Showing posts with label Free Range Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Free Range Parenting. Show all posts

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Podcast #5: Free Range Parenting

Hooray hooray hooray! Podcast #5 is up! (Click here to go to the podcast website to download it directly to your player.)

This time, we have:

  • Situation of the Week (Jenn): Dealing with pointless bickering
  • Topic: Free Range Parenting (begins 4:26)
  • Q&A: Childhood Fears (begins 18:45)

One thing we forgot to do was mention Lenore Skenazy by name! (Lenore, should you ever happen upon this post and podcast, sorry!) She is the woman who kicked off the Free Range Kids movement (is it a movement?). Her website is: http://freerangekids.com. Her book is called Free-Range Kids, How to Raise Safe, Self-Reliant Children (Without Going Nuts with Worry).

We also talked about a wonderful book by Gavin De Becker, which has great common sense ideas for teaching kids to be safety-conscious (without freaking them out unnecessarily). His book is called Protecting the Gift: Keeping Children and Teenagers Safe (and Parents Sane).



Thanks for listening!


Monday, February 1, 2010

Free Range Parenting Blog Post

originally posted at Reepicheep's Coracle

I loved this blog post. I wish the writer of it was my neighbor. She has it totally right about our culture of fear and how we should be living instead. If Livy isn't one day able to walk home from less than 2 miles away, I may have to sell her to the gypsies and get a cat. They can always get home, right?

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

New Milestone for Livy

originally posted at Reepicheep's Coracle


For those of you who don't know, I love and follow the blog Free Range Kids. The free range idea is to allow kids as much freedom as possible in the world, encouraging independence, and not being a hovering, neurotic parent who, by worrying and restricting, prevents kids from enjoying the kind of lives many of us enjoyed as children. Check it out.

Anyway, today at the grocery store, Livy reached a really cool milestone that makes me feel like she is getting so grown up. I gave her items off the list, and she went by herself through the store to find them and bring them back. She absolutely loved it! She felt so important, and she talked about it later with me and Aaron. She was able to do things I didn't think she could, like figure out which price label is for blueberries and which for blackberries and come to tell me the prices so we could decide which to get. She looked for the word "whole" to find the right milk. It was such an amazing moment for both of us.

Those of you who aren't parents are probably thinking, "Why on earth is that a big deal?" The thing is that most parents wouldn't let a 5 1/2 year old out of their sight, even in a safe grocery store in a safe neighborhood. Of course, I prepared Livy. We have talked about what to do if you get lost (first, look for me, duh, and then if you still can't find me nearby, find a mommy with kids or a lady without kids and ask for help) and what to do if anyone tries to get you to leave the store without me (scream, run away, yell "this is not my mommy or daddy!"). She was also prepared for this occasion by all the time she spent out in the world with me, watching me live life sensibly, instead of in school or daycare (Though I do think that conscientious parents can still raise reasonable free range kids who are in school or daycare, I just think it is harder work to undo the dependence.) She knows that the world is generally safe because she has spent lots of time in it. She knows how to behave in a grocery store because she has spent time in one. And, when the time comes, she will know how to be an independent person in the world without her mommy because she will have spent time practicing that while still in my household.

Sunday, May 31, 2009

Sunday Parenting Round Up (Plus Bonus Ramblings!)

(Originally posted at Rational Jenn)

Hi everyone! I hope you are having a nice weekend. We are experiencing our first really lovely weekend weather in a while. The summery weather is just gorgeous, and it's not truly hot yet (yay).

Unfortunately, Morgan has been sick since Friday evening, when she developed a fever and fell asleep at the free concert we attended! She woke up and was able to enjoy some of the songs, but we ended up leaving a bit early, poor thing. Nobody else is sick--and M's only symptom is this fever--but I'm nervous about Sean getting sick. He and I are supposed to head to California on Thursday for my grandfather's memorial service. But there is nothing I can do about it, so I'm trying not to borrow trouble.

Since we've been hanging around the house all weekend, I've managed to get more decrapifying accomplished. And that is a good feeling! And I've been thinking, thinking, thinking, too--another good feeling.


Oh the Thinks I've been Thinking!

I've been keeping up with the excellent discussion in the comments section of the TV post over at The Little Things. Very interesting to think about. (The discussion is a continuation of the one begun over here on my television post.) It's worth taking the time to read through, if you are interested in parenting and epistemology. Which, you know, I am. :o) I'm especially interested in anyone's thoughts on the most recent comment I wrote, in which I said:


"To return to the issue of focus, here’s a question I’ve been pondering all week–can small children really even be out of focus? I’ve never seen a bored toddler, so I am wondering if the state of being unfocused on reality is something that kids have to (unfortunately) learn."
[Here comes some thinking out loud--beware: semi-formed thoughts ahead]

Seriously--I have never met a bored toddler. Even my own kids are never bored. Is that a stage kids reach at an age older than 7, in which case, we have yet to encounter it here? I'm wondering if boredom is a learned thing, something that happens when a child grows accustomed to having adults plan his activities for him? (I realize that boredom is not the same thing as being unfocused, but I think they might be next door neighbors.) Anyway, this is something I've been chewing on--the notion that a person being unfocused, in the way Ayn Rand described:

one who can ". . . let himself drift in a semiconscious daze, merely reacting to any chance stimulus of the immediate moment, at the mercy of his undirected sensory-perceptual mechanism and of any random, associational connections it might happen to make." (Ayn Rand, The Virtue of Selfishness)


--is something that must be learned. That kids, once they become conceptual (or maybe before?), are rarely or never out of focus--not that I've observed. Their attention is turned on and their minds are active. Now, not being fully mature, maybe the quality of a child's mental focus differs from an adult's--I don't think a small child will have an awareness that "I am purposefully directing my mental activity." in the same sense an adult would. Anyway, interesting.

[end semi-formed rambling (yet focused!) thoughts]

You can leave your thoughts here or at Amy's.


Other Parenting Ramblings From Me


Kelly has a terrific post up over at her blog: "Only Make Limits They Show You They Need." It's a parenting principle that I agree with, and I'm glad Kelly figured out how to put it into words. Go read her post right now--great. I think one of the parenting principles I've identified--what I call "Err on the Side of Freedom." is actually a corollary or companion to this one (could it also be called "Set Only Necessary Limits"?).

To take a concrete example I recently wrote about--the day when Ryan did not want to drink water after playing outside in the heat for several hours--I saw that Ryan needed this limit, for his own health and safety. We do not have a set rule along the lines of : "You must drink water every 30 minutes when playing outside." Because such a rule isn't generally necessary. But on that particular afternoon, I saw that Ryan needed help taking care of his body, and that's when I set the limit : "Drink or go inside." Now if this became a consistent thing he needed help with, then we might make some kind of blanket guideline--but I'd do that only if it were necessary.

Now sometimes, it's not quite clear if a limit should be set. On that afternoon, I first noticed how hot Ryan was looking, but I didn't immediately tell him to get a drink. First I weighed all of the information I knew about the situation: I noticed how hot it was; I figured out how long he had really been outside; I took into account his difficulty in stopping his activities to take care of his body; I recalled that I hadn't seen him go inside the house (where the water is). In this instance, the limit clearly had to be set by me, and we had our discussion.

But what if the factors had been a bit different? What if he had only been playing for a short while, or the weather had been cooler? Then I might have reminded him to drink some water and then given him a chance to do the right thing. This is erring on the side of freedom. If I am making an error in whether or not a limit ought to be set, then I'd rather it be the result of my not setting the limit, giving him the freedom and opportunity to handle the (potential) problem independently. In these circumstances, there would have been much less of a risk of dehydration, and so I would have rather he demonstrate to me whether he could make the appropriate choice.

The advantage to the child of Mom not setting preemptive limits and/or waiting just a little bit longer before setting a limit is, as I mentioned, that it gives the kid a chance to make an independent choice. Now he might make a good choice, or he might make a bad choice. Either choice is going to have some results that he will then experience. The advantage to Mom is that sometimes I get to see someone rise to the occasion and handle something just fine--and I might not have been aware of the child's capabilities until I saw that. Also, if there is a failure or negative outcome, Mr. Reality is at fault and not me--the child is not (as) tempted to make it personal against me. Which I enjoy very much. So a parental preemptive strike carries parent-imposed consequences, which I think are inferior to reality-imposed consequences (all things being equal).

The trick, as ever, is figuring out those gray areas. Once again, just because I think there may be a bit of confusion on this matter still--I am not a permissive parent, and I'd never let the kids do anything seriously dangerous, because I like them an awful lot and went to quite a bit of time and trouble to grow them and all. We hold hands in crowded parking lots and walk with the blades of the scissors closed, pointed down, and in our hands. It is a struggle for me to Err on the Side of Freedom and to Set Only Necessary Limits--but with years of practice, I'm pretty good at it. Well, better than I was.


And Just a Couple More Parenting Links

I have Motherlode, the parenting blog of the New York Times, on my Google Reader. For the most part, it doesn't impress me too much--I rarely find anything new or interesting. The purpose of the blog seems to be nothing more than a way for the NYT to say: "See? We care about parenting! See how it's here on our website?" The blog author, Lisa Belkin, says all of the predictable things about all of the predictable parenting topics. Very uninspiring.

Usually I just skim the posts and just when I think "Bored Now." and consider deleting it from my Reader, something of interest will pop up. So without further complaint, here is a link to The End of Over-Parenting? where Belkin writes about the apparent shift in parenting trend (I'm not sure if I could rightly call it 'parenting philosophy') away from so-called "helicopter parents" to, well, parents who parent more like me! I guess I'm a "free-range parent." I like that, but I'd like to think I'm a "rational parent" and my kids are "free-range kids." ;)

And finally, I learned about this article in The New Yorker about kids and self-control via the Objectivist Kid. I remember learning about the Marshmallow Experiment somewhere along the way, don't you? Kids were given a choice: one marshmallow now, or two marshmallows in a few minutes. The same researchers who performed the original study back in the 60s noticed a correlation between the patient kids and how successful they became later in life and are now in the process of trying to figure out where in the brain the ability to delay gratification lies, and how to teach techniques to kids and adults to help them improve their self-control. That was a very brief overview of the article, and it's possible I've misstated or misunderstood something (I read it all the way yesterday and that was a long time ago), but really, it's fascinating. Particularly since I am always thinking about how to help my own kids develop inner discipline. Go check it out!

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

On Children, Television, and Freedom in General

(Originally posted at Rational Jenn)

When I took Ryan and Morgan to their respective pediatric appointments some weeks ago, I was asked by the nurse if I limited their television and computer time. I answered in the vague affirmative (“Yes, we monitor it.”) because I know from experience that providing any answer that starkly departs from the expected “Yes we are extremely strict about television.” will result in an unwelcome lecture to me by the nurse and/or doctor. I hate getting lectured. Especially when the subject is really none of the lecturer’s business.

The honest truth is that we have no restrictions about television or computers here. We handle this issue in pretty much the same way as the food issue (see yesterday’s post On Food and Freedom). As we provide them with a healthy stash of food to choose from, the kids also have a huge stack of parent-approved movies and tv shows from which to choose, and they can watch them whenever they please.

The only reason I ever really need to get involved is when they are having a dispute over movie or computer time. On those occasions, I help them negotiate a plan for using the Big TV on the Wall (see Kids Handling Conflict for information about how I do this.) or the computer. Sometimes, they’ll settle on a system for taking turns. Other times, one of them will choose to watch something on the computer, or upstairs. Every once in a while, someone will be scared by a movie, and we’ll stop it and figure out a new plan. (It’s not kind to watch something scary to someone else on the Big Wall right in front of them.)

And here’s the thing—which my pediatrician would maybe not believe—my kids do not spend every waking moment watching movies or playing on the computer. Complete freedom to choose what—or if—to watch movies does not result in children who never budge from the lure of the Big Wall. (And this happens to be one area where Ryan doesn’t seem to need any parental assistance—yay.)

I’ve noticed their electronic media moods ebb and flow. Sometimes, the movies are playing all day long, or the kid is parked in front of the computer for hours (that kid would usually be Morgan). This will occasionally last for days. Then there are other times when nobody thinks to turn on a movie—for days. And many days we’ll watch a show or two and then move on. Sometimes if the movies have been playing too much and it’s driving me nuts, I’ll suggest a walk or something else. But I’ve come to trust that their interests will change to something else if I just give them a bit of time. And you know what? They always do move on to something else.

I personally very much enjoy the fact that I don’t need to set timers or pay attention to their electronic media usage, since they make very good decisions about how often and what to watch.

What happens at my house is another example of kids being free to make choices within some very broad limits set by their parents (in this instance, we approve the movies they are allowed to watch) and they not making bad choices over and over. These kids are not slaves to their whims because there are no restrictions on tv. Instead, they have learned to manage this activity on their own and are in no danger of their becoming couch potatoes.

Besides, I really dislike how electronic media is portrayed as somehow inherently bad for you. As with most things, I suppose, overindulgence over a long period of time would be unhealthy. But it’s just interesting to me that the doctor doesn’t ask me if I limit the kid’s time playing outside or building in the sandbox or reading books. Watching movies and playing on the computer is entertaining and sometimes—frequently, actually—educational.

Combine the idea that tv and computers are somehow guilty pleasures that overindulgent parents allow their children to participate in with the idea that kids will tend to make bad choices when given the chance to make any choice and that would explain this little bit of interrogation I get to experience when I take the kids in for their physicals.

****

And here are a few more posts about free-range kids and positive discipline that might interest you:

Letting Go of your Children at Portland Family Currently Speaking

and

A Positive Discipline Moment at Principled Parent

and

Tantrums and Principles at The Little Things

and

Positive Discipline John and Ansley

and

A conversation about parenting I took part in over the weekend on Noodlefood’s Sunday Open Thread.

Good stuff, so go read those posts!

Monday, May 25, 2009

On Food and Freedom

(Originally posted at Rational Jenn)

Someone recently asked me about how we handle mealtimes around here, and whether or not I have any overly picky kids when it comes to eating. This post has been half-written for a while now, so it’s time to put it out there.

I expect that many people will be surprised by how we handle food (or if not surprised, might disagree with our strategies). My kids have quite a bit of freedom to self-regulate their eating—they choose what to eat and when to eat it. Our strategies may require a bit of a paradigm shift for some of my readers—the way we handle food and mealtimes is certainly different from how I envisioned it before I had kids.

Wrongheaded Notions

I have recently figured out some wrongheaded ideas that got stuck in my head as a child that I think has really contributed to my attitudes about food and mealtimes. It’s strange that I figured this out so late in life, but I think it was having the kids and learning how to teach them to handle their hunger rationally that made me finally identify two incorrect premises in my head. The first wrong idea is that you have to “clean your plate.” As a child, we were encouraged and praised for cleaning our plate, referred to as members of the Clean Plate Club, and chastised for being wasteful if there was food left on our plate. As a consequence, it is still very hard for me to leave food on my plate. The other wrong idea is that you should only eat at designated mealtimes. There must be a breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and those must be about 4 hours apart. If it’s been 4 hours since breakfast, then I automatically start planning lunch—whether or not I feel hungry.

Listening to the Signals of your Body

Starting from the time they were babies and we did on-demand nursing, I wanted my kids to be in tune with the signals of their bodies—to recognize them and respect them. I don’t want them to eat because it’s time to eat or because their plate isn’t empty yet. I want them to notice their hunger signals, satisfy them in a healthy way, and stop when they are feeling full. So we don;t do the Clean Plate Club around here, and sometimes we eat many little snacks or just a couple of larger meals.

I can’t know when their bodies are sending them hunger signals—but I do notice outward hunger signs (crabbiness). My job as Mom isn’t to tell them when to eat, but rather to help them notice their signals and I do that by saying things like, “Hmmm…I noticed it’s been a while since you ate something, and it seems difficult for you to stop whining. Is your body telling you to eat?”

There are a few circumstances in which I’ll strongly suggest they eat something. For example, I do encourage them to eat a snack before we head out to ballet or taekwondo, but I don’t generally push the issue too much. They have each made bad decisions in this regard and a gentle reminder “Do you remember how yucky you feel after taekwondo when you don’t eat a snack beforehand?” will typically send them heading toward the fridge.

We also never encourage them to “clean their plates.” The more I think about this, the more I’m amazed that this was something my parents encouraged! I think the sentiment came from the idea of not wanting to waste food (my grandparents lived through The Great Depression, so maybe this was impressed on my parents when they were children?). But it is simply not a good idea to eat past the point where your body is sending you “full” signals. As a child, we were not allowed a dessert unless our plates were clean—so not only did I eat too much dinner, I also ate my dessert on top of it, because no one is ever too full for dessert! Bad, bad habits. My primary focus these days for myself is only to eat when I’m feeling hungry.

Choosing Healthy Food

Choosing healthy things to eat is also a life skill that kids ought to learn. As with everything else in childhood, it’s a good time to practice these skills. One side effect of not restricting what they eat is that I personally have a strong incentive to keep lots of the kinds of foods I would prefer them to choose readily available. I can’t really blame them for filling up at the all-you-can-eat-crap-buffet, since I’m the one who does the grocery shopping.

Allowing them pretty much free reign of the kitchen was not something we have always done—it’s been a gradual transition over the last few years. When we first eased up on the food restrictions, there was a period of time where the kids, free to choose what to eat, filled up on the not-so-healthy things we had in our house first. I think this was partly out of the novelty of being able to do so, and also partly as a test to see if we were really serious about it. Now I wouldn’t put them in charge of the grocery shopping completely, since I value all of us eating good stuff, and I know they don’t have the information or judgment to make the best choices for us. But I know that in general, keeping healthy and not-so-healthy things in the house, the kids have made and will continue to make healthy choices—because their bodies feel better when they do. (That’s me helping them put the “rational” in “rational self-interest,” see?)

I do pay attention to what and how much they eat, just to make sure they continue to make good choices. One good suggestion my pediatrician made regarding kids and food was to look at what they ate over the course of a week instead of each day or even each meal. When I think about all of the different things they’ve eaten over the course of the last week, I know that they ate lots of protein and fat and fruits and vegetables and popsicles. Trying to focus on getting kids to eat vegetables (for example) at each and every meal would be quite a battle—a battle that might not need to happen if tomorrow they happen to go on a green bean kick.

I am the primary shopper in our family, so I make most of the food decisions. But I will honor requests if I can. I always solicit input into the current grocery list, and I’ll usually get popsicles if they request them. Sometimes I’ll turn their requests down—right now I’m not buying any cereal because about half of it seems to end up on the kitchen floor and I hate paying money for food that I also have to sweep up. Also, I’m not as inclined to buy popsicles next time since they have developed a habit of leaving them out on the kitchen table to melt into a sticky mess.

The Picky Child

That would be my Ryan. Beginning at about age 3, he began to be very picky about what he ate, which can be stressful for the parents as well as the kid, who picks up on that stress. I wonder if the picky stage was influenced by the peanut allergy, if our many discussions about Ryan-safe food scared him a bit. It was the advent of Battles about Eating that got me reexamining my premises about feeding my kids. Before we had Battles, we pretty much just plopped food down in front of him and he ate it. We generally let him eat on his schedule, but looking back, I know we focused too much on eating at designated mealtimes.

The way I handled my picky child was to make a conscious effort not to stress about it; started him on vitamins (just in case he was missing some important nutrients); always offered him lots of choices; continued to introduce and reintroduce new foods to him; tried not to show how excited I was when he did try something new (since he’s the sort to view such parental activity suspiciously and rebel).

In the last year, he has really matured out of his pickiness. He has branched out into the world of steak (yay!) and other sources of protein (he tended to not eat enough protein, IMO). He still refuses yogurt in any form, but will consume hardboiled eggs and bacon like nobody’s business. The other night he asked me to try some grilled asparagus, saying “I want to try it, just in case I might like it.” (YAY!) He didn’t like it—but he tried it! He does has quite a sweet tooth and he does need my help in using an appropriate amount of honey (for instance) on his morning waffle.

Independence in the Kitchen

I don’t know what took me so long to think of this, but last spring I rearranged our pantry and kitchen a bit to make it easier for Morgan and Ryan to be independent in getting their own snacks. I did it out of a need for my own self-preservation: with a new baby on the way, I knew I wouldn’t be as able to help get snacks for the Big Kids—at least, not in a timely manner. It was a stroke of (belated) brilliance—I moved all of the Big Kid food to the lower shelves of the pantry and took all of the plastic kid plates and bowls and cups and moved them to a bin in a low cabinet.

These days, both kids can prepare their own food, for the most part. Morgan mostly needs help in the lid-opening category. They pour their own drinks (water or milk), make their own chocolate milk, grab a piece of string cheese or a hardboiled egg, help themselves to grapes or canteloupe, toast their own waffles. It is so lovely.

Keeping a Running Dialogue about Healthy Eating

One thing that we rarely talked about when I was a child was the nutritional content of food, or really even the purpose of food. My mom was on a serious organic kick when I was a child, and I think I certainly benefited from lots of good homemade unprocessed food (and I’ve got the wisdom teeth to prove it, for you WAPF fans!). But our food was never talked about beyond a “eat all the healthy food on your plate or you can’t have dessert.”

Our focus is on being “big and healthy and strong.” And then we try to get the kids to understand what we’re saying by providing them with a way they can focus on their experiences. “Too much candy will not make you big and healthy and strong and it might make your tummy hurt.” or “Broccoli has vitamins in it to help your body stay big and healthy and strong.” When they ask, we’ll look up just what vitamins are in broccoli—they don’t need to understand all the ins and outs of biochemistry yet—but they like knowing which vitamins are in which kinds of food. They also refer to playing outside as “making some vitamin D.”

We have a couple of kid nutrition books, but mostly they promote the government’s food pyramid, which I think is actually really unhealthy. We have talked with the Big Kids in a general manner about what kinds of nutrients are in the food they are eating: “Meat has lots of protein and your body uses protein to build muscles.” or “Did you know that your body is mostly made out of water, so water is the best thing for your body to drink?”

When they are staring into the fridge, I’ll ask “Are you feeling hungry? Is your body telling you it wants food?” If they are fooling around at the end of their snack/meal, I will ask “Are you feeling full? Is your stomach telling you not to put any more food in your body just now? It is? Okay, then take your plate to the sink.”

I am not a Short-Order Cook

Becoming free from the need always to eat at a designated mealtime, combined with the freedom and independence the kids have in the kitchen, has quite the wonderful side effect for me—your hunger is not necessarily my problem. It was easy for me to fall into the short-order-cook trap when Ryan was a toddler. I got so used to preparing a Ryan Meal that it almost became habit. Apart from being more work for me, though, I inadvertently was limiting his choices by not giving him a chance to eat what Brendan and I were eating. Which possibly contributed to his general pickiness about food. Sigh—we make most of our mistakes on the eldest, don’t we?

These days, when I do take the trouble to make a real-live meal (something in the crock pot, or grilled out, usually), I’ll of course make enough for the kids. (I do always try to make something I know they like.) But if they don’t want to eat what I made, then it’s really no problem—for me. They are more than capable of making themselves a meal out of yogurt and fruit and cheese and pepperoni (to name one of Morgan’s favorite meals). Or make a piece of toast with almond butter. Or grab a hardboiled egg. What (or if) they eat is not generally my problem, outside of making sure to have healthy food that I think they’ll eat on hand for them to choose from. In other words, I’m more than happy to make reasonable accommodations—but I’m not your waitress or chef and my kitchen is not a restaurant where you get to place an order. :o)

When Guidance is Necessary

Sometimes, though, we do guide or encourage them to eat certain foods over others, or restrict them completely. But, in keeping with our general parenting principle of having a few limits as possible, we try not to have very many food limitations.

As you probably know, we do have one very big food restriction in our home: no peanuts. This is, of course, non-negotiable, as it’s literally a matter of life or death for Ryan. Now that Morgan has been tested and we know for sure that she is NOT allergic to peanuts, I anticipate a time in the future when we could maybe possibly have peanut products in our house. Waaayy in the future—when the kids are teenagers perhaps. We can at least discuss the matter. But for now, Ryan’s safety takes precedence, and the logistics of managing peanut residue with a 4 year old are too much. Also, Sean needs a peanut-free home for the time being.

If I do notice a negative trend in decision-making about food, the first thing I do is reevaluate my role in it. Have I been buying too many unhealthy snacks? Have I been slack in preparing things that they can’t do independently, such as hardboiled eggs (this is true lately and I’m going to make a batch this afternoon—although it’s definitely time for Ryan to learn how to do this)? First, I’ll make any changes that I need to make.

If I need to set a limit on food, I try to use my very best PD methods, making sure to explain my reasons. For instance—I recently caught Ryan filling up cupcake wrappers with honey and licking the honey out of them. !!! He also has taken to over-honeying his waffles. So for the time being, he needs to use the honey with adult supervision—he has temporarily lost his free-range access to our honey. I explained to him the two reasons for this: first, it’s not really super healthy for your body to eat lots of honey, but also—honey is expensive! (He understands this concept much better now that he has an allowance.) And it’s not fair for him to consume so much honey that others don’t get a chance to eat any either.

(Ryan in particular needs additional assistance in noticing the signals of his body (hunger and noticing that he feels yucky after going to town on chocolate, for example), and being encouraged to eat healthy food. This isn’t surprising considering how often we need to help him notice other signals of his body and get him to stop what he’s doing to heed those signals.)

Similarly, when we have candy on hand, they don’t get 100% free access to that. Some of it—but not all of it. The primary reason for this is that I have to go to quite a bit of trouble to acquire peanut-free candy—I have to order it online and pay shipping costs and it’s expensive. So I tend to order a whole bunch at a time (usually in anticipation of a special event, like Halloween or a birthday) and I’d like it to last more than 5 minutes after it gets here. And yes, I know that eating candy and sugar will not get you to be Big and Healthy and Strong—but I also know that being too restrictive with such things makes those items even more desirable (I know this from my own childhood and am still fighting the negative effects of it). The kids see their friends with candy, and I wouldn’t want to create some special aura about candy that I think would be easy to do if they couldn’t ever have any. We talk about how it’s okay to have every once in a while, and how sugar will not make you Big and Healthy and Strong (and also gets “sugar bugs” on your teeth, as their dentist calls it), and how we also need to make very, very sure that any candy we have is absolutely peanut-free. There is a balance to be found, I think, in making sure their bodies are healthy and giving them a chance to develop healthy minds (and they need practice making decisions in order for the latter to happen).

On a Side Note

Something recently occurred to me, and it’s applicable to parenting philosophy in general, not just food issues. I’m still thinking this out, so bear with me.

I think there many adults tend to believe that kids will gravitate toward making bad choices, and that the parent’s role is to force them to make those good choices. I have found that this is not necessarily true.

Freeing up my kids to be as independent as possible in as many areas of their lives as possible was a conscious decision for Brendan and me. But it was hard to let go, at first, of the idea that the kids will generally make bad choices for themselves. What I discovered is that kids make choices: some are good, and some are bad. In no area of their lives have they consistently made bad decisions—because the consequences of bad decisions are, well, bad. Many times, if they were making a bunch of bad decisions, it was a direct result of something I had done—like having too much unhealthy food in the house. Or sometimes they were just testing a limit—which is at the top of a kid’s job description, as you are no doubt aware.

But there is nothing inherent in children per se, that somehow determines that kids will do the thing that is harmful. They will make mistakes—as we all do—errors of both judgment and knowledge. I view my role as someone who helps them recognize when they’ve made a bad decision, anticipate the consequences of a bad decision (since they can’t really see how things might play out into the future), and help them make good decisions by setting them up to succeed (by having healthy food in the house, for example). I don’t want to view them as somehow possessing an inherent flaw—a tendency to harm themselves by making poor decisions—that needs to be parented out of them. I’m not saying all parents do this, of course, but it is something I’ve observed in some parents, this (subconscious?) tendency to view children in a deterministic light.

I think this is part of the beauty of the positive discipline method. Assuming positive intent acknowledges that while the child just doesn’t have complete information, and can’t fully exercise his rational faculty, he is not really trying to kill himself—he’s simply trying to fulfill a need he has. I don’t want to parent the badness out of my kids—I want to help them understand how their decisions affect them (in the short- and long-run) and how to use their minds to figure out reality. I know they will make lots of good and bad decisions—I’ve seen it.

Like I said, it’s an idea I’ve been mulling over recently; it’s not quite fully formed. So I’m interested in whether or not you think I’m on the right track.

TTFN!

Monday, May 18, 2009

Keeping Kids Safe

(Originally posted at Rational Jenn)

A few weeks ago, I was hanging outside in the front with the kids. A car made its way slowly down our street and as I watched it, I remembered that I hadn't talked to the kids about safety issues lately. Especially with Morgan becoming so eager and friendly toward people with dogs, I thought I'd ask a question, just to find out what she knew:

"Hey Morgan. If you were playing outside here in the front yard, and someone you didn't know drove up in their car and said 'Hi, Little Girl! I've got some candy for you but you have to come sit in my car to get it.' What would you do?"

Without one moment's hesitation, in a confident, bright tone of voice, Morgan replied, "I'd take the candy!"

After the ice in my veins melted, we all had a Talk about safety issues. It's hard to do, to give the kids information that they might need without giving them nightmares, you know?

DANGER takes all sorts of forms--all the way from falling down the stairs or sticking a fork in a light socket to eating some poison (or peanuts) or running into the street in front of a car. All things I can imagine my kids doing (or they have done). If you have a big imagination like me, it's sometimes difficult to stop imagining the worst-case-scenario for just about anything:

Oh no! He's running with a spoon! There was water spilled in the kitchen earlier. What if I didn't wipe it all the way up? What if he slips and falls in just the right way that he gouges his eye out with a spoon? Even if he doesn't do that, he might grab onto the high chair as he's falling and twist his leg around it and then he'll have a broken leg and he'll end up with a cast all the way to his hip and then how will he be able to take a bath?


Yes, that's how my brain works. I could go on all night--don't get me started.

And while it is extremely tempting to wrap them in a bubble and protect them from every single danger that could possibly befall them, it's really not realistic or preferable. But you can't just let them wander around in traffic either.

One book that really influenced my thinking on the subject of safety is Protecting the Gift: Keeping Children and Teenagers Safe (and Parents Sane) by Gavin De Becker. It's been a while since I've read the book, so I'm going from memory here, but he offers some excellent practical advice on how to teach your kids about being safe without scaring the crap out of them at the same time. It's a thin line I'm very familiar with, dealing with the peanut allergy.

Here are some of the ways we handle safety situations with our kids. I'd love to hear more ideas.


Resisting the Temptation to Overprotect

One thing I really have to work on personally is not allowing my crazy overactive Mommy imagination get the better of me. One of my chosen parenting principles is to set as few limits as I possibly can on the kids (not that they'd believe this!). The reason for this is so that the kids can experience reality as much and as often as possible free from parental interference. Why is this important? I think that when we interfere too often, it can not only be frustrating to the child (and therefore the parent), but also prevents them from gaining knowledge that can only be learned through direct experience with reality.

This does not mean I am a permissive, anything-goes kind of parent. But rather, it means that I try to be cognizant of whether or not my interference is necessary. Maria Montessori cautioned against interfering with a child's work: "they should not be helped unnecessarily, nor interrupted, once they have begun to do something intelligent." And this is an application of the same principle--that unless they really need me, are about to get into something really harmful and irreparable, I try to stay out from between the child and reality.

But if the child is heading toward certain, irreparable disaster--such as running carelessly through a crowded parking lot--then of course I'm not going to allow him to experience the direct consequences of such actions. He could get really, really hurt. And he's too much of a value to me to let him get hurt. And I know that he would not want to get really hurt either, if he could possibly think that far ahead and express himself.

Sometimes, though, the danger level and/or risk of injury is truly low. If the baby is climbing up the staircase, I will watch him, maybe follow a few steps behind, but I won't prevent him from climbing (unless I need to do something else). He may slip and fall a few steps, but I know that it is really, really unlikely that any permanent serious harm would come to him from slipping down a few carpeted stairs. Would I allow him to climb the wooden steps to the balcony, which end at a concrete slab on the ground and lack risers? No--not at this point in his development. But when he's a bit older, sure.


Taming the Imagination Beast


Even though I can imagine dozens of terrible scenarios, I know that a rational evaluation of the actual risk tells me that the likelihood of such a damaging set of events would be pretty low. So I ask myself, "Could this terrible thing I'm imagining really, truly happen? If yes, is it likely to happen?" If the answer is "NO" to those questions, and if there aren't compelling reasons to stop whatever the kid happens to be doing (such as the baby needing me to physically be near him while he practices the stairs and I've got other things to do), then I'll default to "Yes."

Sometimes, these kinds of evaluations need to happen quickly, and I've made the wrong decisions on either side of the equation. I've been too cautious when it wasn't really necessary and I've let them do things that were more dangerous than my (or their) risk threshold. I usually make mistakes on the "too cautious" side of the equation, though.

And of course, I'm always on call for when Mr. Gravity was a little bit too rough.


Safety from Bad Guys and other Unsafe Situations

As my regular readers are no doubt aware, Bad Guys and Good Guys are popular topics of conversation around here. Usually, these discussions remain in the realm of pretend (although the older kids each have active imaginations enough to dream up demons in the bedroom and other Bad Guys, but that's a different post).

But yes, there are real Bad Guys. And while I don't think there's any point to scaring kids unnecessarily--the risks are there, but they are very low--I do think it's important to talk about how to handle things in the very small off-chance they have a real encounter with a real Bad Guy.

De Becker handles this so well in Protecting the Gift. We use many ideas straight from his book.

These include:

Don't tell kids: "Don't talk to strangers."
Huh? Isn't that the first thing we learned? The reason for this is simple: because if the kid needs help and can't find his parents, then he will likely need to rely on strangers for help! The trick is to help them identify which strangers will probably give them the help they need.

If you get lost, find a Mommy and ask her for help.
Why? Because statistically, there are many more Bad Guy Men than Bad Guy Women. It's true. Also, any Mommy worth her Mommy badge would probably stop and help a lost and scared child. I've done it once. Not that men wouldn't, but again, you're playing the odds here.

If you get lost at a mall or other public event, do NOT ask a Security Guard Peopleguy (or any other man in an official uniform) for help. Always, always find a Mommy. Why? Because sometimes Bad Guys pretend to be Good Guys in order to trick people.

If someone tries to get you to leave where you are, make lots and lots and lots of noise and do everything in your power to stay. where. you. are.
(This is good advice for anyone.) Why? Because Bad Guys do not want an audience--they try to get their victims away from others first. So don't leave--and be obnoxiously loud, too. That will make Bad Guys really uncomfortable.

If anyone ever does something to you or with you and tells you not to tell Mom, then you always, always tell Mom.

Those are some specific suggestions I remember from De Becker's book--there are lots more. Yes, it's scary to contemplate, but it's nice to have a plan. Which brings me to:


Focus on the Control You Have

Anything that is scary is even scarier if you feel out of control. So when our kids feel scared of something, we try to empathize with them that yes, that is a scary thing, but then I try to turn the conversation toward "But here's what you can do...." And I always reassure them that the chances are small, too. For example:

Thunderstorms sure make loud noises. Here's what you can do: You can help me find my special flashlight just in case the lights go out. I don't think they will, but if they do, then we'll be prepared. And you can tell me if you hear the tornado siren, because then we'll know to go to the basement to be safe. Also, why don't you listen to the weather radio with us?

Getting lost from Mommy in a store would be a scary thing. Let's think of a plan just in case that happens. I don't think that would ever happen, because I keep a very close eye on you, but it never hurts to have a plan. Here's what you do: Find a Mommy. How do you know who a Mommy is? Look for a woman, especially a woman with children. What should you tell her? Tell her your name and say "I'm lost. Will you help me?"


Explain things in a way they can understand. This is obvious, but I'll share a story of a time when I didn't do that very well. When Ryan was a toddler, I began to teach him to watch the street for cars. I told him what I was taught: "Look both ways!" He'd quickly turn his head side to side and then proceed. And then I realized that there's quite a bit of non-spoken context to "Look both ways!" that needed 'splainin'. So now we say this: "Time to check to see if it's safe to cross the road. Are there cars coming this way? [look and point] Cars coming that way? [look and point] No? Well, then, is it safe to cross? Yes, I agree with you. It is safe. Let's go!"

Help set their expectations by giving them information. We did take a field trip to the Fire Station a couple summers ago and it was very educational. One of the things I liked about our tour was how one of the Fireman Peopleguys got dressed in his fire gear right in front of the children. Another Fireman Peopleguy explained about every piece of the equipment, from boots to emergency oxygen doohickey. Once the guy was dressed in his full mask, they turned it on so he sounded like Darth Vader. And the narrator said to the kids: "Doesn't he look different? But do you think it's still Fireman Jack? Yes, it is! You all saw him get dressed, didn't you? Talk for us Jack! Wow--he sounds different, doesn't he? Now take off your helmet Jack." And the guy took off his equipment and showed the kids that yes, it was still really him; he was the same guy. And then they both told the kids "If you see someone wearing this mask and there is a fire in your house, don't hide from us! I know we look big and different and sound different, but if we are in your house in an emergency, we need to know where you are, so don't hide. We'll show you our faces as soon as we get you outside." It was so well done. Hmmm....think we ought to do that again one of these days.


How and When to Bring up the Subject

The incident a few weeks ago was an exception to how we discuss safety issues. Usually, we work our remarks into our every day activities. If we're going to be going somewhere really crowded, I'll review the Find a Mommy rule: "Hey, who remembers what to do if you can't see Mom or Dad? That's right: Find a Mommy. And don't forget to tell her your name and our names. It is pretty crowded here, so I just wanted to make sure you'll remember. However, I'm not worried; I'm going to hold your hand just like this. That way we'll make sure to stay together."

I like how our pediatrician handles the issue of body safety. Starting at about age 3, during their yearly check up, she'll just casually say as she's examining their private parts, "I'm going to look down here. And it's okay for me to do this, because your Mom is right here with you, and I'm just checking to see that everything's healthy." Once she might have said something along the lines of "If someone else asks to check your private areas, then you be sure to tell your Mom, okay?" I like how she says it because she addresses the issue and then moves on. And then I can follow up on the whole "your privates are only for you" issue later.

Ask open-ended questions, such as "What would you do?" when those conversations do take place. I try to use this technique anyway, because I'm interested to see what they're really thinking and it will often help me identify gaps in their information or strategies. Plus, getting their cranial juices flowing helps make the solution more likely to "stick" in their heads. When they are taking an active role in the process, they will be more interested and engaged than if it's just another one of those Mom Lectures.


This is a topic where I'm sure we can generate tons of great ideas for how to handle all manner of safety issues. Let's hear your strategies in the comments!

Resources:
Gavin De Becker's website
Free Range Kids

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

On Staying out of the Way

(Originally posted at Rational Jenn)

I had intended to write about a different parenting topic this week, but I've got a situation on my mind, and it's pushing posts of a more generalized nature out of my head. So I must give in and mull this issue out some here on the ol' blog.

One of my general parenting principles can be pretty well summed up by the statement: "Stay out of their way unless they really need me." I'm sometimes tempted to call myself a laissez-faire parent, but I think this implies that I'm less involved in helping my kids than I actually am. But I'm as close to laissez-faire as I know how to be, I think. When faced with any given parenting situation, I try to remember to ask myself "Do I really need to handle this, or is it something he should handle?" Many times, if I'm not sure if my intervention is necessary, I'll make myself sit back and observe before saying or doing anything.

Sean is now officially "cruising" around the furniture and tumbling off of the stairs (so far just two). It's somewhat easier--though never easy--now that I'm on my third kid, to let the baby take his lumps. I suspect this is primarily because I've done it before. Go, Experience! I know from the other guinea pigs based on past experience that no long-term harm will come to him when he wipes out after letting go of the ottoman, and I know that he will learn about Mr. Gravity and also that Mommy will come and snuggle him up until he feels better. Good lessons. So I don't feel the need to rescue him from every bump and bruise.

But it's difficult to resist the urge to protect him from his hurts. So why do I put us both through our own misery? Because he needs to have firsthand knowledge of reality. Sometimes, this knowledge is happy, like experiencing the feeling of a pleasantly full belly. Sometimes it's sad, such as receiving a bump on the head. But the best way to learn about reality is to be in it. (Not to be misunderstood, I of course do not purposely put him in dangerous situations: I'm talking about reasonable, run-of-the-mill risks like hang-gliding, construction work, international banking pulling up on furniture and opening cabinet doors right into his own face.)

Now of course this post is not really about Sean. It's about Ryan, the kid upon whom most of my mistakes will probably always be made, simply because he is the First, and each new stage for him is new to me, too. Don't feel too bad for him--he's the only kid around here who gets an allowance! It all evens out, this birth order thing--today he gets allowance and taekwondo, but one day, he'll turn 40 and his siblings will point and laugh at him. (Full disclosure, I'm a First who fully expects pointing and laughing from my sibs when I turn 40.)

Ryan is maybe about to experience some painful rejection from a friend, which is partly his own doing. See, Mr. Ryan is the super-imaginative type and always seems to think up cool games and convince other kids to play them. Until a few months ago, none of the other kids has had too much of a problem with this set up. Sure, someone might have objected to a particular plan, but they'd often just get bored and go do something else.

Lately though, one of his best friends hasn't really wanted to play with Ryan and it's because he's really tired of being bossed to death every time he would like some input into the game. I can't say I really blame him. So this friend hasn't been around too much lately, because he isn't having fun with Ryan anymore (there are some other factors, including the fact that the boys just have diverging interests at the moment).

Unfortunately, his friend's mom (who is a friend of mine) never mentioned this to us--it was up to me to bring it up, to confirm my suspicions. And A. is not the kind of kid who speaks up when there is an issue, which exacerbates the issue (there's a possible post: When Parenting Styles Clash!). So I'm not really certain how long Ryan's friend has been feeling this way. But it's definitely a problem.

We've talked about this with Ryan. We've explained that A. would like a say in how the games are played, how this is really only fair. We've discussed what it feels like to be bossed (and Ryan is definitely not a fan of that!). We've brainstormed ways to include A. in the game-planning, practicing words and techniques. We've talked about how we would like our guests to feel welcome in our house, and one way to do that is to let them contribute to the game on occasion.

Some ideas we've come up with are:

  • A. could choose the first game and then Ryan could choose the second.
  • Ryan can say things like "What do you think about that idea, A.?"or
  • "Do you have an idea?"or
  • "What would you like to play today?"
We've also talked about how to handle it when the boys have disagreements: If you have a problem you can't solve, come and get me and I'll help you guys work it out. (How this is done exactly was the original idea for my post this week, so I hope to get to that soon.)

Nearly every day, Ryan begs me to invite A. over to our house, and I take this opportunity to remind him of the things we've talked about, to practice some of the words we've come up with. The boys play together about once or twice a week lately (which is up from a couple of months ago when I think this issue was really starting to crop up). We have had successful playdates--where I have helped Ryan remember to include A. and/or helped the boys work through some of their disagreements. We have had not-so-good playdates, including a disastrous one that ended with both boys in tears.

I suspect that this is just one of those things that has to run its course, to work itself out over time. As much as I've tried to help Ryan "get it" and as clearly as I can see the hurt coming, no amount of talking this over with Brendan and me is going to help him understand what's going to happen as well as . . . just letting it happen.

Ryan is already bewildered that his friend is reluctant to play. Because of course Ryan's games are the super-funnest ever and what's wrong with this kid anyway for not wanting to play them? I do think he's trying to understand what we're trying to help him see; but I must also wonder if some of this is a bit too abstract for him to grasp. This problem would be easily resolved if Ryan were really, truly capable of empathy. I believe he's getting there, but he's still a kid.

So I asked myself "Do I really need to solve this problem?" And the answer is no. As much as I'd love to fix it, I know that I can't. And I can't really rescue him from these lumps and bumps (should his friend really decide to drop him). I'm doing what I can, helping him identify the problem and think of solution strategies, but other than that, there's no substitution for experience. As I said, really, this whole thing could blow over on its own, as both boys get past whatever Things they've got going on (until the next one!).

But if the hurt comes, I'll be here to snuggle him up until he feels a little better.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

More On Choosing Battles

(Originally posted at Rational Jenn)

Thanks to everyone who took the time to leave comments on my The Art of War for Parents post. It generated some good discussion, and that's always interesting and beneficial to me.

My friend Kelly asked a couple of good questions that helped me clarify a distinction between using force to help a child do something (like stop before running into traffic) and Mom refusing to do something (like go upstairs to retrieve socks). After thinking about this issue for a while, I came up an analogy (from the comments):

Kelly--regarding the earlier comments, here's an analogy I came up with today. Let me know what you think.

Sometimes as a Mom I have to be like the Unstoppable Force--the one who must force the kid to do something against his will. (With rational parameters around when to do this, of course.)

Other times, when I'm setting a limit on something I will or will not do, I'm more like the Immovable Object. I'm not forcing the kid, but rather, choosing not to budge about something.

Both kinds of scenarios might involve in Battles, and I think both require rational parameters and reevaluation of whether the Battle is worth fighting.

The not going upstairs is me as the IO; the forcing into a carseat is the UF.

Two sides of the same coin? Maybe? Think I'm getting closer anyway, and I definitely mixed up the examples I used.


What do you think?

Also, as I was contemplating this distinction, I realize that I'm a better parent in the Mom-as-Unstoppable-Force situations than I am when I'm Mom-as-the-Immovable-Object. When I'm drawing a line in the sand, sometimes I get caught up in Not Budging and I forget to reevaluate whether there's a good reason for doing so. Some kind of Stonewall Mommy thing. (That's merely an interesting insight into my own personal self; YMMV, of course!)

Then Kelly said the following about the UF/IO distinction, which I thought was very insightful:

I think one super important thing for parents to contemplate about these two states is the consequence of doing it at inappropriate times or too often. Using force too often or unfairly leads to children who aren't independent and who feel resentment. Refusing to do things to help too much or with cruel intentions leads to children who don't feel loved and cared for. Both things are absolutely necessary, but should be used incredibly sparingly.


Wasn't that well put? And I completely agree. Thoughts? And by the way, in case it wasn't clear, disagreements are welcome in the comments! Hearing other points of view is always helpful to me.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

The Art of War for Parents

(Originally posted at Rational Jenn)

Here's a parenting issue I've been thinking about quite a bit lately: Choosing Battles. Everyone's heard the saying "You've got to choose your battles." It's good advice, but rarely comes with any hint of how one should choose said battles.

I don't think the parent-child relationship necessarily needs to be adversarial, but conflicts occur--well, more often than I wish. I don't start out intending to have an argument with one of my kids, but they sneak up on me, often on multiple fronts (having more than one kid). Sometimes such confrontations are inevitable, when the child is taking a battering ram to a necessary rule or limit. But many times, I find myself caught up in battles that ultimately are not worth fighting.

Here's how it typically goes down: child disagrees with or resists a limit that the parent has set for the child. Mom explains the reasons for the limit, but the kid doesn't like it, and a temper tantrum or shouting match (my son's strategy) or sneaky thwarting (my daughter's strategy) ensues. Mom and Dad must then force the limit on the child in some way (or reevaluate the need for the limit or revise it, etc.).

Force, you say? Force, I said. Leonard Peikoff, in his book The Ominous Parallels, described the two basic kinds of interactions between humans (albeit in a much different context):


There are only two fundamental methods by which men can deal with one another: by reason or by force, by intellectual persuasion or by physical coercion . . . .


Children are human beings, but their brains are in the process of growing and developing. They are not fully rational . . . not yet. But one day (we hope), they will be rational. So when attempting to get the child to do something she might otherwise not want to do, I think it's right (and worth it!) to go the Reason Route first. Why? Oh, lots of reasons. Because it might work. Because it models rational thinking for them and gets them involved in the process of rational decision-making. Because it outlines the rational reasons for whatever it is they need to do. Because it demonstrates that Mom and Dad are not arbitrary rule generators and enforcers--that they have good reasons for what they want.

However, sometimes reason will not convince. It happens from time to time. :o) And then the parent needs to decide: Do I force this issue? If so, why?

Is it ever right to force a child to do something? Sometimes, yes. By the word "force," I of course do not mean hitting the child, although occasionally physical restraint might be necessary, as in the following example. By "force," I'm talking about making the child do (or not do) something against their will.

I think most people would agree that stopping a child from running into a busy street is an appropriate use of force. Why? Because the child, not being fully rational, is endangering her life. So Mom or Dad grabs her before she darts out into traffic, simultaneously thwarting her will and preserving her life.

With less drastic situations it's really a question of determining which principles should guide a parent's decision about if and when it is appropriate to force a child to do something. (Or not do something.) In general, Brendan and I allow as much freedom as possible--in fact, we err on the side of freedom--and set our limits around individual rights--the child's rights or the rights of others.

Here are some examples of times when we've chosen to fight the good fight, with my reasons for the less obvious examples:

  • Last summer, Ryan needed a dilated eye exam. Brendan held him down against his will while the nurses put the eye drops in. (It was awful.)
  • I've forced Morgan into her carseat too many times to count.
  • [Warning to non-parents, poop story to follow.] I gave this example on another Mommy blog. When Ryan was about 2.5, he had an awful case of diarrhea with a bleeding diaper rash, too. He needed to be changed, but he was in terrible pain. We held him down and got him cleaned up while he screamed bloody murder (this was in a parking lot, too).
  • A house rule I often reinforce is Please Eat in the Kitchen. (There are many reasons for this, mostly having to do with my self-interest. It drives me crazy to find mummified string cheese in the couch, piles of crumbled up crackers in the playroom, etc. And creates more work for me. And attracts bugs. Also, there's our ever-present concern that something is mislabeled for peanut safety--if there is a reaction, I'd like to know just where to clean up possible peanut allergen contamination.)
  • Ryan has to have an Epi-pen with him if he leaves our yard.
  • If you want to wear socks, then you must go upstairs to find them on your own. I will not come with you. (Ryan and Morgan only seem to want me to go upstairs with them when I need them to do something--but will play up there contentedly for their own purposes. This is a job they need to handle themselves.)
  • Only one vitamin per day.
  • No standing on a chair and leaning over the edge of the balcony (which is very elevated).
  • Nobody is allowed to watch Star Wars - Episode III, Revenge of the Sith just yet. (It's too violent, and both Ryan and Morgan are prone to bad dreams about violent movies--although she's not the one wanting to see this movie.)

Obviously, there are varying degrees of the use of force involved here--not every one of these issues develops into a battle. But they are legitimate restrictions on what they'd like to do, either because they might be harmed, or rights are violated in some way.

Here are examples of times when I've chosen not to have a fight, or backed out of a fight already engaged:

  • A child wants to wear shorts outside on a 40 degree day (or colder).
  • The Big Dig in the backyard. (I care less about a big hole in the yard than I do about allowing the kids freedom to dig and explore.)
  • As I write this, the wood rail of our balcony is painted rainbow colors. I think it's pretty, even though it's not up to the guidelines of our homeowner's association.
  • Eat whenever you're hungry and whatever you like, with a few restrictions. (No cocktails, etc.).
  • Wearing a bike helmet, at least while they're not involved in daredevil stunts. (Yes, I know it's against the law.)
  • Climbing something from which a fall might result in a minor (or even moderate) injury. If I think they will get really hurt, I'll offer some advice information based on experience. I do draw the line before a broken bone, partly because I think I might faint or something if when that happens.
  • Spending their own money.

Much of these issues revolve around optional values. I don't particularly care about the hole in the backyard, but I know that others might strongly prefer a nice grassy area to a concave bald patch. I'm bothered by food all over the house, but I know others are not.

Obviously, every limit I enforce does not involve a knock-down-drag-out battle. (Even though there are times when it feels that way.) Here are some Positive Discipline techniques I try to keep in mind as I handle conflicts with my kids. (Actually, some of these ideas--especially the first--may not have come straight from a PD book or resource, but they are in line with PD.)


Always give a rational reason.


I don't use the "Because I Said So" phrase. If I can't find a good reason for getting the child to do something, then really, why am I asking him to do it? And if I do have a good reason, then why wouldn't I tell him what it is?

Sometimes, there isn't time to explain all of the whys and wherefores--riding one's bike into traffic, for example. So I would stop the dangerous situation first--and then give my reasons.


Stop thinking about it as a Battle.

Yes, I'm using battle analogies all over the place here, but really, I handle confrontations best when I'm focused on solving a problem versus winning an argument. Now, of course the child will want to "win" the argument, but I do my best to point out how we solved the problem together or at least remind him about the reasons.

When I've had to use physical force--such as making someone sit strapped in a carseat--I don't gloat. (I've seen parents do this!) I didn't "win," but rather I behaved as a rational parent ought to. I did my job. Also, I empathize with the child's feelings. No one likes being forced to do something, not even little children. So I say "I know you are feeling mad that I'm making you sit in your carseat. It's okay to be mad about this." And then maybe reiterate the reason. Or maybe just drop it.


Make the Hard and Fast Rules as few and infrequent as possible.

Or, as I mentioned above, Err on the side of freedom. Really, there are only a few things that I will physically force them to do. I'll make them sit in their carseats. I'll stop people from hurting each other. I'll make people attend each other's practices and activities.

Basically, I will stop them from risking irreparable damage to their own lives, limbs, or property, and those of others. In the example of making someone attend another's ballet or chess practice, that is mostly a function of logistics at this point. When any child is old enough to be left alone here, he'll have that choice. If he wanted to stay at a friend's house and it was okay with his friend's mom, then that would be fine with me. Unfortunately, our schedules and those of our friends don't match up too well. And I can't just leave him alone at home (which falls under the risk to life and limb category, I guess. Certainly, property is at risk). Therefore, he's gotta go with.


Find ways to say YES.

A qualified Yes is easier to handle than an outright No.

  • Yes, you can climb that wall--over on this side, where the drop isn't quite so large.
  • Yes, you can paint--outside.
  • Yes, you can wrestle around with your friends--as long as it's okay with them.
  • Yes, you can have another vitamin--tomorrow.


Change your mind.

This is a corollary of the Don't Think of it as a Battle guideline. If this is something not worth arguing about, then why keep arguing? I often ask myself in mid-confrontation:

  • Why is this important to me?
  • Is someone or something going to be hurt? If so, how much?
  • Are someone's rights being violated? Really?
  • Is this annoyance I feel justified? If so, why? If not, can I live with the results of saying yes?

It's surprising to me how often I find that it's not worth my time or energy to fight over something. Something my dad said to me over the phone a few days ago reminded me of a particular battle they chose to fight with me. I hated wearing dresses; it was an ongoing struggle because it was obviously important enough to them that I wore dresses frequently since it became a War of Epic Proportions. And it still bothers them, apparently. Why? I just can't imagine.

Many times I'll be involved in a conflict, ask myself those questions above, and realize that the only reason I'm trying to enforce a limit is because it was something enforced upon me. That's not a good enough reason. So I'll say, "You know what? I guess I really don't care if you wear shorts outside today. If you decide you're cold, come in and change into jeans."

This requires quite a bit of introspection for the parent. Understanding my personality, my principles, my values, and some context of what happened when I was a child is invaluable.


Extricate yourself from pointless confrontations.

First, make sure you're not the one unnecessarily dragging things on. :o) Sometimes the child prolongs the confrontation beyond the point of all tolerance. I find that saying, "I know you're upset, but I'm all done talking about this now" very useful.

Say "Hmmmmm." Sometimes a kid needs to vent a bit. A well-timed "Hmmmmm...." allows you to acknowledge them while not engaging in the battle. (It also works for when they say something hilarious and you ought to respond but are afraid you might laugh.)


Show them the light at the end of the tunnel.


If there's something that needs doing that's not super fun, like picking up toys, show them the advantage of doing so. I did that last night with Ryan. He was upset because he was the only picking up (the rest of us were engaged in other legitimate things, like nursing babies). I reminded him that the quicker he cleaned up, the more time he'd have to play his computer game. I always phrase such things in terms of the child's rational self-interest.

I'm sure there are more tactics--and I'd love to hear some that you use!

Sun Tzu said something along the lines of "The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting." A really smart general will win the battle before it's engaged, by showing the enemy the futility of fighting, disengage from a battle not worth fighting, or possibly make an adversary into an ally.

Of course, I don't view my kids as "the enemy." (They may very well think of Brendan and me as the enemy sometimes!) But there is an apt analogy, I think. Maybe the supreme art of parenting is to guide the child without unnecessary fighting, disengaging from the ensuing battle not worth fighting, and turning them from adversaries into allies. I think many PD strategies are well-suited to this idea. Having identified principles and values helps, too.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Independence and Food Allergies

(Originally posted at Rational Jenn)

I know I've mentioned before that Ryan has never been one of those "See ya, Mom!" types. Even as a baby, he strongly preferred Brendan and me; he screamed for hours on the few occasions that we left him with trusted friends as a toddler; he even balked at not being able to see me outside his chess classroom door every second. This is a child who still occasionally freaks out if he can't find me for a nanosecond on the playground and once accused me of attempted abandonment when I went to get the mail out of the mailbox. Last spring, he went through a thing where he'd have the babysitter call us 5 minutes after we'd pulled out of the driveway just so he could say "goodbye" one more time.

If I had to pick one thing about Ryan that I've worried about the most--apart from the peanut allergy--it would be this reluctance-to-leave-me thing. I really wondered for a long while if it was me, something I'd done, but when Morgan showed up with very much a "See ya, Mom!" attitude, I realized that it was just what it was. Still hard to deal with though.

There are advantages! He could always be relied on, even at a very young age, to stick close by me in parking lots. It was definitely easy from a food allergy angle--the kid rarely left my sight and so I could usually catch him picking up something mysterious off of the floor to give it a taste (I still have nightmares about that cookie in the grocery cart that he consumed before I could stop him). And he has never once begged me to put him in school.

But oh, it's been hard, too. Especially because I want him to be more independent, of course. And I was worried that he was lagging too far behind developmentally in this area--where he's lightyears ahead in others. Strange, isn't it?

Things have turned a corner in the last month or two, and he is finally outgrowing (is that the right word?) the mommy tether. Walks into chess class without a glance backwards. No more tears when we leave him with a sitter (unless he's just mad at us about leaving him with the sitter!). Begs to go play with his friends all the time. Runs around all over the neighborhood.

I'm so happy about this. I want this for him, to be free, to be outside--alone or with his friends--but free of adult oversight. Of course, I want to know where he is, and ideally to have him close enough that I'll hear them all in case someone gets seriously injured, but I don't need to be looking out at them every single minute. When a grownup isn't readily available, the kids must all figure out solutions to their own problems. They use their imaginations to have adventures. They collaborate, argue, explore, experience things that I will never quite know all about. He is really beginning to have his own life now. How exciting!

It's been coming for quite some time--it's been ages since I really knew everything he was thinking--although he is still very prone to enlighten me whether I've asked him to or not. :o) With Sean, it's different, of course--there is a very limited (but growing) list of things he needs or wants: food, diaper, burp, poked self in eye, etc. When he needs me, I may not guess what he needs on the first try, but I do eventually figure it out. But Morgan and Ryan--well, their Wants/Needs lists might as well be infinite at this point. I can use my best guess and reason it out with them, but sometimes I have no clue what's going on. No. Clue. And they are more than happy to tell me that I'm WRONG anyway.

I wrote all of the above to make it clear (hopefully) that I am so proud that Ryan is finally progressing in this area. And that I believe it is extremely beneficial and necessary and good and wonderful for children to be as independent as possible. It's good practice for being an adult.

But there is the peanut thing. At age 6.5, it's high time for Ryan to say to us, as he did this afternoon, "Mom, Dad, CanIgotoA'shouse? Ican? Okaybye!" and be dashing out the door. But he's still too young to be responsible for his allergy. His deadly only-have-minutes-to-do-the-injection allergy. So I'm trying to come up with a sensible, rational strategy to keep him safe while fostering his newfound sense of independence.

Fortunately, I'm very good friends with A's mom, and I intend to ask her tomorrow if she'd be willing to keep a spare Epi-pen at her house. (Thanks, K, for that idea!) She knows the drill, has been through the training, and at this point, her house is pretty much the only house he goes to. And it's right next door, so I like that.

If he were in school, we would have had a plan for the Epi-pen by now, I realize that. But now I'm wondering about him needing to carry it on his person. Our principle since the diagnosis has been: Never Leave Home Without It. Partly because you never know when you're going to run into a peanut (we do live in Georgia!), but mostly because we are trying to ingrain this habit into him, in the same way we've ingrained it into us. We've turned around the car and driven back home for an hour to get it when we've forgotten it. Not having the Epi is a showstopper.

Particularly in the last year or so, I've encouraged Ryan to take a more active role in remembering to bring the Epi-pens. As we're preparing to head out the door, I'll ask, "Is there anything else we need to bring?" Usually, he'll come up with the right answer--or Morgan will. When we take walks around our neighborhood, we've always brought the Epis--in keeping with our family rule. Lately, I'll have Ryan get the Epi-pens off the hook where we keep them and either carry them on the walk or put them in the stroller. And he has to put them back on the hook when we return home.

So now that he's out and about in the neighborhood, I think we need to reevaluate our rule. Obviously, I don't think it's necessary to carry it to go get the mail (although our yard was strewn with peanut shells one morning--that was a fluke, thankfully). He's terribly unlikely to just pick up random things off the ground and pop them in his mouth (like the time he ate fertilizer--which is not a problem according to Poison Control, in case you're wondering). So I think it will be okay to tell him that he doesn't need to bring it when he goes next door, if my neighbor agrees to have a backup in her house.

But I'm concerned we may be losing some of the progress toward establishing that lifelong habit of having it with him. At the same time, I don't want him tied to it while he's playing if he doesn't have to be. And he and his friends often run back and forth, in and out of our houses and yards. It would be difficult for him to keep it with him unless he was actually wearing it in a fanny pack or something. That might be necessary in a school setting (I don't know, maybe not), but seems to restrictive for playing close to his home.

I need ideas. Epi-pen needs to be near him. He's too young to A) remember it reliably and B) actually use it reliably. How?

If we go with the Neighbor Plan, we'd also need to make it a rule that their house is the ONLY house he can go into without the Epis from home. Because that one has the medicine he needs. So if he wants to go visit another friend (he has a few down the street he's begun hanging out with lately) then he'd need to come and get our Epis. I think that's something he could remember and deal with. And of course I'd talk to the moms, too. Everyone on our street knows about the allergy and is pretty supportive, thankfully.

The other thing I'm planning soon is an educational session with Ryan, Morgan, and some of their friends. Because I think it would be good to have his friends know what to look for--that if it ever appears that Ryan is having trouble breathing that they need to stop what they're doing and find a grownup immediately. I'm not sure that's something they all quite comprehend just yet. Not even Ryan--we need to teach him that his reaction could be more than just hives, which is the only reaction he's had that he can remember.

In short--if I can use that phrase at the end of such a long post--now that he's becoming more independent, he must accept a corresponding increase in responsibility. I'm absolutely on that plan, but sometimes it's difficult for me to figure out where the line between rational, cautious, and sensible and insanely overprotective and paranoid falls when it comes to this allergy.

The world is only getting bigger for him! So good for him! (So hard on Mommy!)