Monday, November 5, 2012

Parental Power

What makes me powerful?

Have you ever asked yourself this question? If so, you may have focused on external things, such as economic status, physical strength, or social connections. These are the power sources that are most outwardly valued in our society, and they tend to be the ones most often abused in unhealthy relationships. But these superficial power sources can be easily shaken -- through job loss, accidents, health issues, relocation. For some it is very hard to recover from the resulting powerless feeling.

So it becomes important to identify our internal sources of power, which are actually more stable and long-term. We can ask ourselves, “Who am I?”, “What keeps me moving forward?”, and “What power will I draw on if my external power sources disappear?”

Recently, I was struggling with these questions myself, as frankly, my external power sources are virtually null. I could identify my internal power as sourced from education, not just book learning, but, more importantly, experiences that have informed me about other cultures, taught me about the consequences of my actions, and provided me with some level of “street smarts”. I know I have the power to make my own choices, not always about what happens to me, but about how I react to these things. And I have personal power through privileges I have worked to obtain and to keep, like my driver’s license, passport, jobs, and even this column.

But what makes me powerful in my family? That was more difficult to answer. Yes, I am the “female head of household” and the mother, which should inherently make me feel powerful but doesn’t. I am not the strongest, I am not the breadwinner, I don’t have the type of dynamic personality or decisiveness that compels people to follow my lead, and to date, “Because I’m your mother, that’s why!” has not gotten a lot of results.

But I do set the tone in my house, like it or not, and I realized that when my children go out in the world, they are reflections of my power. As a parent, my greatest power comes from my influence, arguably one of the strongest potential sources of power around.

In an adult relationship, it takes time to understand that we cannot change our partners, but can only influence them with our own actions and reactions. We may expect to be able to force changes more easily in our children because they are younger, smaller, and “ours”, but at a certain point it becomes clear that these too are separate people that cannot be made to behave a certain way or to believe a certain thing. Even with children, our primary source of power is our influence. And our primary source of influence is our own actions.

We may believe that punishments and rewards exert a whole lot of influence, but unless our behavior reflects the same values we are trying to teach, the message will ultimately be lost. Remember the saying, “Do what I say, not what I do”? Well, good luck with that. As parents, our actions are infinitely more powerful than our words.

Our children will not learn respect if we are disrespecttful to others. They will not stop hitting if they see us hit. They will use mean words if they hear our gossip. They will continue to connect drinking with social acceptance if they see us over-indulging at social functions. They learn from watching us.

We may not even be aware of those times when we are having the greatest influence on our family. Who doesn’t remember a time when their loved ones picked up on a negative attitude even when we thought we were hiding behind a grin of deceit? My son can tell when I am not tuned in to his latest video game antics, even when I am physically watching. The kids hear me give an involuntary sigh in the car, even when it is inaudible to me. My husband picks up on the sarcasm in my voice when I say I’m “just kidding”. Just this morning my daughter asked, “Why are you mad, mommy?” when we were playing together. I wasn’t mad, but I was annoyed by the tedium of play-acting yet another fairytale story when we should have been getting ready for school, and apparently this unintended message was written on my face. Her reaction shook me up.

I realize now that my influence gives me a lot of power in my household, and it is stronger than any physical, economic, or social dominance could ever be. But with such power comes responsibility. It can be as protective as an umbrella or as harmful as a loaded gun, and I need to use it carefully.

What Day Is It?

I consider myself pretty technologically savvy. I’m the one who sets the DVR, makes wireless connections, fixes frozen computers, prints and edits digital photos, and downloads apps. But I have been struggling to convert from my old -school datebook to an electronic calendar for about two years now, and it just won’t stick.

When it comes to schedules, I am a visual person. I like to see what’s coming, not just the day or even a full week. I need my monthly grid. I have an emotional response to its combination of cluttered and empty boxes, the anticipation of approaching events, and the planning possibilities for the days ahead. I want to be able to assess what mood I will be in before scheduling something, like a new client (need a clear head), doctor appointment (need extra time for waiting), or sleepover (nothing else on the calendar for two days).

So I have always used monthly datebooks to track my life. But as my life has expanded to include a husband and two kids, I have found it harder to keep our schedules together. Plans are made while on the computer in our home office, or on the kitchen phone, or out at school meetings, so I ended up having calendars hanging at home in the kitchen and office and another carried along in my purse. Each one held a portion of our plans but none had them all. And any attempt at color-coding by person was quickly dropped. So I figured an electronic calendar would solve this problem. After all, I almost always had my phone on me.

But it’s not the same to see a month on a screen with a dot on every day that has an entry, each dot requiring a followup click on the day to see exactly what is there. I know I can print out a paper copy of my electronic month, but that’s yet another step, and one that must be repeated after every change (and you all know how often things change). Besides, a typed chronological list centered in each day’s box does not satisfy my need for the visual cues of listing morning appointments up high and night events down low.

Then, there is the time required to keep my electronic calendar updated. Some may think a typed entry is much sleeker than the tiny scrawls crowding my daily squares, but there is no doubt it is faster to scribble in an appointment than to open an app, choose the affected calendar(s), type in a subject and location, choose a date, choose a start time, choose an end time, note if it a repeating event, and set up alerts. Plus, I usually have to go back to complete whichever of these aforementioned steps I forgot about the first time through, and then again to make a change. In my paper system, a change involves just the swish of an eraser (or scratch of a pen) and another scribble-- done.

Some may think the electronic alert system is a benefit paper calendars cannot provide, but the alert system on my smartphone is truly flawed. It may remind me that it’s your birthday, but if I’m not shopping at that moment, there’s a good chance the alert will be glanced at, deleted, and forgotten within minutes, along with your birthday card. My calendar only allows two alerts leading up to an event, but sometimes I need a steady nag – like an electronic mom. Seeing an important date circled with loopy red pen marks for weeks ahead does that for me.

I have found my electronic calendar also opens me up to some privacy issues. When playing games on my devices, my son has access to the calendar app, so sometimes I find entries like “Go poopy” or “Take me to Friendly’s” on various days. I don’t believe he has erased anything yet (though I’m sorry if I stood you up), but it is just a matter of time before he will figure out how to eliminate a parent-teacher meeting or cancel an unwanted activity.

“Syncing” devices means that some things are shared that I don’t want to be shared. Like when a popup reminder on the iPad interrupts my daughter’s Dora game just when her tantrum has been soothed, or I have to explain to my son what an “OBGYN appt” is, or confirmation of my lunchdate with the girls pops up on my husband’s phone just when I have convinced him that I have no free time.

I’m sure there are high-tech ways to battle these concerns, but I can’t seem to find a block of time to figure it all out. I guess I will just have to write, type, and pencil that in.

Monday, October 8, 2012

Take Care

My son came home upset one day because some of the students in his class had been acting up and the whole class had to put their heads down on their desks for five minutes. I tried to empathize with his frustration at being disciplined for something he didn’t do, but all I could think was, “Man, I wish someone would tell me to put my head down on my desk for five minutes.”

Well, I should have been careful what I wished for because soon after, I got that wish, but not quite as I had hoped. During a poorly-coordinated moment of multitasking, I reached for one child while facing the other and felt a pain unlike any other shoot down my left leg. Even worse, it was on the first day of a family vacation (actually almost the first minute as we were getting into our rental car at the airport) and it didn’t go away on the ride to Grandma’s, or the rest of that day, or the next, or the next. So I spent most of the week doing nothing, but not in a good way. The initial pain eventually subsided, but when it reoccurred months later I sought the help of a physical therapist.

Twice a week, I finally got the chance to put my head down, for more than five minutes.

The problem was this was the only time I would rest. As soon as I got back from the bubble that was my appointment, I would resume life at full-tilt again.

The first directive the therapist gave me was, “Don’t bend forward.” I ask you to try this for one day. You won’t believe how often you bend forward, especially if you are the parent of young children. I concluded that I spend about 60% of my day bending forward…to pick up things, wipe up spills, change diapers, dress myself or my kids, and so on. And it seemed I needed to bend even more once I was told not to, like when the therapist said I should not bend over the crib to kiss my toddler goodnight. I immediately shrugged this concern off as it was something I never really did – until that very evening when I achingly returned to an upright position after bending over the crib rail to kiss my toddler goodnight. Why is it that when someone tells you not to do something, you automatically do it? I guess I understand my kids better now.

Though I went to physical therapy for a few months, I continued to undermine it with my daily life. The physical therapist advised me to rest “…but you don’t have to lie down like a princess or anything,” she clarified. “Please,” I said, “Can you please write me a prescription that says I have to lie down like a princess?” It was the only way it was going to happen.

I was given stretching exercises to do, but they also involved lying down, and as soon as I hit the carpet, my husband would walk in the room and give me a look like, “What are you doing lying down?” or my children would just pile on. In particular, my toddler liked to climb on my legs and slide down them shouting “Wheeeeeee!” That was not on the advised activity list. The therapist said I should try to train my toddler to sit on my legs and massage my back. Yeah, right. I can’t even get my husband to do that.

Eventually, I gave up the physical therapy because I “didn’t have time.” I chose short-term living (“doing”) over long-term life and the pain remained. Clearly my body was trying to tell me something.

It is all too common that we parents care for our children, spouses, households, and careers, but forget to stop and take care of ourselves. Like sharks, we may feel like we’ll die if we stop swimming or maybe drown in a sea of “shoulds”, as in “I should be doing something more.” Sadly, it’s often not until we break down in some way that we recognize the importance of a regular tune-up, something we’d never question for our cars, our homes, or probably even another human being.

Recently. I started practicing yoga to help with my physical issues and my mental health too. I still struggle to make the time for classes, but I am trying harder. Sometimes when I make it to class, I am so happy to be there, I almost start to cry. Finally, for all good reasons, someone is telling me to just lie down.


Friday, September 21, 2012

Facebook Funk

Several years ago in this paper, I wrote a column entitled “Friends” detailing my then recent introduction to Facebook, and my ambivalent response to it. While I liked connecting to old friends, I found I didn’t need to hear much about these old acquaintances’ daily lives after the initial catchup, and I realized many of my facebook friends were not actual “friends”. Additionally, privacy concerns made me hesitant to share much information of my own or to use apps or join groups. In all, I found myself checking in unenthusiastically about once a month.

So when I read that a recent university study found students who were heavier Facebook users were more likely to think other people’s lives were happier and better than theirs, I laughed it off as the technological equivalent of “keeping up with the Joneses”. Apparently, people who are constantly viewing others’ fabulous photos and hearing about others’ amazing children, adventurous travels, and social experiences were getting more depressed about their own lives in comparison. But as a therapist, I know that nobody really knows what’s going on behind closed doors (or in this case, beyond the computer screen). ”Don’t they understand?” I said to anyone who would listen, “People only post the good things. They aren’t posting their real life, just the highlights. You can’t compare your real life to others’ highlights!” And with that, I shrugged the whole thing off.

But over the past few months, a funny thing happened. As my children were getting older and a bit more independent, I found myself spending more time waiting in pickup lines or at home quietly supervising activities rather than participating. My iPhone and iPad (acquired well after my first Facebook column) helped alleviate the boredom, and with them Facebook was just a touch away. I checked in several times a day instead of a few times a month, and sent out friend requests to everyone I knew, hoping that maybe I could build my real network of local friends. I even posted a few times – everything from humorous anecdotes to fun facts, sarcastic complaints to requests for help. I was probably still only on Facebook for 5-10 minutes a day, but I was definitely much more aware of what everyone else was doing. And then I started comparing.

One acquaintance posted an adorable photo of her new baby EVERY DAY and I became a little overfocused on the child’s wardrobe which also seemed to be different every day (EVERY DAY!). I began thinking about how my babies only wore onesie pajamas for the first year of life, most of them stained with spitup. I wondered when I’d ever get my second child’s baby book up-to-date and if I would forget the cute things she said before I wrote them down. I worried about the relatively low mass of videos of child number two, and whether I should be uploading more...and so on.

I noticed that the other local parents sure did have a lot more social outings than we did, and what gorgeous vacations they all took, while it seemed we would NEVER travel anywhere but Florida for the rest of our lives. I wondered how one family got in to that exclusive show and mourned my own fabulous-long-ago-past as an advertising executive who had access to all of the latest events (note my mind’s exaggeration) but was now just experiencing the daily cycle of wake-breakfast-kids-housework-dinner-bath-bed- repeat.

I zoomed in on the family photos of that middle school acquaintance with the “C” average who is now running her own company, raising four kids AND looking that great? And I marveled at how that quiet girl from high school got so many comments on her post, while I didn’t even have any “likes”.

As my mind continued to ruminate through negative self-talk about my boring, unsocial, stay-at-home, average life, my mood started dropping and I began to fall into my very own “Facebook funk”.

It took me a while to realize what was happening, but when I did, I knew I had to log off. I check Facebook less often now, and never when I’m feeling down. I post a bit, but try to avoid counting responses. I admit that sometimes I scroll quickly past updates from those I envy, and I have eliminated some updates from view. But most of all I remember that everyone’s life has challenges and they probably won’t be posted.

It is easier now for me to support others in their good times, sending congratulations and being generous with my “Likes”. Of course, when someone drops their Facebook Front with an unpopular post like “I am NOT ready for pickup time.” I LIKE it – twice.

Follow The Rules

I have always been a rule follower. Not only do I obey all laws, but I also follow societal rules that hold no threat of jail time. I stand in a long line when I have just one item, I wait at red lights even if they are interminable and there is no other car around for miles, I don’t park in the school drop off lane, I toss coupons after the expiration date, I return items within 90 days. I wear a cocktail dress to a cocktail party and a gown when “black tie is required”. I don’t stand up in airplanes when the seat belt light is illuminated. And so on.

This is why I am a good baker, but a terrible cook. I can follow a recipe to a tee, but don’t ask me to improvise with random ingredients and no measuring spoons. I can’t.

It just never dawned on me to question most rules. If there is a way something should be done, that’s how I’ll do it. If there is a law, regulation, or restriction, I abide by it. And if the rule changes, I’ll change. I meet expectations.

Yes, I get frustrated when the rules are irrational, but I usually let others iron out the reasoning, and assume all the obvious questions have already been answered. But now that I have children, I find myself spending half my day trying to answer those “obvious” questions and often falling short.

For a while I thought my kids questioned everything just to distract or delay, or maybe just to drive me crazy. Some questions, like “Why do I have to go to school?” or “Why do I have to wear a seatbelt?” are easy to answer authoritatively even if education, future opportunities, and hypothetical safety may be vague concepts to understand (and often refuted with more questions such as “But why would we get in an accident?”) Of course, since my answer is unwavering on these topics, they also tend to be the things least questioned. I need to remember that.

More often the questions hover around the hazier areas of cultural norms and expectations that may have developed over time. And frequently, that history may be the only reason these “unwritten rules” endure: “Why does the fork have to go on the left side of the plate?”; “Why do I have to wear THIS?” (uniform/suit/dress shoes…); “Why can’t I sleep in the guest room?” I am learning that my parents’ ole standby, “Because I said so!”, just doesn’t fly with my brood.

So I try to come up with a more rational answer, and I am finding that for many things I just can’t. Why can’t we sit down in the elevator? I can tell that my husband enjoys when our children question the norms even when he is the one being questioned, because he appreciates their creative minds that won’t take things at face value, that won’t back down, that dream of new solutions. And isn’t that how you want your child to be?

But I am struggling with this dilemma. How do I encourage my children to follow the rules (for the benefit of myself and society as a whole) while also encouraging them to “think outside the box” (for the benefit of themselves, and maybe society as a whole)? How can I tell them that it is okay to act against the rules in some situations but not in others, to question some authority but not all, to consider doing things differently than everyone else but still fit in? And how do I encourage them to lead rather than to follow, while still maintaining family leadership myself?

History has shown that we need people out there questioning the rules and breaking them in order for changes and improvements to be made. Women’s rights, civil rights, children’s rights, domestic violence laws, and so many other important societal changes all came about thanks to people who refused to maintain the status quo. And I’ll bet they gave their parents a tough time too.

My father used to say, “I don’t answer ‘why’ questions.” I thought it was just his clever trick to make us think more creatively about how to get our answers, like starting a sentence with “How come…” or “What would happen if…,” but now I think it was simply a way for him to avoid admitting to the confusion, hypocrisy, and uncertainty that parents (like most humans) often experience. I don’t really know for sure, because I never thought to ask why.