My niece had a baby several months ago, her first. A close friend just celebrated the birth of her first grandchild. Three former clients wrote this week to tell me that new babies were born into their families. Babies! Babies! Babies! Oh, how I miss that “moment”, that first cry, the fresh smell of a newborn! I cannot think of a more reassuring example that life will go on despite all the horrific things that are currently happening in around the world!
Hollywood hyperbole fosters the sentiment that the above message is the “normal” response of every parent to a child throughout their lifetime. Conventional wisdom (derived from experience and fact) however, tells us that this scenario ain’t necessarily so! I admit that I do not like the word “normal” in any context which supports the politically correct definition of right versus wrong.
As a former midwife that has seen hundreds (perhaps even thousands that I have seen but not “caught”) of births, and taught parenting classes all around the world, I feel emboldened to add my two cents to the discussion about the “normalization” of the parent/child relationship. What’s “normal” for the Jones Family may look completely different to the Smith Clan. Whatever works for either family becomes the norm for them. There are exceptions to every rule, of course, and discipline is a heated topic amongst parents and therapists alike these days.
“Mike Hakes is the father of two young boys. He was raised in a very strict household that followed the edict, “spare the rod spoil the child”. Discipline was overtly translated into “love”. By adhering to their rules (probably in fear of a good paddling) Mike in his mind “proved” to Mom and Dad that they were loved and respected. He was never beaten, nor was the smacking hard enough to leave a mark. Mike said he knew he was loved because his parents were not afraid to dole out punishment whenever necessary. He frequently responds to naysayers “see, I turned out just fine!” He plans to raise his boys the same way”.
I, personally, don’t approve of spanking or paddling for any childhood misbehavior, but that specific resolve came later in life (a story for another blog). I am amazed that the topic is still so heated amongst early childhood professionals and parenting groups alike.
My father died when I was an infant, so it was up to my mother to discipline my older brother and me. Mom was just shy of five feet tall, but when we misbehaved and she got “that look” in her eyes, both my brother and I knew, without doubt, that life as we knew it was about to change! Soon after the crime came the “dreaded talk” to discuss our bad behavior in minute and never ending detail—which we feared and loathed more than any paddling our friends use to talk about! We sometimes wished we’d get a swat just to get it over with!
There is no such thing as a perfect parent, trust me. I used to chase my five young children when they were naughty with the threat of a spatula or fly swatter, which usually ended with “time out” and removal from immediate contact with others. They always came around before I lost control, Praise God. We are only human, after all. The key is to identify and nip the offensive behavior calmly before anyone loses control…more control, excessive control…eh, you know what I mean. That’s just common sense right?
Taking a page from my mother’s “parenting play book”, I totally perfected “the never-ending until your ears bleed talk” as my son puts it (he used to beg for a spanking!). Unfortunately for the twins, by the time they reached adolescence, I had completed enough psych classes so that the talk also came with diagrams, charts, “behavior homework” assignments and long, long instructive letters to explain why I was angry and what needed to be done to make amends— and make Momma happy again!
One of my traumatic experiences as a young mother came while we were living in India. Our first son (at three years old) was being naughty, and subsequently was placed on a chair for “time out”. His younger brother (seven months old) was in his walker, a round plastic contraption that allowed him to scoot around the room as practice for ambulating. The baby carefully watched the drama play out with his brother, and then for no reason (I suspect it was in solidarity with his brother) started to bang the walker over and over, harder and louder into the teak coffee table!
“Every moment is a teaching moment”. To show that I was equal- handed and not playing favorites, I calmly admonished the baby and took him out of his beloved vehicle. I put him in the playpen by the chair. What a fuss he made! I went into the kitchen only a few steps away, when I heard his older brother say to him loud enough for me to hear, “That’s okay, I don’t like her either!”
I was crushed by my son’s words (I really was!) but I realized at that moment that I didn’t want to be my children’s “best friend”. As they matured, I didn’t care (okay, maybe a little) if they resented or were angry about my rules, as I knew in my heart I was doing the best I could do to keep them safe and instruct them as a parent.
I continue to walk a different “fine line”, thankful that my children have grown up to be loving, respectful, intelligent and successful adults in their own right. They sometimes ask for advice about their children (my angelic grandchildren who are perfect in every way!), and my advice is always the same.
“No one knows your child better than you. Children are not out to get you or make you miserable. You are the parent, not their best friend. There is no one hundred percent perfect way of parenting. Do the research, do the very best you can, and this too will pass. Above all, trust your instincts and love them the most even when they are the least lovable.”
Please do not misinterpret my words. Some of you will say that I gave “platitudes” where real advice should be given, and in most instances you probably are right. Remember, I made a concerted effort to know my kids.
My personal parenting style is a perfect example of best intentions and common sense. In all humility, I don’t feel exceptional just because I know a few things about a few things. I Praise God each and every day that for reasons known only to Him, I dodged a bullet when others in similar situations did not. My kids were far from perfect (please believe me), but so were/are their parents.
Consider this: can you think of any profession or higher-calling of greater importance that does not require a basic skill set, licensure or legal certification to pass before becoming “qualified”? Therein lay the rub. If you can conceive a child, the world assumes you can also potentially be a parent. Fair enough, but again, we know from experience this isn’t always the reality.
Parenting is a full time job, with lots of hard work, learning from the mistakes we make., and tons of “experts” out there just waiting to tell you how terrible you are at raising your child! If you don’t believe me, walk into any bookstore or library and ask to see the “parenting section”. (Remember to take your GPS so you can eventually find your way out!).
Just for the heck of it, here is a common sense “suggestion” to those of you that lose sleep over your parenting skills:
- First and foremost, love your husband/wife and make sure you let your children see the devotion and respect you have for your spouse. Try not to argue in front of your young children (it makes them feel insecure, and perhaps at fault for the argument), but if harsh words do slip out, make sure the kids also witness the “I’m sorry”(s) and “Please forgive me”(s). Never miss an opportunity to say “I love you” and “I’m proud of you” to your partner. We do as we are taught, and loving words trickle down to the smallest of ears.
If I had to think of the things I want my children and grandchildren to remember about me as a parent, these items would probably make the short list:
* I love you with a fierceness that goes way beyond my words. I didn’t always “like” you and I get it that the feelings were (and still are) mutual. I don’t hold it against you, honest. You taught me so much more than I ever could teach you. Thank You.
- I love your father with every cell in my being. I credit almost every good and wonderful thing that has happened in my life to his love and patience with me. It hasn’t always been easy, but life and love were never promised to be. It sure has been damn spectacular at times! I wish for all of you a life-long partnership equal to and better than that of your Momma and Pappa, because then I’ll know you will be happy.
- As a parent, I screwed up often. You know it and I know it. So many times I desperately clung to the words of a pediatrician that assured me that “children seem to thrive in spite of their parents”. I didn’t believe him at the time, but he was obviously right.
- I was probably one of the first “helicopter parents”, though I knew at the time it pissed you off. It didn’t always keep you out of harm or trouble, but you knew I would be there waiting for that prodigal moment with my arms and heart open. There is nothing you can say (or do) that will ever stop me from loving you.
- None of you quite turned out the way I thought you would, which is okay, because you all superseded my grandest predictions. The best part? I still get excited when you visit or call to let me know what is happening in your life, knowing that the very best is yet to come! I believe in my heart that God has special things in store for all of you.
- Note to Grandchildren: The biggest regret I have in my life is that to date I haven’t quite been able to be the “participatory” grandmother I always wanted be if we lived closer. I still hold out hope that you will never forget that YOU are the first person I think of when I get up in the morning and the first person I pray for each night. You are the sunshine in my life, the smile on my face, and my love for you is …well, EPIC! Promise me that you will always remember how much I love and believe in you, even when you fail to believe in yourself.
(I guess I could go on and on, but then the kids would call in a panic, wondering if I was dying or or the real me was abducted by aliens!)
Additional:
When Did It Become Okay to Tell Others How to Parent? www.babble.com
While traveling with her three young children, one mom is confronted by a stranger questioning her parenting choices in public.
Free-range’ Kids and Our Parenting Police State For the second time, two children wound up in a police car for playing alone two blocks from their Silver Spring home. (Washington Post , April 13, 2015
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