A gal I used to know got pregnant and had a baby boy when she was 16. I met the kid when he was about the same age as my Declan is now and I got to observe, off and on, his upbringing for almost five years.
The mom's parents helped out a lot -- almost too much. He also spent a LOT of time in front of the television.
The thing I picked up on more than anything else over the course of those years was that the mom lost out on a huge chunk of her own childhood and most of the interaction she had with her son was tainted with some degree of bitterness at the fact. She wasn't a bad mom. She loved her son dearly, and obviously, but she never forgot what she could have had without him. This resulted in a short temper - passed on to the boy - and she took full advantage of opportunities to leave him with relatives or babysitters (or in front of the TV during the day) to get out and salvage what vestiges of hedonistic excess she could.
He'd be over 10 years old now and I sometimes wonder how he's done.
The startling revelation these sorts of thoughts inflicted on me is that I'm now of the impression that the parents we are in the course of our kids' nascent years are, by and large, the same parents we become later on. The habits, rituals and routines laid down now are the same as what will be there five, 10 and 15 years from now. Barring some monstrous, conscious effort to change. Putting in that conscious effort now, though hard at times, strikes me as having rather tangible benefits down the road.
How we deal with a temper tantrum now is very much the same as how we will deal with pubescent freak-outs and teenaged righteous indignation. The details will be markedly different but the parental mindset from which we approach the situation of our child behaving inappropriately will differ hardly at all, the foundations having been laid down years before. I'm not there yet so I don't know; I could be wrong. But I don't think I am.
I like to think that Amy and I are doing a pretty decent job of it with our two boys. We both keep a relatively even emotional keel and share a passion for the fact that our sons are where it's at right now. All else is secondary. We even mostly manage to compensate for varying quirks of personality. When my wife has a tendency to get rather distraught over apparent medical emergencies (kid crying and gasping for breath; wife giving birth in our bedroom), I'm more level-headed and pragmatic. When I get bent out of shape over the domestic minutiae that frequently piles up past my ability to accept (last pair of clean underwear, various bits of house being chewed by dogs), Amy goes a long way to diffuse my volatility. Our being good for each other is one less obstacle to being good parents. Indeed, a key ingredient.
We're doing our best to be conscious parents. A lot of this means, for us, establishing routines early (which aren't set in stone) and definitely not getting bent out of shape when they're not followed. If Declan, in exerting his fledgling independence, doesn't want to eat dinner with us at the table, he's welcome to take his grilled cheese sandwich and sit on the back step, left to munch and stare as the dogs carouse in the yard.
That gal I knew was in a constant battle of wills with her son, and I think it will always be so for them: both very unyielding. I frequently got the impression that one of them was going to snap. If Amy and I adopt, now, the practice of bending where the consequence is little more than the exploration of individuality, then the individual established in the future will be imbued with a much greater sense of having arrived - wherever he is - under his own volition. And he will be unbroken, and flexible.
Just as importantly, if my wife and I can learn to deal with minor tantrums over toaster waffles and broken toys in a level-headed manner that won't compromise or damage our boys' will, then the larger issues that rear in adolescence will be, ideally, less of an issue and dealt with maturely by kid and parent alike.
The concept, at least, is simple.
That's basically it, right there. I think a good thing to ask yourself is this (using the wanting to eat outside thing as an example): if Amy said she wanted to eat supper sitting on the back step, would you refuse to let her? No, because you love her. You want her to enjoy her life. It's really the same with kids. As long as what they want to do isn't hurting them or anyone else, then why not? No reason to be so hemmed in by convention that the delights of breaking rank can't be appreciated.
That's what makes for a teenager who still has imagination and energy and isn't afraid to think outside the box. And, more importantly, will happily share his enthusiasms with you.
Posted by: marian | Tuesday, 22 August 2006 at 09:49 AM
I remember quite clearly one day at my house several years ago. My parents were visiting for dinner. Matthew (who was about three or so at the time) was tugging at my sleeve, and asking me for something. I said, "no."
My mother looked at me and asked, "why not?" It occurred to me that I did not have a reason why not. When I thought about it, I realised there was no good reason to deny him what he was asking for at that moment (the specific details are lost in the haze of time, but I remember the situation like it was yesterday). It had just been a knee jerk response to a question I really hadn't paid any attention to.
From that day forward, whenever Matthew has asked me for something, I have thought about the question before answering. The answer may still be no, but if it is, I have a darn good reason for it, and am prepared to explain it to him if requested.
Funny how our lives can be so affected by a instant in time.
Posted by: Paul | Tuesday, 22 August 2006 at 12:13 PM
Thanks for the post. I've needed a bit of a kick in the pants lately re: taking my kids for granted. My big theory last week was that since my children have allowed me "to become like a child again" in the area of wonder and excitement about the world, I figured it was expected that I'd also got a bit of their lack of control and tendency to tantrums and tears. :)
What an important thing to find the way your family functions and to start it NOW, and not wait for some ethereal time in the future. Like you said, it probably won't happen.
So, thanks, Simon. Good insights.
Posted by: Dixie | Tuesday, 22 August 2006 at 12:51 PM
It's really rather reassuring to hear that you have the same philosophy as I do regarding allowing your kids to do their own thing. Who cares if he wants to eat dinner walking around? I never eat at the table unless we're having company. Why should I expect him to sit down to a conventional dinner every night? I like to think of it as picking your battles.
Posted by: Tasha | Tuesday, 22 August 2006 at 04:55 PM
Wish I could tell you that your and Amy's very intelligent and insightful ideas on parenting will serve you well, grasshopper. For the most part, they will and I congratulate you in advance. But let me tell you, JuJu (and I don't think she will mind me telling you this) turned inside out and into an entirely different child around age 12 and nothing, repeat NOTHING ever worked again. Small miracle either of us lived to tell about it. What I guess I'm trying to convey here is that you always have to allow for (and expect) the unexpected. With prayers and determination though, you end up with a prize like Ju ;-)
Posted by: Linda | Wednesday, 23 August 2006 at 05:21 AM
I can't believe she told you that.
;)
Posted by: JuJuBee | Wednesday, 23 August 2006 at 10:25 AM
Great post, very insightful. I often forget that I should not be engaging in a battle of wills with my toddler. Perhaps if I remember your blog entry next time trying to get my son to do something I'll relax a little bit. I'm having my wife read this one.
Posted by: Alvis | Wednesday, 23 August 2006 at 11:19 AM
No, Simon you are quite wrong. The beauty of living with children is that you learn, and the same mistakes (and hard-headedness) you make when your children are willful toddlers will not be duplicated when they are teens. For one, you have learned WHO your child is, and that not every thing they do is a reflection of how you parent. I, too, always thought I'd have a terrible time with teenage years given the terrible twos (from 18 mo. to 5 years, in my case) of my daughter, but the intervening years have given me a much better appreciation of who she is and how I can best deal with her, given that.
Posted by: Paula | Thursday, 24 August 2006 at 09:03 AM
Paula, I think we're both right. The point I was trying to make was, in part, the importance of learning from the experience we garner early on in parenting. Your awareness of the tough toddler years gives you new insight into your growing kids. The young mother I knew, for the entire time I knew her, never changed her approach to raising her son, even though it was painfully obvious that she wasn't learning from her (and the boy's) mistakes.
To use your words, she didn't get a better appreciation of who her son was or how to deal with him.
So by saying that our approach will be the same now as in the teenage years, I meant the intent to learn from the experience and approach it from a point of empathy, rather than implying our actions will be the same.
Posted by: Simon | Thursday, 24 August 2006 at 10:28 AM