Resilience

This image was selected as a picture of the week on the Malay Wikipedia for the 1st week, 2010. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Thinking about my teenagers and how they are going to fair when they "launch" is a preoccupation of mine. How will they handle the inevitable emotional, physical, and psychological tests of life?  I recently read an article on the issue but as it relates to whole families.  The Family Stories That Bind Us
describes how Dr. Marshall Duke, a psychologist at Emory University and colleague Robyn Fivush tested their theory that family stories build resilience in children.  They created a series of 20 questions linked to their families and how history, good and bad, got communicated. The result was that the more children knew about family stories the better they did when they had to face difficulties.
 The questions about their families were simple, basic things. From the article, " Examples included: Do you know where your grandparents grew up? Do you know where your mom and dad went to high school? Do you know where your parents met? Do you know an illness or something really terrible that happened in your family? Do you know the story of your birth?"

Within the group of children that knew their family history, the best results for resilience came from those who told what Duke called, an oscillating family narrative.  The oscillating stories go like this,  "Dear, let me tell you, we’ve had ups and downs in our family. We built a family business. Your grandfather was a pillar of the community. Your mother was on the board of the hospital. But we also had setbacks. You had an uncle who was once arrested. We had a house burn down. Your father lost a job. But no matter what happened, we always stuck together as a family. ”

When I worry about the heartache, cruelty and suffering that is possible in the world and how it might brush up against my sons, what I'm really thinking is "do they have what it takes?"  Have I shared enough to help them understand that the good AND the bad don't last forever? Do they know that their family will be a constant in the midst of whatever success or failure comes their way?  As parents, as people, we need to retell the stories of resilience so that we can repeat history (in a good way). 

Let Them Carry the Milk

English: Royal Mail rubber band, discarded in Alnmouth, Northumberland. (c) Tagishsimon (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

When our kids were two or three the temper tantrums came because they wanted to do things for themselves.  As parents, we wanted to do it for them because it was quicker, neater, better. How long should we be expected to wait for one little person to put on a pair of socks?!  Of course we needed to help.  There are more things to do in a day than dress one toddler, for Pete's sake!

Of course I wanted to scoop my son up and carry him like a baby when he was collecting ALL of the discarded rubber bands from the mailman's deliveries.  It was his latest collection but I just wanted to get some milk at the store.  Thirty minutes later we arrived at the store, one block away.  On the way home I wised up.  I gave him the gallon of milk to carry home (one block).  His hands were full, his muscles straining, he was too busy to collect rubber bands, or talk to neighborhood dogs.  He was too focused on his heavy load to walk the balance beams/sidewalk ledges along our neighbor's homes.  He didn't complain or feel punished.  He felt big.  Important.  Needed.

The danger with doing things for our wee ones when we want to go faster or be neater, is that we get stuck in that pattern of interaction, way past the time that it makes any sense.  I have seen 13 year olds have their food cut for them, their juice poured in the glass for them, their hair brushed, and clothes picked out.  This was not because of some household butler service.  It was because of a deep fear of spills and mishaps.  It was because of the involved adults' need for control or perhaps their own discomfort of seeing their "baby" growing up and not needing them anymore.

English: Gallon milk jugs – This photo is dedicated to a great wikipedian and an innovator in milk juggery. You know who you are. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have heard of college students who have no idea how to live within a budget because every bill is paid for by mom and/or dad.  A credit card for one set of expenses (bill going to the parents), a mortgage or rent check sent every month on their behalf, family cell phone plan with unlimited use, and of course a vehicle that comes mysteriously without any car or insurance payments. If you are doing these types of things, STOP.   Treating our young adults like children will leave them feeling hollow and unproductive.  If our high school or college or even adult children are gaming into the wee hours of the morning but unable to focus their abilities on keeping a paying job, it's time we hand them the metaphorical gallon of milk. 

Big changes can't happen overnight.  Some sort of change can happen immediately though. Find some thing to hand back over, to let go of, to make the "child" figure out.  Stop giving spending money.  Announce that the car will need to be retired and replaced by a fleet of public transit buses and trains. Give a time frame when bills and responsibilities are going to be handed back over for them to control.  Help develop a budget. There will be frustration and confusion at first.  It may be hard to watch the choices that get made initially.  Messing up or failing is not a crime. Let them try so that they can test their own abilities.  Let them fail so that they can learn how strong they truly are.

Turning Points - uno

I was thinking yesterday about pivotal moments in our family.  We had dinner with some new friends and the getting to know you conversation turned to children.  Theirs are grown and as we spoke they kept reflecting on their own memories.  I was touched when the father started talking about the trip he had taken to Paris with his daughter to celebrate her 40th birthday.  "I wanted to do something special with each of my children when they hit that age.  Something that they would remember.", he said.  He's planning an Alaska trip with his second daughter for next year, on her 40th. 

His story helped me relax a little and note that there will be a lifetime of opportunities to develop, teach, share, love, and nurture.  I don't have to squeeze it all in by the age of 18.  So many times I've thought that maybe one certain moment is the one that's going to make the difference, for good or bad.  I was convinced that on the day that I let my youngest son quit piano lessons, I was securing his place in a life of hardship.  I thought for sure that this had the power to create a life habit of giving up when things got hard, which would then lead to poor academics and hanging out instead, which of course would lead to him becoming an immediate gratification junkie or maybe just a drug addict in general.  He was 9.

Music guitar (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

He's 13 now and I've been listening to him play his guitar for the last hour or more, for pleasure.  Letting go of the piano was a turning point for him.  It was one of the first times that he asserted himself and articulated what he did or didn't want on anything of real importance.  It was also a turning point for me as a parent.  It was one of the first times that I had to figure out what the real issue was and articulate what the family values were that I was protecting.  We came to the realization that it wasn't piano that was important but rather having some type of arts training, something that wasn't available in their school at all.  I let him choose what would come next - dance?, guitar?, painting?  He chose guitar.  He's still had moments where he wanted to quit guitar but they have been moments of frustration, wishing that he could master a certain skill that's still out of reach.

I wonder where he would be with music now if I had dug in my heels and insisted on having him "hang in there".  I wonder how I would be feeling now if I had insisted that pressuring a 9 yr old into "my plan" was the most important, make or break parenting decision I was going to make.  These turning points are not moments where we make the "right" or "wrong" decisions but rather places where we turn, move, evolve.  There will be more chances to correct or improve on what we've chosen - long after they are 9 or 13 or 18 or 40.

Fessing Up

1970 Oldsmobile Vista-Cruiser (Photo credit: aldenjewell)

At the movies recently I saw a promo for a movie about stay-at-home dads.  They repeated several times to one of the newbies of the group that, "There's no judging."  That mantra was followed by a stream, a hilarious stream, of mistakes each of them had made or crazy things their children had done, while they were distracted. In each case, their children had survived.  I immediately thought of the day that I curiously tugged at the gear handle in our boat of a station wagon and started rolling the family tug down the gravel driveway.  I flashed on the morning that my 1 1/2 year old son opened the front door of the house by himself (we didn't know he could do that) and went for a walk, crossing two alleys and traveling 3 blocks before we found him.  No judging.

I  want to hear your own confessions.  I was raised Catholic and am ready to use this space for a little emotional purging.  What is the thing that you survived that still amazes?  The parenting mishaps/indiscretions that your own children survived?  I'm prepared to share a bunch of mine but it would be so much more fun if I wasn't the only one laughing at myself...

Sibling Memories: Letting Them Go

Sibling! (Photo credit: Gus Dahlberg)

I've highlighted some of the fun moments that I shared with my siblings this past weekend and now feel like I need to be honest about one of the not so fun moments - at least for me.  It was when I had to confess my jerkiness to my brother and apologize. Family dynamics, birth order, reactions to grief, geographic distance, and just simply having different personalities, means that my relationship to each of my siblings is different.  Over time, relationships that were awkward can feel nonexistent or icy if they are not tended.  Such was the case for me.

As I sat enjoying the company of my two brothers and two sisters this past weekend, I had a mini epiphany.  Listening to stories of childhood moments, present day struggles and joys, and future hopes led me to the basic realization - we're all just doing our best.   There are things that I regret in my own life and mistakes that I've made.  My brother is the same.  I realized, as I sat listening to his hopes for his marriage and his conversations with his children, that I really owed him an apology.  In my own mind, I had been replaying a sequence of events between him and his family from over a decade ago, keeping him frozen in time.  It was embarrassing to own. 

It was humbling to see how small I could be and how easy it was for me to drift away from my brother.   I realized that I needed to let go of some of my memories.  Holding on to images of our younger selves, trying to find our way, sorting out our priorities, rebuilding our lives after major loss was not fair.  The real truth is that my aloof, emotionally distant approach to my brother was hypocritical.  My own behavior wasn't modeling anything healthy or loving.  Things happen in relationships that we regret, or that make us angry or sad.  We have to be vigilant and know what our memories are preserving.  Some memories we just need to let go of.

Can you imagine letting go of some of your memories - memories that are holding someone in your life in a freeze frame?  Or, if not let go, then allowing space for new memories to be added? 

"Children Learn What They Live"

When I was a kid my parents had this wood plaque with a poem on parenting that was a fixture in our home.  At the time, I knew that it held a lot of wisdom and was grateful that my parents, for all of their faults, found it important to hang such a poem in their home.  There are many versions, but this is the one that I saw growing up:

Children Learn What They Live (1969)
BY DOROTHY LAW NOLTE

Image via Wikipedia

If a child lives with criticism,
He learns to condemn.
If a child lives with hostility,
He learns to fight.
If a child lives with ridicule,
He learns to be shy.
If a child lives with shame,
He learns to feel guilty.
If a child lives with tolerance,
He learns to be patient.
If a child lives with encouragement,
He learns confidence.
If a child lives with praise,
He learns to appreciate.
If a child lives with fairness,
He learns justice.
If a child lives with security,
He learns to have faith.
If a child lives with approval,
He learns to like himself.
If a child lives with acceptance and friendship,
He learns to find love in the world.

I thought about this poem a lot this past weekend.  I traveled to be with family and honor and remember my husband's uncle who died.  It was a great time of stories and reunion, mixed in with profound sadness.  Lots of people were talking about their childhood memories and the ways that their experiences shaped and scarred them.  It was a time to reconnect and to be reminded of the ties that bind. I'm back home now, in my own routine, and am ruminating on a series of interactions with one specific relative. 

No matter what topic was raised, no matter the time of day, no matter the age of the person that they spoke to, negative, critical, and disagreeable commentary spewed from their tongue.  My reaction was typical annoyance and frustration, replaced soon by anger and now as some distance is provided, pity.  All I can think of now, is the level of criticism that someone must have endured to turn them so negative.  This morning I rise and send up a prayer of thanksgiving for my flawed and loving parents.  I dig deep and send up a prayer for the broken and wounded bullies too.

Asking the "village" - Saving for therapy or bail

Lucy and her "five-cents-please" psychiatric help booth as depicted at Universal Studios in Osaka, Japan. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

There was a time when I only half jokingly looked at my two boys and then back at myself and determined that instead of saving for college, we should instead save for future therapy bills and bail money.  I can say that in this public forum, because now I look at my two sons and am truly amazed by both of them.  They know that I am in awe of their present day selves and that I must have been forced back then, at gunpoint, to say such things.  In fact, I was just an awfully sleep deprived, mildly depressed, mom of  a toddler and preschooler who couldn't seem to believe that the whole thing (meaning their very lives) was going to turn out all that well with me at the helm.

As suspected, when I raised the question about what other people felt was on their parenting test, the fear of "ruining" our kids and specifically, "parental screw-up induced therapy" (I'm coining that), came up.  After thinking about all the funny or self-deprecating things I could say on this topic, I changed my mind.  What I decided is this, if you are a person who is taking time to read blogs and then spend even 2 seconds reflecting on ideas from other parents, as they relate to your parenting, you should shake off your fears.  You are awesome!  We all survived our own childhoods.  I'm pretty sure my parents did a quick skim of Dr. Spock and left it at that for the entirety of all five of our childhoods.  Some of us were lucky and had parents who were super great and guess what?  Some of those lucky people still go to therapy (not that it's a bad thing, some of my favorite people go to therapy). 

The interesting thing for me about my therapy or bail quandary was that I was thinking of the choice because of how different my boys were at the time.  I knew I wasn't going to screw them up in the same way because they are not the same.  I had one son who couldn't get enough hugs, hand holds, kisses, and lap sits even though I was completely touched out from the demands of a little one and breastfeeding.  There were days when I felt like I was actually rejecting him.  The other boy didn't need the touch as much as he needed structure and physical activity.  Again, a problem for me on those days (too many it seemed), when I just wanted a very long nap or at least another viewing of Elmopalooza while I stretched out horizontal on the couch.

Cut to the present day and I'm proud to proclaim that I have beautiful, talented, caring, truly amazing, and still very different boys.  I honestly don't know how it worked out.  Kids are pretty resilient though and deep down they can tell if we love them or not.  It turns out that we can make a ton of mistakes and be normal, imperfect people.  What does seem to work really, really, really well is when we figure out how to love them more than we love being right, or more than we love approval from our family or neighbors, or more than our own self-image.  We probably should just save for our own therapy.  All of our anxiety about our choices and parenting style boil down to us trying to finish our own stuff.   Drop the anxiety.  Embrace your imperfection.  Love.  That's what your kids want from you, that and another hug, and a bike ride, and a new toy, and a.....

Asking the "village" - background check vs. gut check

This blog emerged, in part, because I felt like I needed a place to be honest about all this parenting and general life stuff.  We've been told to avoid politics and religion as conversation starters in mixed company, but for me the list was much larger.  School choices, chore schedules, organic food, fast food, sleepovers, and even Christmas presents are some of the innocent topics over which I have imposed self-censorship in some way or another.  If I'm honest, will the other parent think I'm judging them?  If I'm honest, will they judge me? One of my hopes for this blog is that those conversations might happen honestly.   If we are all honest we might find some comfort in the simple reality that we are all struggling with choices, filled with regret and pride, and doing our very best to care for our loved ones.

Yesterday, I asked you all what questions were on your "parenting test".  What are the choices that pick at you?  One response came that I'm calling the background check vs. gut check dilemma.  Here it is:

"I just had a question in my mind today and thought 'I wish I could ask other parents about this.' so here it is: We just moved and our new neighbors kid invited our son over to play and we just let him go to their house for a few hours. All I know about them is what the parents do for a living, that they have a dog, and they brought us cookies the first day we moved in. Shouldn't I have had the parents over for dinner or done some more investigating before I let our son go over there? Without overreacting and looking paranoid, how do we keep our kids safe in a world where even trusted teachers and family members end up hurting children?"

Now one way we could approach this is to recall all of the CSI/Criminal Intent/ER/Law & Order/ episodes we've watched and definitively respond that the world is a dangerous place beyond measure.  Therefore, you are stupid beyond measure to ever leave your child with someone who hasn't been thoroughly background checked and drug screened, checked for gun ownership and parental screens on their cable, and had the home scoured for violent video games and pornography.  If your kids are older, you can add checking for proof of any adult presence whatsoever and the size of their liquor cabinet. 

What I think actually happens, is that we ruminate on all of the stuff above and then give in to reality (how busy or tired we are or how embarrassed we are to ask our neighbor if they own guns) and let our children do many things that still leave us feeling nervous.  We are always going to be a little nervous.  What is important is that we pay attention to our gut.  When the next door neighbors handed over the plate of cookies and talked to us for 2 minutes, how did we feel?  Were there any immediate red flags?  Are our kids excited about the play date or quiet and anxious?

For me, the problem was the safety of the home and specifically hand gun violence.  I live in a big city and it seemed like a possibility that weapons might be present and in the hands of very nice, yet defense-minded people.  It also felt really gross to ask the parents of my kid's friends if they had guns in their home as a conversation starter.  My sons were excited to go visit, but I would feel like my worrying about other people's feelings was putting my kids in danger.  I did let them go to visit new people who were very, very new to me.  I also said "no" at times.  After picking up my son at one friend's house I spotted the little discarded nub of a joint on their porch. I assumed that it was not left by a postal carrier but never confronted the family about it. The kid wasn't a close friend so we just planned for their time together to be at school events or public places after that.

Here's the thing, if you do the gut check and you let your kids leave your sight without the level of screening that you think is ideal, it's not a permanent, set in stone, for all time decision.  We can't keep our kids safe from all bad things or bad people, but we can listen to them and their experiences and make adjustments based on that.  You are still going to talk about what they did at Johnny's house and evaluate how they behave when they return home.  You can still thank the family that first extended the invite by having them over for coffee or dinner and serving up your own batch of cookies - maybe in the shape of handguns and peace signs, just to help get the conversation going.

Emergency?

Pg 197 Xray of Adult hand (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Last night I took my son to the emergency room.  You know the one, the juggler.  Two weeks ago he was running, fell, and then landed on his hand.  Nothing was poking out and he was able to move it so we applied ice, gave him Ibuprofen, and went about life.  A week later he left the same hand in a door jam while he closed the door.  Still, after ice and TLC he seemed fine.  Fast forward to last night and he can't practice guitar because applying pressure on the frets hurts too much....

You can imagine the string of bad names I called myself.  What kind of mother lets her child's injury go untended for two weeks?  How many doctors are going to give me the stink eye when I take him to the emergency room (I called his pediatrician and he agreed that x-rays were the only way to tell what was going on)?  So we trotted off to the ER, just in time for the evening rush.  This is not about ER drama or frustration though.  The staff were all great and we were even offered free sandwiches by a Pastoral Care intern!

This is about self-doubt.  My first instinct was to trust my gut and say that he needed time to rest and heal.  It turns out I was right.  The x-rays came back and showed healthy and whole digits.  They did stabilize his fingers with a nicer splint than what I had in the first aid kit and referred us to a Pediatric Bone Doctor/Surgeon!  That's right, they told me he was ok and then referred me to a specialist.  Here's how the conversation went,

Doctor: "So x-ray doesn't show any breaks.  We're going to put it in a splint and have you follow up with a specialist in a week.  Sometimes in young kids their bones are still growing  (something about a growth plate) so everything doesn't show up on a regular x-ray."
Mom: "So what will the specialist recommend for treatment if there is some trauma to the growth plate?"
Doctor:  "They'll put it in a splint and have him rest it more."
Mom:  "So he'll go to a specialist and have a fancy x-ray and then be told to do the same thing that you just did?"
Doctor: "Right."

How can we ever be expected to trust our guts when it comes to our own kids?  The conversation above is not made up and the entire message was given with a straight face, on the doctor's part, at least.  I don't know what I'm really trying to say here except this - do your best.  Sometimes we make the wrong call but even when we're right, there will be someone dropping little bits of doubt in you. 

I don't plan on taking him to the Pediatric Bone doctor (unless someone gives me some good reasons) but I'm sure I'll be wondering the rest of the month if I made the right decision.

#!?&*%! Moments

After two happy memory posts I figured it was best to show another side of my parenting experiences.  Trust me, it's not all  Hallmark moments.  In fact, just last night I had the "opportunity" to be tested and managed to both fail and pass.

We had spent the night at a Mardi Gras fundraiser at a friend's church.  (The main thing to remember about this story is the last word in the previous sentence.)  My friend offered to send us home with some of the leftover jambalaya AND gumbo and I jumped at the chance.  My hands were full with other items plus the car keys and so I of course enlisted the help of my children (cue ominous music).

My youngest (13 yr old) is a fabulous, multi-talented,  playful guy.  One of his many talents is juggling (cue shower scene music from "Psycho").  Knowing my son well, I prefaced my request for help with, "Just hold it for me. No juggling."  Some of you may think that statement would be unusual or unnecessary.  I can only say that there was a time (about 13 years ago), when I also would have thought it unnecessary.  In fact, I said it twice because after the initial statement, I saw my son flip the leftover container over his neck. 

As the words of the second plea were crossing my lips, I saw it.  First, a missed catch, then a wobble into the other hand, a frantic third attempt and then finally free fall to the floor.  Shrimp jambalaya splayed on the indoor-outdoor carpeting of the church foyer.  I looked up at my son and said in an angry but not screaming voice, "Get out. Go outside.  I can't be with you right now."

I knelt down and scooped up the rice from the very forgiving carpeting, threw the mess in the garbage, gathered our lighter load, and headed to the car.  Once there, I took a deep breath and asked my son in a very calm voice, "Do you know what upset me just now?"  Surprisingly, he did.  "You're upset because I ignored you."

"That's exactly right.  When you ignore me like that it feels like a big f. you."  Now, even though I only used the initial "F", it still felt wrong.  It wasn't a proud moment for me.  Being honest with my feelings with my kids is important but being honest in the heat of the moment is rarely insightful.  On the good side, I didn't belabor the incident with him or try to shame him at length for being such a twerp.  I also didn't let out my full frustration in public where he might have been embarrassed in front of his friends.  On the not so good side, I counted to 2 or 3 before talking to him instead of the full "recommended" 10 and my phrasing showed why it's good not to rush these conversations.  I passed and I failed.  I could have done worse and I could have done a whole lot better.  Like most days.