My son is sixteen years old, and I try to give him as much leeway as possible. I do my best to give him the opportunities to try out different methods of living, letting him make mistakes, hoping he learns.
But I recently ran into a situation that had me compelled to take action, to rein him in:
His father shares custody with our kids and has a place nearby. My son discovered that his dad’s house was closer to his school than our house. So when his books became too heavy to lug all the way to our house, he’d just go to his dad’s house to do his homework, even on day’s when he was to spend the night with us. I was ok with this, as I feel he’s old enough to make these decisions. Except… When he goes to his dad’s house, there’s no one there - so the homework wasn’t getting done, or it was getting done while the tv was on.
I let this happen for a bit, to give him time to straighten it out himself. But after a week of goofing off at his dad’s house and then staying up super-late doing homework at our house, I stepped in. From now on, I drive him to school and pick him up after, so he has no excuse but to bring his books to our house, where I can keep an eye on him and make sure he does his homework without the tv.
It’s a tough call - I could let him take his chosen course, but high school is a one-shot deal. Even one bad semester is enough to bring his GPA down to a level that would hamper college admissions. And yet bringing him back under my watchful eye has its own downsides - Will it hamper his ability to be independent? Additionally there’s the stress of the conversation - “You don’t have to tell me to do my homework!” “Well, I kinda do, ’cause if I don’t, the homework doesn’t get done.” “Yeah, but…” Not a great conversation.
Anyway, that’s the way it’s shaking it out on my end. Feel free to point and laugh, or offer helpful suggestions, or polite empathy, or a recipe for brownies.
I have two sons who are 5 and 2 respectively. Back when my older son (OS) was 2 we began looking at preschools for him for the following year. Why? Because at least where I live you have to register the November before the fall that your child will be entering preschool. I’ve been told by friends who live in different parts of the country that this happens everywhere. I remember thinking that he was still in diapers and talked in very simple sentences, and I just couldn’t imagine what he would be like a year from then much less be able to decide if a school was a good fit. That’s before I even knew that I would have to get too registration way before it started to wait in a line. We made our best call for OS, and it turned out to be great.
This week was registration for my younger son (YS) who is two. Again, the same thoughts went through my mind. This time though in addition to preschool thoughts and concerns, I needed to think about what do to with OS again since next year he will be in kindergarten. Why the worry? Because once again the registration for private kindergarten is the November before the fall in which your child will be attending. On top of that, if he does go to the public school, then we need to decide whether he should go half day or full day. There’s a lottery for the full day, and it is very popular and thus very hard to get a spot. Plus you still have to pay for the extra half day your child is attending school. In other words if your child goes to public kindergarten half day is free. If your child goes to public full day kindergarten and there’s the option of half day kindergarten it’s looked at financially as if your child is attending two half day kindergartens a day and you pay for the second.
I have heard countless accounts about how the public kindergartens in our town work. Ultimately I just need to call the town and find out what exactly is going on and more importantly if anything requires me to stand in line at some obscene hour in the morning. It just leads me to wonder when my kids’ lives got more complicated than mine?
There are times when you just know something is a bad idea. We may agree to participate in an activity even though we know it isn’t a good idea. This was me as I agreed to attend the Parent & Child Luncheon at my daughters preschool. For a full week I debated about signing my name to the RSVP list and hoped something would prevent me from being able to attend.
The idea of having the parents join their children during lunch was a very cute idea. But it is also a very bad idea. The other parents at my table and I laughed about how “fun” it was going to be when we left to go back to work as our children screamed bloody murder to go with us.
A little background: My girls don’t exactly love school. They are not social creatures. We started daycare when they were 2 years 3 months old. The transition from the home to school was not an easy one for any of us. For the first 6 months - I kid not - they would both cry when I dropped them off at school. The first time they ran into their classes excited for the day was a joyous one for me because it had been 18 months of tears or clinging in some form or combination. However, this came to a crashing halt when a bully came along and ruined their comfort zone.
So, as I prepared to join my girls for the Parent & Child lunch I decided to take a proactive approach. I don’t really enjoy watching my kids cry as I leave them at school and I definitely didn’t want them to get upset during the middle of the day — knowing me I would have let them come home with me even though I had a ton of work to do.
One of my girls wanted more turkey so I walked into the hallway area where the food was located to witness the first child outburst in progress. I started to prepare myself for the same. However, I was able to avert the clinging and crying episodes even while my daughters watched another set of twins hang on for dear life to their mother. I ran out as fast as I could as my girls quietly joined their classmates. As I walked to the car I was proud of my daughters, but more so I knew the true value of setting expectations.
The night before the lunch I explained that mommy would be joining them. Immediately they thought I was picking them up and taking them out to lunch at a restaurant with the expectation they’d be done with school at that point (can you tell I’ve done this before). Once they understood that I was going to join them for lunch at their school they still chanted that they didn’t want to stay at school after lunch was over. Bound and determined for this to work, I repeated that I was going to join them for lunch at their school and when we were done eating they’d go back to their classroom and I’d pick them up a few hours later. I reinforced this idea in the morning before dropping them off at school.
When I picked them up that afternoon their teacher made a comment about how good Pack Rat and Copy Cat did when I left. I briefly explained to her that I set the expectations about me joining them for lunch ahead of time and it seemed to work.
I must say that I’m surprised they handled my departure so well. I was very proud of them. One thing I have noticed about my kids is that when I set the expectations they tend to listen better or behave better. They like to know what we are doing and the order we are doing them in. I’m not sure how or when I figured this out, but somewhere along the lines I discovered a communication trick that they like.
What are some tools you’ve applied that have worked on your children?
First, let me say that the early teen years with my kids are inherently awkward. The boys are becoming “guys”, and are now too old for “play-dates” and asking to have a friend sleep over feels weird too-the language we use to master our kid’s social calendar changes radically during this transition from play dates to hanging out with their pals.
My thirteen year old son, in eighth grade, has never been a real social butterfly. He has a few good friends, both male and female, and he’s never been the kid who is just dying to have a friend over, unlike his younger brother. I’ve told him to let me know if he wants to have a friend over or do something social, but that I wasn’t always going to push, so he had to take the lead. And this week, he did in a way that surprised me.
My thirteen year old asked a girl out to the movies. A first date.
I wrote a few weeks ago about my mom handing me one of my old diaries from her basement, which I took home. It was full of pre-teen and teenage angst that made me cringe, even close to thirty years later. I read those silly words and got transported right back to those moments of adolescent angst, of trying to figure out how it all worked, and the depth of the trivia that seemed world-ending at the time.
So when my son told me he had asked a girl out, I was both proud of him and floored at the same time. I remembered my first date, and hearing afterwards that the boy in question told everyone I kissed funny- since I had never kissed anyone who wasn’t a relative up until that point, it’s hardly a surprise, but that was a pretty deep scar for me for many years. As a result, I knew how big a deal that first date could be, at least for the girl involved, even if I couldn’t see it from my date’s point of view.
When I spoke with my son about it, he said that he and the girl had decided that while they both “like-liked” each other, neither was ready for anything serious, so they were looking at this as a practice first date, to see what it would be like. This was so mature, so reasonable and rational, that I was floored, both with the maturity he showed, and an envy that I wish he had been my first date.
My husband, I think in a move designed to torture me, said I should definitely be the chaperone. So the girl’s mom and I worked out the details, and I stressed for several days about how to be invisible in public, how to be the chauffer and the wallet, yet give them their privacy.
Now, as you can imagine, I totally identify with this young lady, and want her first date to be sweet and special. I want my son to be a gentleman, and not lame. And I was the only one who was really nervous here, although there was a fair amount of giggling that occurred, leading me to believe the girl was a little nervous as well. And guess what? The only cool, level headed person was my son. He smiled and was happy, but he was clearly taking it all in stride. He was happy to sit with the young lady while I got dinner (time was too short to do a sit down dinner, so we ended up doing fast food). He held her hand and bought concessions. While some of his conversation at dinner went towards the geeky, it was totally fine, and I was the only one cringing a little inside.
I thought I’d sit in the back of the movie theater and give them their own space, but they wanted me to sit next to them- I sat on the other side of my son from his friend, and just watched the movie. Beverly Hills Chihuahua turned out to be a great choice- a little puppy romance and humor, about the right speed for a first date, versus some overly romantic chick flick or an action movie.
Her parents came and picked her up from our house afterwards, and she gave my son a quick kiss on the cheek. He blushed and later said it made him feel like a million dollars. In the end, I feel like a million dollars that I have raised a son who is way smarter than me, practical and kind, and even in his early teen geekiness, is way cooler than anyone I have ever known.
I’m generally inclined to consider computer technology a danger, at least as far as children are concerned. This position, of course, has been reinforced by doctors and psychologists. Doctors, because computers and the like make for sedentary, and thus unhealthy, children. Psychologists, because children need to engage in creative play with other children so that they can thrive socially and emotionally.
The other day I realized that I’ve been so focused on how computers threaten the development of our kids that I’ve given short shrift to the remarkable asset they can be, at least when used judiciously. Case in point: Eleven was practicing the clarinet. From the other room, I could tell that he was bored by his songbook. He was hurrying, being sloppy, and generally just trying to get through it instead of enjoying it. I frowned, thinking, What a shame, because he really does love music.
“Eleven,” I called, “come here for a minute, would you?”
He obliged. I asked, “Do you know what jazz is?”
He nodded. “It’s like when you put in a lot of extra notes, like this…” He picked up his clarinet and proceeded to play quickly, notes spilling out everywhere but with little relation to one another, or to the whole.
“That’s part of it,” I encouraged, “but it’s much more than that. Here. I’ll give you an example.”
I turned to my computer and brought up YouTube. As I did, I asked Eleven if he had ever heard of Benny Goodman.
“I think so,” he mused. “He plays clarinet too, right?”
“He did,” I said, “a long time ago. Listen to this.” And I started a video clip of Goodman and his band, accompanied by Peggy Lee, in the 1943 film Stage Door Canteen:
Eleven was enthralled. And, a few clips later, as he returned to his clarinet practice, his renewed interest in the instrument clearly audible, I sat still, dumbfounded by how quickly and easily I’d been able to show my son a piece of a film made sixty-five years ago.
For perhaps the first time, I realized just how lucky our children are to be living in this day and age. There are many reasons to believe that things were better back then, to be sure. But as long as it’s exercised wisely, I cannot call the rise of technology one of them.
How do you feel about the use of technology in education?
(Editor’s note: Welcome, Nancy Swanson, to GNMParents. Thank you for sharing with all of us.) – A friend and I have been talking recently about letting go of our babies. They’re no longer babies, but they are the youngest of our children. Her’s is a boy, mine a girl. Both 17. Both high school seniors.
Each of us has older children. She has several. All graduated from college. One married and a grandchild on the way. I have one older son. Still living at home while going to college. Single but talking about marriage.
Both of us are saying goodbye. Goodbye to high school plays and musicals and concerts and football games. Goodbye to the things that have kept us young–or aged us greatly.
We are saying goodbye to life as we have known it for the past 17 plus years since we each became mothers. We are letting go of the things that have become so routine. The people we see. the places we go, the events we attend, the things that moms do for and with their children.
We’re remembering how it was when they needed us for everything. And then, suddenly, they almost don’t need us at all. How did that happen? Are they really ready? Are we ready to let them go?
We’ve nurtured and disciplined and hugged and given time-outs. They’ve learned to read and write and do math I can’t even begin to understand. They work hard and play harder and give to others in ways that go far beyond anything I did at 17.
We’ll keep them and teach them for a few more months, and then we’ll let them go. Yes, they will be ready. Yes, we will be ready. We will let them go.
by Nancy Swanson
Photo graciously provided by jon.swanson, through a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved
My favorite part of the day comes after the sun sets. Sometime around eight each night, my husband gives our son a bath and plops him into our bed. After bath time comes story time, and while bath time is Papa time, story time is my time. My little man is warm and clean, smelling fresh of baby wash and lavender bubble bath. We snuggle together, down into our “big bed,” pull the covers up around us, and read stories.
I’m always on the lookout for new kids’ books. I’m always surprised at just how bad some of them can be, but when we find a good one, it makes our little night time ritual even sweeter.
I thought I’d share a few of our newest favorites. When it comes to kids’ books, I’m a pretty tough customer. Our son is two, so it’s essential that the books have a good picture to word ratio; too many words, and he gets bored, but too few words, and he can’t enjoy the illustrations. I’m also a stickler for correct grammar. I’ve seen some books that use really awful grammar just to keep a rhyme scheme going, but we actually learn grammar by unconsciously memorizing it when we read. We get an unconscious feel for what “sounds” right. It just doesn’t make sense to me to introduce your child to the incorrect sentence structure or pronoun use unnecessarily. Finally, the story and illustrations have to be engaging and, well, downright charming.
I think these three books meet all of those requirements:
The Big Cheese of Third Street, by Laurie Halse Anderson and David Gordon - Little Benny is a Tom Thumb among the giant Antonellis and Sorensens, but his small stature has made him incredibly apt at climbing. His superior climbing skills help him become the hero of the local block party, making him the true “Big Cheese.” What I love about this book is that the narrative voice sounds like something straight out of the lower east side. The illustrations are beautiful, and keep my son engaged, but the words themselves make this a fun book even for adults to read. Badda-Bing.
I think I would recommend this book just for the pictures even if the story was only so-so. Luckily, the story is every bit as whimsical and fun as the brightly-colored illustrations. Little Izzy knows that the dragon on her father’s farm doesn’t sound as mean as everyone else suspects it does, but no one will believe her. When her father tells her to “run along” one day, Izzy runs straight to the dragon and proves everyone wrong. Your little dragon will be “rooaaaarrrrrring” along.
This story uses a repeating refrain to engage children in the telling story. A little boy loves visiting his grandparents in the country, except for the squeaky, creaky bed. Animal after animal is added to the mix, until the boy realizes that maybe the squeaks aren’t so bad after all. The illustrations in this book are wonderful. Rather than an elderly set of grandparents, Daly has created a set of hippiesque boomers, complete with ying-yang jammies.
I hope you’ll take a look at some of these suggestions, but I’d love to hear some of your own. How do you decide which children’s books you like the best? What’s your little munchkin’s favorite bedtime story?
There comes moments in life, moments when you feel utterly helpless. Moments when someone close to you is breaking, fragmented, shattered. Moments when all you want is to desperately reach out to that person and hold them. Try to make everything go away, just give them peace. Comfort and peace and a safe place to fall apart, and then come slowly back together again.
There have been people in my life that have emotionally imploded. People that needed, desperately NEEDED a place to feel safe, a place to be real and to shed one of the several twisted masks they wore. In fact, I’ve been one of those people myself, alone and hidden - crying big scary sobs that seem to have no end. But for some reason, these people have been outside my reach: either by distance, or by circumstance, by responsibilities or by impenetrable emotional walls. For these people, there is no touch, no warmth of a sympathetic shoulder, no empathy to see them through. This ties my hands. Paralyzes me.
I can remember my very own darkest moments. The moments where I have retreated so far into myself it seemed impossible to return. Impossible to replace that mask on the crumpled and twisted face that was me. Sucked down, amid the torn scraps of what had once been a functional life, dismembered love and affection fused with mistrust, rejection and hurt. A time when virtually nothing could comfort me, wrapped in twisted metal thorns that bit into anyone daring to come close enough. Then, there was the lighthouse.
For me, the lighthouse is that person, that rock - that mainstay that you must return to when attempting to place your feet back on solid ground. It is a force, a gravitational pull that rights you again after you’ve toppled. It is that house from childhood memories, slips of laughter rustling in the deadened leaves of the past. A smell that squeezes your heart gently, reminding you of what is good in you - those things you’ve stuffed down and slathered in negativity. It has power - power to dry your tears, pick up your pieces and prepare for the next wave. They never stop crashing, the sands never stop retreating under their power - but you can SEE what’s coming next. And knowing? Is half the battle.
I hope, one day, that my children see me as their lighthouse. I cannot fool myself and claim that I will absolutely always know when they’ve retreated. I cannot expect that in those darkest moments they will allow me to reach out to them and provide them with a safe place to feel. But I hope, that even in their bleakest moments, they’ll see me - and my light - and know that they are grounded.
As I write this, there has been a lot of bad economic news around the world. Economies are failing (Iceland declared bankruptcy last week), companies are stumbling (DHL closes, Circuit City files for chapter 11 bankruptcy), jobs are disappearing, and things look bleak.
Living as I do in a state where the economy has already been horrible for years (we’re 50th in the nation, thankyouverymuch), the topic of debt has been a big one. Regardless of who you may hold responsible for the current crisis, I think we can all agree that debt is a liability especially in times like the present.
Growing up, my parents didn’t talk to me a lot about debt. When I got my first credit card in college, I had no idea what to expect with it. It took me a looooong time to pay off that bill.
Did your parents teach you anything about handling money?
And now that you’re a parent, what are you teaching your kids about the world of personal finance? Do you give allowances? Require savings? Have they experimented with debt while they’re young? What are you telling them about the current economic crisis that will help them handle the future competently?
Positive Parenting Is The Path To World Peace
We believe parenting (that is to say, positive parenting) is the key to happiness, because it provides children with a base of comfort, which allows them to grow. Our focus on parenting has everything to do with creating a better, safer, more pleasant society. Are you interested in increasing your focus on parenting? If so, give us some of your time. :-)
