Part of a recent comment got me to thinking. Francois said, "If parenthood has taught me anything, it's that mercy is weakness. Children are like water and rules are the levees." As soon as you talk to his wife, you find that Francois ain't nearly as despotic as he tries to come off, but he does incite cogitation. (And sometimes exasperation.)
I agree with the principle of the second bit. Rules and boundaries are uber-important. However, I also think that healthy doses of mercy and compassion, doled out within those boundaries, are equally critical. This, to me, seems intuitive. (I'm not saying the despot doesn't think so, but the context of the comment got me to thinking.)
For me, this raises one of the single biggest dilemmas my wife and I face in the rearing of our boys. Where do we set boundaries and how rigidly do we enforce them? We don't want a couple of feral teenagers rampaging through our house some years from now, but neither do we want unthinking automatons stumbling about in some masculine parody of the Stepford Wives.
To date, Amy and I (in our minds, anyway) have done a pretty good job of setting routines, being mostly strict about adherence to them, and inflicting all sorts of unconditional love on our kids within that milieu. As I think most any parent fears, we don't know for sure if we're doing it right. And there are times we're driven to thoughts of chucking one or both boys through the nearest window out of sheer frustration; surely a sign of the wantonness of our children and not our own shortcomings, right? (Filial defenestration is never the answer.)
I mean, the adults that get puked out the other end of this parenting gig when Amy and I are forced to take a passive role in spawning our sons will tell the tale. At the same time we're afraid (or at least moderately alarmed) of what men we'll see, we also don't want that fear to colour our current interaction with them; that is, it would surely suck if we failed to do something for fear of it being the wrong thing. Inaction can be no less a bad thing than a bad action.
Ah! Fecundity is a double-edged sword!
Also, I think that Western customs and traditions concerning parenting are seriously fucked. It is considered the norm for two youth, barely out of childhood themselves, to spend some vigorous amount of time revelling in the fleshy delights each finds in the other, form a nest of their own away from that of their parents, set aside childish ways and assume the rather onerous task of bringing new life into this world under the naively hopeful assumption they'll do it right. Instinctively, perhaps? All I know, two and a half short years into this long journey, is that aside from knowing how to keep 'em fed, warm and relatively clean, it's been mostly guess work.
That's why we were both pushing 30 before having kids. We weren't ready until then. I can't fathom being my own parents' age (early 20's) and assuming the heavy mantle of Parenthood. I would have seriously fucked it up, or at least done a poorer job than now.
In this role, Amy and I consciously draw from our childhood experiences and we like to think we're mature enough to cull the bad ones from the good, then apply what we think is the best of the morass to our boys. Since what we're doing is so normal, we don't think much about spurning offered aid or running counter to what may have been suggested by those more aged and experienced. WE are the parents and WE will do it all by ourselves, thank you. Our combined ignorance is more powerful than any amount of lucidity you can foist on us!
Seriously, one maxim that runs through my head on a very regular basis is: it takes a village to raise a child. To think that two people can (or should) be nearly entirely responsible for that task is some strange combination of hubris and naïveté. I think the aboriginal North American peoples had a good thing going until Whitey showed up.
I'm not saying we are doing a poor job, by any means. I do think there is a better, healthier, way to raise children. One thing our Western civilisation excels at is doing things the hard way.
Swinging in the wind. That's the best way to describe new parents. There are so many things nobody tells you during those birthin' a baby classes. How hard would it be to form classes that actually covered some topics beyond feeding the freakin' thing?
Because each child is his or her own person, we can't really do that. Were they just robots built and programmed according to spec, a user's manual would be no problem. One kid might absolutely love sitting still for bedtime stories; another might hate it. Or, and this is the fun part, a kid might hate it one night and love it the next.
I'm right there with you on everything you said. It's a credit to us that we contemplate any of this. The men who never do give us all a bad name.
We, too, waited until we were older to have kids. We wife and I married young (19 and 21, respectively), but not until I was 32 did she squeeze out our little one (that's completely the right term for it).
You ever notice that kids raised by their grandparents always seem to be the most well-adjusted, nicest kids? Maybe that's because they didn't have young, impatient, hormone-enraged parents yelling when they shouldn't have and following to the extreme the advice, "make the child fit into your life, not the other way around." Unfortunately, that last often turns into, "dump them onto your parents any time you get invited to a party." Man, the sacrifices I've seen some grandparents make so that their children can remain children after becoming parents. Blows my mind.
Posted by: Mark | Saturday, 21 October 2006 at 12:31 AM
I feel an extremely interesting and thought-provoking commentary coming on. I'm just going to read awhile before I comment. It would be pages long... If I wait a bit, lots of people will say bits and pieces of what I want to say. Call me an old and tired parent (who's very proud of two great kids and 2 1/2 equally great grandkids) with lots of hindsight to share...
Posted by: Linda | Saturday, 21 October 2006 at 06:27 AM
Sometimes it is possible to over think things. One thing my mother always told Pat and I was to trust our instincts in these things. Oh, and then there was the whole, "why not?" question. So maybe there's a balance to be struck.
Posted by: Paul | Saturday, 21 October 2006 at 08:52 AM
You talk about worrying about excess rigidity when they're so young. Kids need boundaries and NOT to be in charge (it promotes all sorts of anxious behaviour otherwise). One of the best things we did was give the kids smaller choices within a finite number of choices (e.g. which of these three shirts do you want to wear today. It usually halts the escalation of the battle over getting dressed at all). Give them a voice, but ultimately, the big decisions and parameters are clearly yours. Not only do the kids learn to think instead of react, so do the parents.
Oops, I guess this counts as "what may have been suggested by those more aged and experienced". Feel free to know it all already ;).
Posted by: Paula | Saturday, 21 October 2006 at 10:01 AM
I think you hit the nail on the head with the following statement: "...it would surely suck if we failed to do something for fear of it being the wrong thing. Inaction can be no less a bad thing than a bad action."
I think the men that grow up to be problems are those whose parent failed to act, not those who chose the "bad action." What I mean is, barring th obvious horrible things parents can do that you guys would never think of in a gazillion years (i.e. abuse), there are no "bad actions". As long as each decision is taken with thought, compassion and love, even if it wasn't ideal, it was a good decision.
Also, as for why our Western culture sucks at raising kids now, I read a great book recently that had a comment about that. Not sure if I wrote it here already, but the gist was that since WWI (or was it WWII?), people started settling father and farther away from their families, for jobs, opportunities, whatever. So the info and help that parents got from their parents was no longer as readily available. That's when psychologists and books started taking over. People were looking for help. The problem is, all those theories are just that, theories. Do those people even have kids? Were they active in raising them? No one really knows, and yet, people are so desperate, they are willing to put their children's futures into their hands.
I'm not trying to say they're all quacks. I use the books too. But it says something about our society nonetheless.
Posted by: Tasha | Saturday, 21 October 2006 at 06:13 PM
I was right...this is a good discussion. It's amazing to me that The Farm seems to attract such intelligent parents.
I always found a good and simple rule of thumb to be this: Raise children with a good balance of head and heart, always a little heavier on the heart side. The monkey wrench in the whole parenting thing is that if you're doing the right thing, it probably hurts a bit. (You more than them...) Watching children learn for themselves is one of the hardest things you'll ever do. I promise you that. And definitely, doing nothing is way more detrimental than doing the "wrong" thing... One of the best things you can do for your kids is to let them see that you are human and flawed.
Posted by: Linda | Sunday, 22 October 2006 at 10:34 AM
I have to agree that the way we raise kids in this western world is horribly isolating. Every couple winds up reinventing the wheel. My take, now that I'm basically done, is that compassion is the thing to be taught. Compassion and respect. I think that a child who understands that his feelings are respected, even if you can't honor his requests, will in turn learn to respect the feelings of others. I found that with little boys in particular, people tend to be a bit cruel, as though boys have no feelings. Adults are, in general, kinder to girls.
Anyway, my advice is to just pay attention to the present moment and the future will take care of itself. Unruly and difficult boys often make for easy teens, and angelic ones vice versa.
Also, if you make a judgment call that you later, be in a minute, an hour or a week, decide was wrong, or harsh -- apologize to your children. That's how they learn that it's okay to change your mind, and to apologize for normal human weakness.
Posted by: marian | Monday, 23 October 2006 at 06:55 AM
The first time I heard the line, "It takes a village to raise a child," I thought, 'the village just needs to mind its own damn business,' and now that my boys are 26 and 22 and doing fine thank you very much, I still feel the same way. Sure there were times we could have used some help from "the village" but we never got it. All we got was bad advice from people who thought they new all about us but didn't.
Too many people give advice and opinions on child-rearing as if they think a child is a blank sheet of paper and a parent has merely to write on it whatever kind of person they want their child to be but it's not that simple. Each child is born an individual with his own mind. You do influence your children but does everyone else they come into contact with. A teenager is an unfinished adult. If your teenager behaves badly it's not your fault, no matter what anyone else says. But in a few years the teenage years will be over and you'll wonder what all the fuss was about.
Ignore most of the advice you get, don't worry too much and just sit back and enjoy the ride. It'll be over way too soon.
Posted by: Lynn S | Tuesday, 24 October 2006 at 07:46 AM
GRRR... I hate when I make stupid errors.
Posted by: Lynn S | Tuesday, 24 October 2006 at 07:48 AM
I'd agree with Lynn S. Sure, it would be nice if my mum was younger and more physically able (she's in her 80's) to babysit my daughter every now and then, and teach her stuff - but then it's nice not to have to dodge unwanted advice and undo new bad habits too.
Posted by: violet | Tuesday, 24 October 2006 at 03:07 PM