thoughts on Parenting

By / October 16, 2011 / 1 Comment

“Once you’ve drawn the space ships and the death star and the meteors, then you put your pencil on a ship and flick it with your finger. It makes a line and that is how you move.” Patch was intently describing the rules of a game which he plays with a friend at recess. Later that same day I sat and listened to Gleek describe the super volcano under Yellowstone National Park, why it is scary, but also why she is not worried. The actual content of these conversations is not particularly important, but the fact that we have them is critical. By listening to the minutiae, I am building in my children a belief that what matters to them also matters to me. At some point in the future a difficult conversation will be made easier by all the little conversations which came before.

***

Gleek’s doodle journal went missing this morning. She wanted to bring it to church. I helped her look, but was unable to locate it. I looked at my daughters sad face. Downstairs on my shipping table was a brand new sketch book. One of my small “make beautiful things” projects the week before had been to recover an ordinary sketch book and transfer the doodle journal logo to the front. I figured it was probably for Christmas along with the bound sketch book which Patch had been wanting for months. I told Gleek to wait and I grabbed both, handing a book to each child. Smiles burst forth on both faces. Sometimes solving today’s trouble is more important than future planning. These books were far more appreciated on this day than they ever would be in the midst of Christmas abundance.

***

Children are complete individuals, not just larval adults. So often I magnify current faults and project how they would play out disastrously in an adult context. This is a false fear. Far too much growth lies between here and there to be able to predict outcomes. It is much better to see my children as they are and discern what they need right now. Gleek quit piano lessons and along with them ditched a feeling of dismal failure. Kiki selected non-college prep accounting instead of a more academic math credit, because she can see uses for accounting skills in her imagined future. Next semester Link will be taking a debate class that he is certain to hate, because practicing presentation skills will be of immediate use in his life. Sometimes this focus on my kids as they are means I need to ask more of them, other times I must back off. Either way it reduces stress because of the immediacy of the requirements and the results. When I focus on who my kids are right now, I am much better able to see and trust in their strengths and virtues.

Recovery, Organization, and Feeling Trapped

By / October 15, 2011

Illness has receded for me. Yesterday was made of fatigue with brief reprieves of energy. Today has mostly been normal with occasional bouts of fatigue. I wish I could report the same of Howard. He continues to suffer. I made the dessert quiche and it was passable, an experiment worth repeating with alterations. The spinach quiche was better, but is crying out for the inclusion of artichokes.

The chaos in the boys’ room is trending toward tamed. Usually when the mess reaches that level I can solve much of the problem by simply removing the garbage. Somehow my boys have not grasped that unnecessary packaging should be placed in the garbage can rather than shoved onto the nearest flat surface. I’m hopeful that this round of organization will last longer since I’m requiring the boys to do their own sorting. The complaints have been many and the progress slow. Bit by bit we begin to see what sorts of containers would be helpful in taming the mess. For instance, Patch has a tendency to array small toys on a large shelf. Inevitably things get stacked on the small toys and it all turns into a jumble. We need to acquire a wall-mounted set of display shelves intended for small cool things. I’ve added this to the thrift store acquisition list.

The day felt endlessly long when we were in the middle, the house was full of kids, the doorbell was ringing every quarter hour, and the phone rang almost as often. I wanted to flee the house, go find a quiet space elsewhere. Unfortunately I was tethered by the group of teenage girls using my sewing machine and likely in need of technical help. Also abandoning sick Howard to manage the chaos seemed cruel. So I stayed, and felt trapped, tangled in my web of connections. Then evening came and all the kids migrated outdoors. The blue light of evening began to fill the sky. I sat on my porch watching kids ride in smooth circles around the cul de sac. Sometimes I tipped my head back and watched the slow progress of wispy clouds against the bright blue sky. The evening felt as open and free as the afternoon felt trapped. And I begin to feel that perhaps the day has been a good one.

A Greenhouse Realization

By / October 9, 2011

Four kids steered through pre-church preparations, two kids helped to weather emotional upsets, dishes, Sunday dinner, and Family Home Evening preparations were all done. I’d earned some quiet space. I thought that the me-of-now should get to do something she wanted. So I gathered my journal and scriptures to retreat to my room. I also carried with me a printed article that I’d read on the internet that morning. I’d skim read it in the last moments before the pre-church rush. Something in it called to me, so I printed it for a more in depth reading. Or perhaps for clipping and taping into my River Journal. The events of the day had left no time for pondering until that moment.

The article told the story of a woman who had an invigorating, well-paying, and rewarding job. Yet one evening she discovered herself crying without knowing why. Something about her job did not fill her soul. She realized her life did not give her chances to nurture. I could see why the story resonated for me. I too have cried and then had to puzzle out why. I began to write a journal entry to puzzle out how her experience was different than mine. I started the sentence “I nurture all the time” but stopped halfway through, suddenly not sure that the sentence was true. I spend all day most days creating a family structure optimized for the growth of everyone inside it. Yet building a greenhouse is not the same as tending and fertilizing the plants within it.

There in my room, away from my family I realized that at any free moment my first thought was to retreat, to spend time alone. All day I maintained the structure of the greenhouse and then fled from it rather than relishing the atmosphere inside. As I scratched away with my pen, my four children were downstairs engaged in reading, drawing, and playing. I put my pen down and grabbed a deck of cards. At least I could sit in the same room with them playing solitaire. I could be part of the quiet togetherness that they were having. Within moments of the first card shuffle, Kiki offered to show me a different game. She and I played several rounds together while the other kids played their own games. We laughed a lot. I once dreamed of the time when I could play cards with my kids without having to adapt for young players. I almost missed out on it.

I need to remember that the point of the green house is the flowers.

Toddlers in Tiaras and Parenting

By / September 11, 2011 / 2 Comments

In between all the cleaning I did yesterday, I watched some episodes of Toddlers in Tiaras a documentary/reality show that was filmed for TLC about child beauty pageants. Documentary film interests me not only for the stated subject matter of the show, but also because of the semi-invisible hand of the film crews and the editor. Sometimes the film crews blatantly bait people to do things which show them in a bad light. That didn’t seem to be the case with Toddlers and Tiaras. The film crews attempted to record rather than provoke. This strategy seemed wise since there was plenty of provocative material to go around. Parents were shown coaching, cajoling, and coercing their children into extensive beauty preparations and stage routines. Some of the children really did seem cheerful and happy about the experience. Other times it was obviously the passion of the parent driving all the effort. The children were obviously trying to please and the parents were living out a dream through the child.

I have philosophical issues with the idea of child beauty pageants. I have issues with young children under the age of twelve in any sort of high pressure competition, but even more so with one that teaches young girls that beauty is in paint and hairpieces. My distaste would have led me to turn off the show quickly except that I was fascinated by the psychology on display. These families spent thousands of dollars setting up their kids for pageant appearances, when most of the prizes were much smaller. Some pageants had no cash prizes at all, just crowns. So I watched, trying to figure out where the rewards were that made up for all the costs in time, effort, and money. The only one I could consistently see was the same sorts of parental pride I see at your average playground when a mom watches her son dribble better than his peers.

As I watched, I began to be subtly disturbed, not by the priorities on display, but by the similarities I could see to things that I have done. I watched a mother talk her daughter into doing another pageant by counting her Eighty-seven crowns. Another mother used implications of shame to get her son to practice walking and looking at the judges. A third mother told her daughter that sometimes pain is necessary to be beautiful. I’ve never tried to deliver those particular messages, but I’ve had moments that were shaped exactly the same when I needed to talk a child into going to school, to get a vaccination, or to clean up after herself. I’ve used the same sorts of words, body language, and facial expressions. These pageant parents love their children and honestly believe that they are doing something good. From where I stand it looks like most of them are instead being driven by some internal need which is other than the good of the child. Then I must wonder and pay attention to my own choices, knowing that some of my choices will look values-skewed to someone viewing them from outside. It is my responsibility to double check myself, and make sure that the paths I am leading myself and my child along are good ones.

Predictably, this is television after all, the parents get more demanding as the series goes along. This is in part because the show moves to the higher-prize, higher-pressure pageants. I suspect it is also due to editing choices. The show sets out to expose a subculture, not to explain it. There is no second season, I suspect after the first one no one else would consent to be filmed.

Multiple Choice Parenting

By / September 9, 2011 / 2 Comments

1. Gleek lays on the couch with tears in the corners of her eyes. “I don’t want to go to New School anymore. I want to go back to Old School!”

  • A. I feel guilty and worried about what I have done to her, and wonder if I have made the right choice.
    B. I quiz her about what is wrong with New School so that I can offer reasonable counter arguments and examples.
    C. I remind her of the reasons we felt like this shift was the right thing to do.
    D. I suppress any sympathy I may feel and simply order her to get ready.
    E. I listen to her feelings and validate them while trying to find rewards which will cajole her toward attending school.

2. Kiki has to sort out a relationship with a friend at school which suddenly became much more emotionally complicated and tangled.

  • A. Listen to her feelings and then offer advice.
    B. Listen to her feelings and then keep my advice to myself because she needs to sort this out for herself.
    C. Tell her she is borrowing trouble or making a big deal out of nothing.
    D. Tell her how to solve the problem and then make her do it instead of wallowing in indecision.

3. Patch comes down to Writer’s Group coughing and lolls on the floor like a limp fish after he has already been tucked into bed twice.

  • A. Scowl at him and order him back to bed.
    B. Get up and get him some cough medicine then walk him back to bed.
    C. Recognize that the real issue is not the cough, but some emotional need. Excuse myself from Writer’s Group and spend 20 minutes wearing my psychologist hat to sort it out.
    D. Ask Link to help him so that I can focus on the critique I am supposed to be giving.

4. Link decides that he wants to go to the store and spend his own money on a game. He wants to go right now and when asking me produces a “not right now” answer, proceeds to hover where he can see me change activities. This way he can ambush me with “Can we go now?” every time I walk past.

  • A. Continue to answer “not right now” because he keeps interrupting my thought processes at moments when I can’t think through what would be a good time to go.
    B. Sit down to explain that a trip to the store rearranges my already-tight afternoon schedule. Then have to witness his sadness and disappointment.
    C. Take time to schedule exactly when we can go. Then witness his disappointment when the answer is to go some other day.
    D. Tell him to stop it, because he is being annoying.
    E. Sigh and say “fine” then take him to the store.

Answers:
Any of the above answers can be right for any of the above questions depending upon context, fatigue levels, ancillary circumstances, and the number of people nearby to observe the interaction.

What? You thought parenting had clear answers? Not in my experience.