This year I resolved to start a regular exercise regime. I would be at the gym right now, but I had to write this column. And though I resolved to eat healthier, I’m subsisting on cookies and coffee to keep me awake into the wee hours so I can meet my deadline. I also resolved to submit my columns earlier, but I’ve managed to fill all my writing time creating to do lists and tidying up, even though I resolved to stop procrastinating, and to save cleanup for day’s end after the messers all go to bed. And you can see my resolution to stop making excuses isn’t going so well either.
So here we are, four days into the new year (at this writing) and the score is Old Habits-6, Resolutions-0.
Apparently, I’m not alone. Studies have shown that 40-45% of adults make New Year’s resolutions, but 25-30% are broken within the first week and half disappear within six months.
The most common resolutions center around improving health, finances, job situations, social connections, or organizational skills; learning something new; or helping others. All of these are admirable goals, and some are easier to accomplish than others. In addition, some people are actually wired for change more than others, so that may explain why some friends may make a major change effortlessly each year while others struggle for decades to change one thing.
Historically, I have not been very successful at keeping my resolutions, so this year I am going to try to apply some advice from experts and successful resolution-keepers as well my own past experiences, which I thought I would share with you:
First and foremost, the desire to change has to come from within. If you are trying to change to please somebody else, it probably won’t happen. So, “nag less” is not on my list.
Expect success. Many resolutions fail because people expect them to fail. Henry Ford once said, “Whether you believe you can do a thing or not, you are right.” So like the little engine, “I think I can.”
Be your own cheerleader. Some self-doubt is natural, but you can propel yourself past it with positive self-talk. I like to create a short mantra to combat my negative thoughts. Repeat it, write it down, post it on your bathroom mirror. For example, if you want to ask for a promotion, thinking “I deserve this” can keep you focused and calm your nerves. I’m going to post “Cleaning before dinner is a waste of time.” on my refrigerator to remind me to make better use of my valuable time.
Taking small steps works better than aiming high. I think one reason my resolutions rarely last through January is that my goals are too broad. “Eat better”, “Exercise”, “Write more”, and “Stop procrastinating” are all good objectives, but there is little guidance in those phrases as to how to make them happen. This year I am going to reduce the number of resolutions, and increase the specifics for each action plan. How will I create healthier meals? When will I exercise? Where do I want to get published? As for procrastinating? Well, “just do it” is my mantra for that one (because, truth be told, in the time it takes to write my “to do” list, I could have completed half the things on it.)
Change your environment, if necessary. You won’t be able to quit smoking if your main social circle is the smoker huddle outside your office. And you can’t write your novel sitting between children doing homework at the kitchen table.
Implement rewards after each small victory. But be careful. A reward should be something that furthers your success rather than returns you to old habits (e.g. buying a new outfit after weight loss rather than “treating yourself” to an ice cream sundae).
Secure solid social support. Revealing your resolutions to others helps make you more accountable, but be sure to choose supporters who will applaud your successes and accept your occasional setbacks. And if you’re chosen to support, remember to be a fan, not a critic.
Because there will be setbacks. Adjust your expectations, forgive your mistakes, and be patient. A behavior that has been established over decades is not likely to be changed overnight.
So if you come by my house in the afternoon and it’s a mess, congratulate me on changing my ways.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Unhealthy Competition
We all know them. That friend, or colleague, or family member who can, and does, compete with everyone about everything. No matter how bad your day, their day was worse. No matter how busy your weekend, theirs was busier. No matter how big your injury, theirs is bigger. No matter how great (or difficult) your children are, theirs are better (or worse). For these people, everything is a competition, whether it makes them look good or bad.
Most of us probably can identify this type fairly quickly, and either learn to avoid them or at least alter our expectations about their responses so that they don’t bother us so much. In these cases, we can limit our exposure.
But what about when the competitor isn’t so easy to avoid? What happens when your main competition is with the one you are supposed to care for most, your spouse?
Sometimes the competition is an unambiguous quest for superiority that is clearly measurable. Who is the better tennis player? Who gets paid more? Who wins Scrabble more often?
But oftentimes, the competition is more vague. Who is a better parent? Who works harder? Who makes the better decisions? This often expands to include a competition over “Who is the least appreciated?” with the overarching question then becoming “Who has it worse?” Ironically, the “winning” partner then feels superior. How warped is that? “My life is worse than yours! I win!
Competition can be out in the open, as when one spouse challenges another to a game or contest. (“I’m superior.”) It can be subtle, as with the wife who always has an opposing argument to her husband’s perspective, but presents it with a smile. (“I’m smarter.”) Or it can be covert as with the father who buys his child a new toy couched with the promise, “But don’t tell your mom.” (“Our child likes me more.”) It can even be subconscious as with the wife that promises to plan the weekly schedule with her husband to ensure a balance of childcare, but then repeatedly has last minute obligations that leaves him alone with the children yet another night. (“I’m busier than you.” or “My schedule is more important than yours.”)
Such competition does not build strong bonds between spouses. Instead it chips away at the core attributes of a good relationship including trust, respect, and love. Spouses may intentionally or subconsciously set each other up for failure, in order to be able to say, “I’m better than you” at the end.
Such competition can also be damaging to the family. When spouses compete for “favorite parent” status, they often undermine the other parent in the process. It may not be intentional, but I’d bet most of our children could tell you which parent lets them do/have/buy the most and where each parent’s insecurities lie, and trust me, they will use this against you.
So why do we compete with the one who is supposed to be our biggest ally? Aren’t we on the same team? A competition is a win-lose situation, so if you win, that means your partner must lose. Who’s going to want to stay around if they are always the loser?
If we view our relationships as a team, then we should be seeking ways to create win-win situations. We don’t have to agree on everything, but we can agree to disagree respectfully. Both partners can be acknowledged for their contributions. Nobody has to lose. Nobody has to give in. Nobody has to be humiliated.
Of course, this might mean we will have to acknowledge that we don’t know it all and sometimes we might have to ask for help. We might even have to admit that we aren’t always working harder, sleeping less, or feeling worse, and offer some comfort to our partner who is.
I read somewhere that marriage is not 50/50, it’s 100/100. We’re in it together, and if we feel unappreciated, it is likely that our partners do as well. What if we competed to see who showed the most appreciation for the other, who could make the other laugh most, or who could be the kindest? Now that’s a competition I could get into.
Most of us probably can identify this type fairly quickly, and either learn to avoid them or at least alter our expectations about their responses so that they don’t bother us so much. In these cases, we can limit our exposure.
But what about when the competitor isn’t so easy to avoid? What happens when your main competition is with the one you are supposed to care for most, your spouse?
Sometimes the competition is an unambiguous quest for superiority that is clearly measurable. Who is the better tennis player? Who gets paid more? Who wins Scrabble more often?
But oftentimes, the competition is more vague. Who is a better parent? Who works harder? Who makes the better decisions? This often expands to include a competition over “Who is the least appreciated?” with the overarching question then becoming “Who has it worse?” Ironically, the “winning” partner then feels superior. How warped is that? “My life is worse than yours! I win!
Competition can be out in the open, as when one spouse challenges another to a game or contest. (“I’m superior.”) It can be subtle, as with the wife who always has an opposing argument to her husband’s perspective, but presents it with a smile. (“I’m smarter.”) Or it can be covert as with the father who buys his child a new toy couched with the promise, “But don’t tell your mom.” (“Our child likes me more.”) It can even be subconscious as with the wife that promises to plan the weekly schedule with her husband to ensure a balance of childcare, but then repeatedly has last minute obligations that leaves him alone with the children yet another night. (“I’m busier than you.” or “My schedule is more important than yours.”)
Such competition does not build strong bonds between spouses. Instead it chips away at the core attributes of a good relationship including trust, respect, and love. Spouses may intentionally or subconsciously set each other up for failure, in order to be able to say, “I’m better than you” at the end.
Such competition can also be damaging to the family. When spouses compete for “favorite parent” status, they often undermine the other parent in the process. It may not be intentional, but I’d bet most of our children could tell you which parent lets them do/have/buy the most and where each parent’s insecurities lie, and trust me, they will use this against you.
So why do we compete with the one who is supposed to be our biggest ally? Aren’t we on the same team? A competition is a win-lose situation, so if you win, that means your partner must lose. Who’s going to want to stay around if they are always the loser?
If we view our relationships as a team, then we should be seeking ways to create win-win situations. We don’t have to agree on everything, but we can agree to disagree respectfully. Both partners can be acknowledged for their contributions. Nobody has to lose. Nobody has to give in. Nobody has to be humiliated.
Of course, this might mean we will have to acknowledge that we don’t know it all and sometimes we might have to ask for help. We might even have to admit that we aren’t always working harder, sleeping less, or feeling worse, and offer some comfort to our partner who is.
I read somewhere that marriage is not 50/50, it’s 100/100. We’re in it together, and if we feel unappreciated, it is likely that our partners do as well. What if we competed to see who showed the most appreciation for the other, who could make the other laugh most, or who could be the kindest? Now that’s a competition I could get into.
Focus On Happiness
One recent Sunday, I was flicking through the string of cable news networks when I heard a sound bite on CNN, “Studies find women are less happy than men.” I put down the remote.
According to the segment, several recent studies, including the General Social Survey which has tracked American’s mood since 1972, have found that women’s happiness is declining while men’s happiness is increasing.
As if to provide me with the perfect parenthetical comment, one of the male commentators said, “That’s because we get to live with them and they have to live with us.” I swear I did not write that myself.
But seriously, what is it that is bringing women down? On the surface, it appears that we have more opportunities available to us than ever before in history. Could it be that choices add stress rather than relieving it?
Marcus Buckingham, author of Find Your Strongest Life: What the Happiest and Most Successful Women Do Differently, thinks so. He says “Choice is inherently stressful, and women are being driven to distraction.”
In 1970, when women reported being happier than men, women had fewer expectations and more hope for the future. They compared themselves to other women, but focused on their home, their kids, their gardens. Now we compare ourselves not just to women but to men, and we assess our homes, our kids, our gardens, our careers, our activities, our ability to juggle multiple responsibilities, and so on.
Buckingham noted that women’s unhappiness grows over time. “Though women begin their lives more fulfilled than men, as they age, they gradually become less happy.” Perhaps this is because women tend to be “caretakers”, and as their families add members, the amount of caretaking grows exponentially. In addition, we now find ourselves taking care of our aging parents along with our toddlers.
In a recent article on this topic for The New York Times, Maureen Dowd argued that women take things more personally than men and are harder on themselves when they have to split their attention amongst all the important things that are crowded into their lives. They build stronger personal attachments with others and have greater regrets about losing these attachments. They also experience more pressure than men to maintain an attractive and specifically youthful appearance as they age, and have fewer options for finding companionship later in life.
Now, I am not using this space to send a message to our men about our tough lives, to reiterate that women do substantially more than men in the household (though this has been proven again and again in research studies, even when both spouses work outside the home) and to request greater appreciation for our efforts. Not this time.
This time I want to send a message to women about how we live our lives, to encourage us to do what feels good for our families instead of what we think we should do, to stop comparing ourselves to our neighbors (who more often than not are hiding their completely understandable flaws behind their perfectly painted white picket fences), to slow down.
For a start, let’s cut down on the multi-tasking.
We may impress ourselves with our ability to juggle multiple tasks and children, to cook dinner and clean up the kitchen at the same time, to email while helping our teen with her homework, or catch up on phone calls while swinging our son in the park. But how many of us collapse at the end of a day of non-stop activity, only to wonder why so many things that had been started remain incomplete. How many times do we struggle to remember exactly what our child told us about his school day, or to recall what we meant to write in the calendar after that phone call, or just where we put down that glass. If we really focused on it we might realize that each interaction got a little less of us than we thought.
In his recent book, The Guinea Pig Diaries, A.J. Jacobs spent a month avoiding multitasking altogether. When he visited Darien Library last week, he told his audience that during this month he felt more connected to each task as he did it and found “…life was slowing down – in a good way….” Furthermore, he cited studies that showed multitasking makes us less happy and less [not more] productive.
As women, we often joke that men aren’t capable of doing more than one thing at a time. But perhaps they are having the last laugh. I don’t know about you, but I could use a few more of those.
According to the segment, several recent studies, including the General Social Survey which has tracked American’s mood since 1972, have found that women’s happiness is declining while men’s happiness is increasing.
As if to provide me with the perfect parenthetical comment, one of the male commentators said, “That’s because we get to live with them and they have to live with us.” I swear I did not write that myself.
But seriously, what is it that is bringing women down? On the surface, it appears that we have more opportunities available to us than ever before in history. Could it be that choices add stress rather than relieving it?
Marcus Buckingham, author of Find Your Strongest Life: What the Happiest and Most Successful Women Do Differently, thinks so. He says “Choice is inherently stressful, and women are being driven to distraction.”
In 1970, when women reported being happier than men, women had fewer expectations and more hope for the future. They compared themselves to other women, but focused on their home, their kids, their gardens. Now we compare ourselves not just to women but to men, and we assess our homes, our kids, our gardens, our careers, our activities, our ability to juggle multiple responsibilities, and so on.
Buckingham noted that women’s unhappiness grows over time. “Though women begin their lives more fulfilled than men, as they age, they gradually become less happy.” Perhaps this is because women tend to be “caretakers”, and as their families add members, the amount of caretaking grows exponentially. In addition, we now find ourselves taking care of our aging parents along with our toddlers.
In a recent article on this topic for The New York Times, Maureen Dowd argued that women take things more personally than men and are harder on themselves when they have to split their attention amongst all the important things that are crowded into their lives. They build stronger personal attachments with others and have greater regrets about losing these attachments. They also experience more pressure than men to maintain an attractive and specifically youthful appearance as they age, and have fewer options for finding companionship later in life.
Now, I am not using this space to send a message to our men about our tough lives, to reiterate that women do substantially more than men in the household (though this has been proven again and again in research studies, even when both spouses work outside the home) and to request greater appreciation for our efforts. Not this time.
This time I want to send a message to women about how we live our lives, to encourage us to do what feels good for our families instead of what we think we should do, to stop comparing ourselves to our neighbors (who more often than not are hiding their completely understandable flaws behind their perfectly painted white picket fences), to slow down.
For a start, let’s cut down on the multi-tasking.
We may impress ourselves with our ability to juggle multiple tasks and children, to cook dinner and clean up the kitchen at the same time, to email while helping our teen with her homework, or catch up on phone calls while swinging our son in the park. But how many of us collapse at the end of a day of non-stop activity, only to wonder why so many things that had been started remain incomplete. How many times do we struggle to remember exactly what our child told us about his school day, or to recall what we meant to write in the calendar after that phone call, or just where we put down that glass. If we really focused on it we might realize that each interaction got a little less of us than we thought.
In his recent book, The Guinea Pig Diaries, A.J. Jacobs spent a month avoiding multitasking altogether. When he visited Darien Library last week, he told his audience that during this month he felt more connected to each task as he did it and found “…life was slowing down – in a good way….” Furthermore, he cited studies that showed multitasking makes us less happy and less [not more] productive.
As women, we often joke that men aren’t capable of doing more than one thing at a time. But perhaps they are having the last laugh. I don’t know about you, but I could use a few more of those.
Parenting for The Long Run
When I first learned that I was going to have a child, I knew that my life was going to change immensely. I knew it would be hard to adjust to the loss of freedom and lack of sleep, to sharing my every minute with another after more than a decade of self-indulgent adult living, to being responsible for keeping another person alive. I think I was prepared for the physical responsibility, but I don’t think I really understood the emotional responsibility that was in store.
Early on the focus was on the physical – feeding, diapering, sleeping schedules, vaccines. The need to discipline came next, but it began primarily around safety issues and clear cut do’s and don’t’s.
But as we entered the school years, it started to become clear that it is not enough for us as parents just to keep our children alive during their formative years. We are responsible for creating personalities that will be out there in the real world, existing and interacting with other people, crafting the future of the country and the planet, and likely continuing the cycle with families of their own.
Our actions and reactions will determine how our children handle rejection and frustration, respond to limitations, manage time, money and other resources, and interact with others. We teach the basics such as personal hygiene, healthy eating, and manners, but also shape character by demonstrating patience, integrity, responsibility, trustworthiness, gratitude, moderation, compassion, empathy. These are attributes that are not inherent. If we want our children to have them, they have to come from us.
And guess what? Our children aren’t always very receptive to learning them.
It seems like almost every situation that presents itself offers the opportunity for a lesson to be learned or a boundary to be established. I can give a treat or I can require it be earned to encourage acceptance of delayed gratification. I can feed the yet-again unfed goldfish, or I can let it die to show the consequences of lapsed responsibility. I can buy and wrap the birthday gift myself, or I can spend hours watching my child choose a gift and use an entire roll of tape to wrap it to teach him about budgeting, generosity, and presentation. I can pick up the messes or I can endure a whole lot of complaining while requiring all family members to clean up after themselves. I can dress the children myself in seconds, or I can watch as they put their pants on first backwards then forwards, and then their shirts on first backwards then forwards, then pull and twist on their socks and criss-cross their shoes until they have succeeded on their own.
My mantra for parenting is “Don’t let them do once what you don’t want them to do always” but I’m not always great at its implementation. Sometimes, I want to say, “yes, yes, yes” instead of “no, no, no.” Sometimes I want to do it myself instead of waiting for them to take initiative, be responsible, or master a new skill. Sometimes I want to drop the teacher role and just get on with the day.
Sometimes I take shortcuts, using tricks to get my children to do what I want while making it seem like they are getting what they want. I’ve replaced numerous torn books and broken toys with “repaired” duplicates. I’ve said, “I’ll be right back” as I tucked my son into bed, hoping he would fall asleep before I returned (hours later). I’ve “misread” directions to ensure a game is played with little conflict and a lot of speed.
I know I’m not alone with my tricks, as the many recent cookbooks featuring vegetables hidden in favorite foods fit in this category. On the surface, it seems like a happy compromise for all, but in the long-run the child does not learn to handle loss, go to sleep on their own, be a good sport, or make healthy food choices (remember, that restaurant mac ‘n cheese has no squash in it). And our job becomes harder, not easier.
Parenting for the long-term is much more difficult than I expected, but I hear the rewards are coming someday if I can just be patient. I wish I could just throw a tantrum instead, but that never got me anywhere.
Early on the focus was on the physical – feeding, diapering, sleeping schedules, vaccines. The need to discipline came next, but it began primarily around safety issues and clear cut do’s and don’t’s.
But as we entered the school years, it started to become clear that it is not enough for us as parents just to keep our children alive during their formative years. We are responsible for creating personalities that will be out there in the real world, existing and interacting with other people, crafting the future of the country and the planet, and likely continuing the cycle with families of their own.
Our actions and reactions will determine how our children handle rejection and frustration, respond to limitations, manage time, money and other resources, and interact with others. We teach the basics such as personal hygiene, healthy eating, and manners, but also shape character by demonstrating patience, integrity, responsibility, trustworthiness, gratitude, moderation, compassion, empathy. These are attributes that are not inherent. If we want our children to have them, they have to come from us.
And guess what? Our children aren’t always very receptive to learning them.
It seems like almost every situation that presents itself offers the opportunity for a lesson to be learned or a boundary to be established. I can give a treat or I can require it be earned to encourage acceptance of delayed gratification. I can feed the yet-again unfed goldfish, or I can let it die to show the consequences of lapsed responsibility. I can buy and wrap the birthday gift myself, or I can spend hours watching my child choose a gift and use an entire roll of tape to wrap it to teach him about budgeting, generosity, and presentation. I can pick up the messes or I can endure a whole lot of complaining while requiring all family members to clean up after themselves. I can dress the children myself in seconds, or I can watch as they put their pants on first backwards then forwards, and then their shirts on first backwards then forwards, then pull and twist on their socks and criss-cross their shoes until they have succeeded on their own.
My mantra for parenting is “Don’t let them do once what you don’t want them to do always” but I’m not always great at its implementation. Sometimes, I want to say, “yes, yes, yes” instead of “no, no, no.” Sometimes I want to do it myself instead of waiting for them to take initiative, be responsible, or master a new skill. Sometimes I want to drop the teacher role and just get on with the day.
Sometimes I take shortcuts, using tricks to get my children to do what I want while making it seem like they are getting what they want. I’ve replaced numerous torn books and broken toys with “repaired” duplicates. I’ve said, “I’ll be right back” as I tucked my son into bed, hoping he would fall asleep before I returned (hours later). I’ve “misread” directions to ensure a game is played with little conflict and a lot of speed.
I know I’m not alone with my tricks, as the many recent cookbooks featuring vegetables hidden in favorite foods fit in this category. On the surface, it seems like a happy compromise for all, but in the long-run the child does not learn to handle loss, go to sleep on their own, be a good sport, or make healthy food choices (remember, that restaurant mac ‘n cheese has no squash in it). And our job becomes harder, not easier.
Parenting for the long-term is much more difficult than I expected, but I hear the rewards are coming someday if I can just be patient. I wish I could just throw a tantrum instead, but that never got me anywhere.
No Bull(y)
Going back to school means a lot of things to children – new clothes and school supplies, earlier bedtimes, reconnecting with friends, busy but more regular schedules. Unfortunately, for some kids, going back to school can also mean fear, frustration, and anxiety, especially for those who are bullied.
When you think of a “bully”, you may picture the traditional big kid demanding lunch money from the little guy, kicking sand in his face, or knocking his books on the ground. But bullies come in many more shapes and sizes than that.
Bullies exist at every age group, in every socioeconomic class, in every culture. Some may fit the bigger and stronger stereotype, but others may not, like pretty young girls who ridicule those who don’t fit into their clique. Some may attack with words rather than with fists. And some may even hide behind a computer screen.
For parents of a bullied child, it is not always easy to know when to fight for them and when to stand back. Our instinct may be to come to the rescue, call the bully’s parents, or complain to the school, but as a first step, it may be better to offer guidance as to how our children can confront the bully on their own. Remember our ultimate goal is to prepare them for the bullies they will meet down the road (at college, in the office, or in their future family lives) when we will not be there.
We can help by offering our children a safe, non-judgmental ear, helping our children to understand that they never “deserve” to be bullied and that anyone who is participating is not their friend, and teaching our children how to assert themselves so they will not appear to be the easy target that most bullies seek.
Saying “Stop that” or “Don’t touch me” in a strong, loud tone may be enough to send a bully looking for a quieter victim. Role-playing is a great way to help our children practice what they want to say. Have the children play the bully first so they can use dialogue that they have experienced first-hand (this may also be an easier way for them to share what is happening). Then, in the child’s role, we can provide detailed scripts and illustrate different outcomes, which may enhance their confidence when it comes time to face their bully alone.
In middle school and high school, our children are less likely to come to us, even when they should, fearing ridicule and even greater bullying if they are revealed as a tattletale. It is at these times that the open communication we encouraged earlier may be critical.
This is also the time that cyberbullying becomes dominant. This is the newest and possibly the scariest form of bullying because it is anonymous and can spread like wildfire. If you tease somebody on the bus, you might be heard by forty kids, but if you tease somebody online (via email, instant messaging, blogs, or social networking sites), it can be seen by hundreds, who then may forward it on to hundreds more. And it may be received in silence as only the bullied child sees the words. [You and your children can get more information on protecting yourself from cyberbullying and other cyber threats at www.cybertipline.com and www.netsmartz.org.]
It is also important to remember that it isn’t only the bullied child that needs help. While the bullies themselves may appear to be extremely confident from the outside (especially to the bullied child), they are often masking their own insecurities by focusing attention on the flaws of another.
So when we hear that our children are the bullies, it may be better to curb our instinct to defend them and instead use this news as an opportunity. We can talk to our children to uncover the reasons for bullying. What are they feeling anxious about? What type of “threat” may the bullied child pose to them (smarter, prettier, teachers’ favorite?) How else can they get respect?
Finally we may need to look at ourselves. What type of model are we providing to our kids? Do we bully others in our own lives? If so, then our children may just be repeating what they see.
No child should have to go to school in fear, be they the bullied or the bully. Hopefully in this school year, they won’t.
When you think of a “bully”, you may picture the traditional big kid demanding lunch money from the little guy, kicking sand in his face, or knocking his books on the ground. But bullies come in many more shapes and sizes than that.
Bullies exist at every age group, in every socioeconomic class, in every culture. Some may fit the bigger and stronger stereotype, but others may not, like pretty young girls who ridicule those who don’t fit into their clique. Some may attack with words rather than with fists. And some may even hide behind a computer screen.
For parents of a bullied child, it is not always easy to know when to fight for them and when to stand back. Our instinct may be to come to the rescue, call the bully’s parents, or complain to the school, but as a first step, it may be better to offer guidance as to how our children can confront the bully on their own. Remember our ultimate goal is to prepare them for the bullies they will meet down the road (at college, in the office, or in their future family lives) when we will not be there.
We can help by offering our children a safe, non-judgmental ear, helping our children to understand that they never “deserve” to be bullied and that anyone who is participating is not their friend, and teaching our children how to assert themselves so they will not appear to be the easy target that most bullies seek.
Saying “Stop that” or “Don’t touch me” in a strong, loud tone may be enough to send a bully looking for a quieter victim. Role-playing is a great way to help our children practice what they want to say. Have the children play the bully first so they can use dialogue that they have experienced first-hand (this may also be an easier way for them to share what is happening). Then, in the child’s role, we can provide detailed scripts and illustrate different outcomes, which may enhance their confidence when it comes time to face their bully alone.
In middle school and high school, our children are less likely to come to us, even when they should, fearing ridicule and even greater bullying if they are revealed as a tattletale. It is at these times that the open communication we encouraged earlier may be critical.
This is also the time that cyberbullying becomes dominant. This is the newest and possibly the scariest form of bullying because it is anonymous and can spread like wildfire. If you tease somebody on the bus, you might be heard by forty kids, but if you tease somebody online (via email, instant messaging, blogs, or social networking sites), it can be seen by hundreds, who then may forward it on to hundreds more. And it may be received in silence as only the bullied child sees the words. [You and your children can get more information on protecting yourself from cyberbullying and other cyber threats at www.cybertipline.com and www.netsmartz.org.]
It is also important to remember that it isn’t only the bullied child that needs help. While the bullies themselves may appear to be extremely confident from the outside (especially to the bullied child), they are often masking their own insecurities by focusing attention on the flaws of another.
So when we hear that our children are the bullies, it may be better to curb our instinct to defend them and instead use this news as an opportunity. We can talk to our children to uncover the reasons for bullying. What are they feeling anxious about? What type of “threat” may the bullied child pose to them (smarter, prettier, teachers’ favorite?) How else can they get respect?
Finally we may need to look at ourselves. What type of model are we providing to our kids? Do we bully others in our own lives? If so, then our children may just be repeating what they see.
No child should have to go to school in fear, be they the bullied or the bully. Hopefully in this school year, they won’t.
Parenthood - The Second Time Around
How many times have you heard someone say, “My children are so completely different, it’s hard to believe they come from the same parents!”?
As a family therapist, and the youngest of six siblings myself, I can tell you that while the parents may be the same, the family experience is definitely different for each child. Think about the start of life for the eldest, the new star of the family living as the only child among adults, versus the situation into which a third or fourth child enters – no longer a novelty, often left waiting while another child is tended to, seeking an identity of their own (perhaps the “rebel” or “clown”) to distinguish them from the others. There may also be other differences in the family structure that affect the family dynamics for each child, like death or divorce, relocation, or a change to the family’s economic situation.
In addition, the home environment is different. While the first often lives in a relatively quiet space disrupted only by baby gurgles and nursery rhymes, subsequent children hear a cacophony of older siblings playing, fighting, and crying while parents are calling, commanding, and shouting (and maybe occasionally laughing). Baby Einstein videos compete with Spongebob Squarepants, and once carefully child-proofed rooms are now strewn with assorted little pieces of everything.
Yes, I can thoroughly explain to clients and friends how the environment into which each child is born differs. I can spew findings on birth order and the influence of gender and age differences on such findings. But until I had my second child, I didn’t realize the extent of the difference in the parents themselves.
We are all familiar with (and perhaps have been) the clichéd first-time parents – overly cautious, following all the rules to a tee, terrified that one mistake will be fatal to their jewel of a child, whose every moment is documented through still photos, video, and a detailed baby book. These parents then go on to have a second child (or third, fourth, fifth, etc.) who is left to cry a little longer (“good for his lungs”), gets the pacifier that fell on the floor (citing the “five second rule”), and will someday find his early photos tossed in a shoebox with his birth certificate. We think these parents have gained confidence while losing their last speck of free time, but they are the same people right?
These days when I look in the mirror, I’m not so sure. Because even when I can see through the dark undereye circles and past the gray hair, I still don’t recognize the woman looking back.
I was never a wild party girl, but at one time, I was at least a little adventurous, spontaneous, sometimes even silly. I was social and up to date on the world around me. Now I am tired, really tired. I’m distracted by the list of to do’s constantly running in my head. I second-guess any actions that may be at all risky and cancel plans that are too complicated to fulfill with an infant in tow. Basically, I am just no fun.
And I’m cranky. My firstborn didn’t hear a harsh tone from me until he was probably two years old. My second child, unfortunately, has heard that tone since we got home from the hospital, directed at her older brother when I let him push my buttons. I wonder what she must think when she sees the look of frustration on the face she trusts the most. Do I scare her with my rapid transition from lullabies to reprimands? Because sometimes I scare myself. And I wonder, as I’m sure do my children, “Who is that crazy lady, and what happened to the nice woman who was singing, dancing, and laughing moments ago?”
So what will this mean to my daughter as she grows? Will she be more obedient early on to avoid my “wrath”? Or will she instead rebel earlier in an effort to take control from the get-go? And will I ever recognize myself in the mirror again?
Sometimes I think it may be my memory of the past that is distorted. Perhaps I haven’t changed that much. But then I’m not sure which is worse – that I’ve lost my old self or that this is who I always was.
As a family therapist, and the youngest of six siblings myself, I can tell you that while the parents may be the same, the family experience is definitely different for each child. Think about the start of life for the eldest, the new star of the family living as the only child among adults, versus the situation into which a third or fourth child enters – no longer a novelty, often left waiting while another child is tended to, seeking an identity of their own (perhaps the “rebel” or “clown”) to distinguish them from the others. There may also be other differences in the family structure that affect the family dynamics for each child, like death or divorce, relocation, or a change to the family’s economic situation.
In addition, the home environment is different. While the first often lives in a relatively quiet space disrupted only by baby gurgles and nursery rhymes, subsequent children hear a cacophony of older siblings playing, fighting, and crying while parents are calling, commanding, and shouting (and maybe occasionally laughing). Baby Einstein videos compete with Spongebob Squarepants, and once carefully child-proofed rooms are now strewn with assorted little pieces of everything.
Yes, I can thoroughly explain to clients and friends how the environment into which each child is born differs. I can spew findings on birth order and the influence of gender and age differences on such findings. But until I had my second child, I didn’t realize the extent of the difference in the parents themselves.
We are all familiar with (and perhaps have been) the clichéd first-time parents – overly cautious, following all the rules to a tee, terrified that one mistake will be fatal to their jewel of a child, whose every moment is documented through still photos, video, and a detailed baby book. These parents then go on to have a second child (or third, fourth, fifth, etc.) who is left to cry a little longer (“good for his lungs”), gets the pacifier that fell on the floor (citing the “five second rule”), and will someday find his early photos tossed in a shoebox with his birth certificate. We think these parents have gained confidence while losing their last speck of free time, but they are the same people right?
These days when I look in the mirror, I’m not so sure. Because even when I can see through the dark undereye circles and past the gray hair, I still don’t recognize the woman looking back.
I was never a wild party girl, but at one time, I was at least a little adventurous, spontaneous, sometimes even silly. I was social and up to date on the world around me. Now I am tired, really tired. I’m distracted by the list of to do’s constantly running in my head. I second-guess any actions that may be at all risky and cancel plans that are too complicated to fulfill with an infant in tow. Basically, I am just no fun.
And I’m cranky. My firstborn didn’t hear a harsh tone from me until he was probably two years old. My second child, unfortunately, has heard that tone since we got home from the hospital, directed at her older brother when I let him push my buttons. I wonder what she must think when she sees the look of frustration on the face she trusts the most. Do I scare her with my rapid transition from lullabies to reprimands? Because sometimes I scare myself. And I wonder, as I’m sure do my children, “Who is that crazy lady, and what happened to the nice woman who was singing, dancing, and laughing moments ago?”
So what will this mean to my daughter as she grows? Will she be more obedient early on to avoid my “wrath”? Or will she instead rebel earlier in an effort to take control from the get-go? And will I ever recognize myself in the mirror again?
Sometimes I think it may be my memory of the past that is distorted. Perhaps I haven’t changed that much. But then I’m not sure which is worse – that I’ve lost my old self or that this is who I always was.
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