After attending what was probably my sixth lecture in two years on keeping our children safe from cyberbullies, cyberscams, and violent and sexual images, something in me just snapped. As parents, we often find ourselves in auditoriums listening to people telling us how to cushion our kids from the content they can barely avoid. But why don’t we attack the content?
It wasn’t that long ago when there were limits enforced in the entertainment industry to protect children and families. Mature television shows were on late or on premium channels. Foul language was minimized. R-ratings were actually enforced. But now thanks to decreases in regulation and increases in technology, it seems impossible to shield our children from inappropriate content.
And so, the already extensive job of parenting has grown exponentially harder. The work-life balance now includes the challenge of finding time to review our kids’ facebook pages, instagram accounts, emails, texts and online chats; install parental controls on computers, phones and televisions; attend cybersafety seminars and monitor all viewing activity; and repeatedly counter powerful negative media messages with our positive, value-based beliefs.
What if we used all the time and energy we spend trying to intercept and deflect messages to fight back against the corporations that continue to create and promote the mass of material that glorifies graphic violence and sexuality and exploits the addictive and unquestioning nature of our kids?
I was an advertising executive and I am a heavy consumer of pop culture, so I feel like I come to this argument from an honest place. I am not naïve or prude, but content has pushed the limits so far that one does not have to be very conservative to take issue. When we cheer for women who aggressively attack their “friends”, flipping tables and pulling hair, why are we startled by statistics showing violence among girls nearing the level of that among boys? When we make psychotic “jokers” and serial killers the most entertaining and cunning film characters, why are we shocked when someone seeks attention with a similar real-life crime? When guns are waved flippantly and used without a second thought by pop culture icons, why are we surprised when our youth does the same?
There are teams of people involved with producing and marketing a game, movie, or television show. Creators, producers, editors, network executives, advertisers, some of whom I am certain are parents. I beg them to think about what they are putting forth to our kids, to our society. Are they so driven by the dollar that they are willing to give up civility? To perpetuate a world in which we seek power through violence, glorify bad behavior, and respect only ourselves rather than foster a safe and supportive community where our children can achieve honest success? Why are they appealing to the base of human nature rather than aspiring to its greatest potential?
I was encouraged by this week’s editorial in Entertainment Weekly in which managing editor Jess Cagle openly questioned his role in perpetuating the problem. “We are a nation obsessed with guns and gore, and all of us play a role in making it so,” he stated. “…when I help keep a violent show on the air – by watching it or by celebrating it in EW – what is my responsibility if that show contributes to a sadistic culture or inspires one unhinged person to do something awful?” As media consumers, none of us can ignore that our support of these entertainment vehicles helps perpetuate their messages.
We need to rise up not just against guns, but against our culture of violence. We need to say NO to television shows that promote angry, violent, out-of-control behavior, NO to graphic violence on screen, NO to huge salaries for entertainers who sing about abusing their girls and killing their rivals. We need to share stories of people behaving well, instead of rewarding people with incessant media attention when they behave badly. We need to support those who act selflessly instead glorifying those who are in it for themselves.
Will children still play and purchase video games that are not graphically violent? If the games are entertaining and challenging, I think they will. Will audiences still watch television shows and films that do not compete to use the worst language, shock with the goriest crime, or show the most skin? If the stories are engaging and well-written, I think they will.
Perhaps the entertainment companies should have some faith in their consumers and compete for the best quality, not the biggest shock value. Then maybe they can put forth what they want the world to be, not what it is.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Control Freak
This is my first column of the new year, and so I feel like I should be writing about making resolutions, getting a fresh start, or becoming a whole new me, but I don’t really want to. First of all, I have never seen a resolution through to completion, and it just makes me feel bad when I realize in April that I have only three daily journal entries, have gained 5 pounds, and have yet to finish the scrapbook I started in 2006. Secondly, I have been a student or parent for about three-quarters of my life, so I run on a school year, not a calendar year. I like to start in September, not January, and end on the high note of summer, not in a post-holiday slump.
It’s not that I don’t have many behaviors I want to change – I do, believe me I do (and my family could probably come up with a few more). Improve my diet, exercise, find greater job satisfaction, compliment more and complain less, and so on. But when I really think about it, the one thing that causes me the most aggravation on a daily basis is my need for control, for everything to be in its place, for everything to go as I plan.
I was always very organized, timely, and proactive when I was just responsible for myself. But now that there are four of us to manage, the inability to keep everything under control is taking a toll on this control freak.
They say we teach people how to treat us, and I have taught my family that Mom will take care of everything. I am the planner, the finder, the fixer, the creator, and supplier for the whole family. And when I can’t plan or find or fix or create or supply, my family complains. Then I get mad at them because I feel unappreciated for all the times I succeeded at these jobs in the past. But I am also upset with myself, because I failed.
While I crave the control, I don’t actually like it. I get annoyed in the morning watching my kids play while I run around gathering clothes, making breakfast and lunch, packing backpacks, and watching the clock. But then I scoff at my son when he wants to bring something unconventional to school. I dread family trips when I am responsible for planning, packing, tickets, directions, snacks, etc. But I get more irritated when the others jump in and unpack my precisely-packed bags to fit in more plush toys or different clothes, or put in leaky, perishable snacks, or poorly-packaged toys that spill little parts throughout our luggage.
So though I resent my job as controller, I also discourage my family from being responsible for themselves. When someone else steps in, instead of praising them for what they did, I often hear myself regretting what I did not.
Why can’t I let go? The surface answer is that by doing it all myself, things are usually done “right” and we avoid the consequences of an incomplete job. But if I am going to be honest and year-end-reflective, I think the real reason I hold on is because if I am not the planner, finder, fixer, creator, and supplier, then I don’t know who I am. If I let my family take care of their own needs, I’ll have to say goodbye to the martyr in me that loves to say, “I always have to plan/find/fix everything around here!” (I don’t like her, but I’m kind of attached.) I’m afraid I may become unnecessary, or even more afraid that if I am free to take care of my own needs, I may have to figure out what they are.
When I look, I see my kids have given me many opportunities to let go. My four-year-old wants to do everything herself but I often intervene. My son surprises me by maturing past old attitudes and needs that I unintentionally fight to maintain. When I let them go, they do pretty well. Sure they make mistakes, and messes, and forget things, and take their frustration out on me as they maneuver through the learning curve. But I have to toughen up to these growing pains and consider them just steps on the road to freedom – for all of us.
So my goal for 2013 is to learn to let go. But to my family, I won’t call it a resolution. I’m calling it a warning.
It’s not that I don’t have many behaviors I want to change – I do, believe me I do (and my family could probably come up with a few more). Improve my diet, exercise, find greater job satisfaction, compliment more and complain less, and so on. But when I really think about it, the one thing that causes me the most aggravation on a daily basis is my need for control, for everything to be in its place, for everything to go as I plan.
I was always very organized, timely, and proactive when I was just responsible for myself. But now that there are four of us to manage, the inability to keep everything under control is taking a toll on this control freak.
They say we teach people how to treat us, and I have taught my family that Mom will take care of everything. I am the planner, the finder, the fixer, the creator, and supplier for the whole family. And when I can’t plan or find or fix or create or supply, my family complains. Then I get mad at them because I feel unappreciated for all the times I succeeded at these jobs in the past. But I am also upset with myself, because I failed.
While I crave the control, I don’t actually like it. I get annoyed in the morning watching my kids play while I run around gathering clothes, making breakfast and lunch, packing backpacks, and watching the clock. But then I scoff at my son when he wants to bring something unconventional to school. I dread family trips when I am responsible for planning, packing, tickets, directions, snacks, etc. But I get more irritated when the others jump in and unpack my precisely-packed bags to fit in more plush toys or different clothes, or put in leaky, perishable snacks, or poorly-packaged toys that spill little parts throughout our luggage.
So though I resent my job as controller, I also discourage my family from being responsible for themselves. When someone else steps in, instead of praising them for what they did, I often hear myself regretting what I did not.
Why can’t I let go? The surface answer is that by doing it all myself, things are usually done “right” and we avoid the consequences of an incomplete job. But if I am going to be honest and year-end-reflective, I think the real reason I hold on is because if I am not the planner, finder, fixer, creator, and supplier, then I don’t know who I am. If I let my family take care of their own needs, I’ll have to say goodbye to the martyr in me that loves to say, “I always have to plan/find/fix everything around here!” (I don’t like her, but I’m kind of attached.) I’m afraid I may become unnecessary, or even more afraid that if I am free to take care of my own needs, I may have to figure out what they are.
When I look, I see my kids have given me many opportunities to let go. My four-year-old wants to do everything herself but I often intervene. My son surprises me by maturing past old attitudes and needs that I unintentionally fight to maintain. When I let them go, they do pretty well. Sure they make mistakes, and messes, and forget things, and take their frustration out on me as they maneuver through the learning curve. But I have to toughen up to these growing pains and consider them just steps on the road to freedom – for all of us.
So my goal for 2013 is to learn to let go. But to my family, I won’t call it a resolution. I’m calling it a warning.
Christmas "PEAR"
I love my family - immediate and extended, but let’s face it: While one of the best things about the holidays can be spending time with family, this can also be one of the most stressful. Family members have spent years studying each other’s buttons and learning just how to push them for maximum impact. Visions of perfect storybook celebrations may keep everyone on their best behavior for a while, but the suppression of negative emotions doesn’t always last, especially when mixed with high expectations, long days, decreased sleep, and increased alcohol intake.
“Plan ahead” is the catchphrase of the holiday season, with lifestyle gurus in the media offering a more enjoyable experience via the use of schedules, lists, family chore charts, and multi-sized baskets. But we often forget that it is as important to prepare for the emotional side of the holidays as for the practical side. After all, it is usually negative emotional experiences that cloud our holiday memories. We may be able to laugh about burned roasts or forgotten stocking stuffers, but it is harder to dismiss a sibling’s nasty comment about our parenting skills or an uncle’s drunken commentary on our lifestyle choices.
When helping clients manage stress and anger, I use a simple acronym, PEAR, which I’ll pretend I created in honor of the proverbial “pear tree” within which the holiday partridge sits. At least that should make it easy to remember through the upcoming twelve days of Christmas vacation.
P is for “plan” or “prepare”: Our closest family members may know best how to push our buttons, but they didn’t put them there. We are each responsible for minimizing or removing our own buttons so they cannot be pushed, so first we need to know what they are.
Think about your anger triggers. What behaviors or phrases get to you? What are the underlying themes? Are you especially sensitive to being disrespected, talked down to, criticized? Do you get upset when others challenge or compete with you? Can you tolerate different opinions? Be honest with yourself, because the only way you can remove your triggers is to confront them.
If you don’t know, tune in to your body. When we are upset, there are often physical indications – rise in body temperature, shortness of breath, louder or faster talking, sweaty or shaky hands. If you still don’t know, ask your children or spouse. I’ll bet they can tell you what bothers you and what you look like when you are mad.
Once you have identified your triggers, the goal is to be able to recognize when you are starting to get agitated and choose more positive responses. Or get away.
E is for Escape: We can’t always eliminate stressful situations from our lives, but we can develop an escape plan to be executed when necessary. If you are in a group setting, be aware of the actual exit doors. If there is a person or topic that is especially difficult for you, enlist a partner you can signal to rescue you from an extended conversation. If you have a full house, take a breather away from company and do something on your own to recharge.
A is for Avoid: Someone who has just ended a relationship may want to pass on events that their ex may attend. Someone who is struggling with sobriety might avoid holiday parties where alcohol may be flowing. Even at home, if there is a particular guest who always drinks too much and acts out, lock the vodka in the liquor cabinet during their stay.
R is for Relax or Resolve: Simple techniques may seem corny, but it is true that a few deep breaths can interrupt the cycle of anger and help minimize the instinctive reactions we later regret. Come up with a few key phrases to calm yourself like “I don’t have to win this one,” “She’s entitled to her opinion”, or “This is not about me” to put the situation back in perspective and help you regain control. The short-term goal is to relax in the moment, but these skills can also help us resolve issues in the long-term by changing the way we think about them overall.
This year, following the recent tragedy in Newtown and the devastating Fall storms, many of us are more on edge than usual. There may be sensitivities where before there were none – concerns about loss and recovery, financial worries, fears that may cause sleeplessness for us or our children. Try to find some quiet time to reflect on your own family and consider what old, new, and possibly unexpected issues may arise this year. Then prepare yourself so that your twelve days of Christmas vacation can end with a rousing chorus.
Happy holidays!
“Plan ahead” is the catchphrase of the holiday season, with lifestyle gurus in the media offering a more enjoyable experience via the use of schedules, lists, family chore charts, and multi-sized baskets. But we often forget that it is as important to prepare for the emotional side of the holidays as for the practical side. After all, it is usually negative emotional experiences that cloud our holiday memories. We may be able to laugh about burned roasts or forgotten stocking stuffers, but it is harder to dismiss a sibling’s nasty comment about our parenting skills or an uncle’s drunken commentary on our lifestyle choices.
When helping clients manage stress and anger, I use a simple acronym, PEAR, which I’ll pretend I created in honor of the proverbial “pear tree” within which the holiday partridge sits. At least that should make it easy to remember through the upcoming twelve days of Christmas vacation.
P is for “plan” or “prepare”: Our closest family members may know best how to push our buttons, but they didn’t put them there. We are each responsible for minimizing or removing our own buttons so they cannot be pushed, so first we need to know what they are.
Think about your anger triggers. What behaviors or phrases get to you? What are the underlying themes? Are you especially sensitive to being disrespected, talked down to, criticized? Do you get upset when others challenge or compete with you? Can you tolerate different opinions? Be honest with yourself, because the only way you can remove your triggers is to confront them.
If you don’t know, tune in to your body. When we are upset, there are often physical indications – rise in body temperature, shortness of breath, louder or faster talking, sweaty or shaky hands. If you still don’t know, ask your children or spouse. I’ll bet they can tell you what bothers you and what you look like when you are mad.
Once you have identified your triggers, the goal is to be able to recognize when you are starting to get agitated and choose more positive responses. Or get away.
E is for Escape: We can’t always eliminate stressful situations from our lives, but we can develop an escape plan to be executed when necessary. If you are in a group setting, be aware of the actual exit doors. If there is a person or topic that is especially difficult for you, enlist a partner you can signal to rescue you from an extended conversation. If you have a full house, take a breather away from company and do something on your own to recharge.
A is for Avoid: Someone who has just ended a relationship may want to pass on events that their ex may attend. Someone who is struggling with sobriety might avoid holiday parties where alcohol may be flowing. Even at home, if there is a particular guest who always drinks too much and acts out, lock the vodka in the liquor cabinet during their stay.
R is for Relax or Resolve: Simple techniques may seem corny, but it is true that a few deep breaths can interrupt the cycle of anger and help minimize the instinctive reactions we later regret. Come up with a few key phrases to calm yourself like “I don’t have to win this one,” “She’s entitled to her opinion”, or “This is not about me” to put the situation back in perspective and help you regain control. The short-term goal is to relax in the moment, but these skills can also help us resolve issues in the long-term by changing the way we think about them overall.
This year, following the recent tragedy in Newtown and the devastating Fall storms, many of us are more on edge than usual. There may be sensitivities where before there were none – concerns about loss and recovery, financial worries, fears that may cause sleeplessness for us or our children. Try to find some quiet time to reflect on your own family and consider what old, new, and possibly unexpected issues may arise this year. Then prepare yourself so that your twelve days of Christmas vacation can end with a rousing chorus.
Happy holidays!
Extreme To Do List
I know it sounds cliché, but it feels like I just put away last year’s holiday decorations and here I am bringing them back out again. (Truth be told, I actually did just put them away in August after having originally shoved them in a closet in January.)
Regardless, the calendar says it is time to get ready for another holiday season, which to me means it’s time for the “Extreme To-Do List”. Unlike the rest of the year, the “Extreme To-Do List” contains my regular to-do list overlaid with multiple additional to-do lists. Gift lists, grocery lists, guest lists, packing lists. Lists separated by family, friends, school, and work. Sometimes I feel like my list is longer than Santa’s.
There is something gratifying about crossing an item off the list as it gets done. However, my list is a bit too malleable this year. I find I’m adding to it as fast as I cross out, supplementing my organized columns with scribbles in every free space, so by the end of the day, my list is an illegible mess and “rewrite to-do list” becomes another entry.
Today, while driving to yet another superstore, listening to the newest rendition of “Santa Baby”, I passed a van that was advertising “Virtual Assistants”. For an instant, the thought of hiring someone to do my “to-do’s” was quite enticing. But then I realized I would have to make a “to-do” list for them, and by the time I finished that, I probably could have completed half of the tasks myself.
The alterations in our usual weekly schedules also clutter the list. Year-end performances and holiday events require advanced preparations. Preschool ends a week earlier than public school, filling previously empty morning hours. Half-days drastically alter afternoon schedules. (By the way, what’s with the week of half-days for elementary parent-teacher conferences right after the short Thanksgiving week? Don’t they know we need those holiday kick-off hours to get the best deals at ToysRUs?).
As a result, I have had to start writing out everything that has to be done not just daily, but hour by hour, otherwise something or somebody is going to be forgotten. I knew it was really getting bad when I added “take a shower” to my list.
As for holiday decorating, we have condensed our preparations by using a fake tree, which goes up fully lit in minutes. I am a little embarrassed to admit this, as I feel bad about losing the family tradition associated with a real tree. You know, getting everyone bundled up to go out in the freezing cold to buy the tree, struggling to get it on the car, struggling to get it off the car, struggling to get it in the door, struggling to shorten the trunk when it doesn’t stand up, passing the lights around the back of the tree as the branches hit us in the face, watering the tree, vacuuming up the needles after we forget to water it, vacuuming up the needles after the kids pull off the ornaments, vacuuming up the needles after we drag the dead tree through the house well past the end of the season . . . . Oh wait, I don’t really feel that bad. A few pine-scented candles and we’ll be good.
Thanks to the early Thanksgiving, we got a head start this year, but with young kids that doesn’t always help. Their fun comes mostly from undoing any decorating that we have done (under the guise of “playing”). Every day, my three- year-old wants to take the ornaments off the tree and redecorate it. I try to keep the fragile ornaments up high so she can play with the ones she can reach, but the other day, I noticed a chair had been pulled up alongside the tree, clearly part of what could have been a very bad situation that must have been going on while I was tackling something on my to-do list more fun than “supervise children”.
I actually don’t mind many of the holiday tasks when you take out the inconveniences of crowds, parking, and the like. But because they are dropped on top of my regular usually unfinished to-do list, it can sometimes get overwhelming, and I don’t always react well.
I dream of creating holidays filled with special family traditions, but sometimes I worry that the only tradition I’m passing on to my kids is that of Mom losing it by December 15th. I can only hope my kids will possess rose-colored memories with my crazy behavior forgotten, or maybe they will remember my micromanaging as a fun little piece of our family life: “Remember when Mom went nuts when we ripped up her to-do list? Ha Ha, good times.”
Regardless, the calendar says it is time to get ready for another holiday season, which to me means it’s time for the “Extreme To-Do List”. Unlike the rest of the year, the “Extreme To-Do List” contains my regular to-do list overlaid with multiple additional to-do lists. Gift lists, grocery lists, guest lists, packing lists. Lists separated by family, friends, school, and work. Sometimes I feel like my list is longer than Santa’s.
There is something gratifying about crossing an item off the list as it gets done. However, my list is a bit too malleable this year. I find I’m adding to it as fast as I cross out, supplementing my organized columns with scribbles in every free space, so by the end of the day, my list is an illegible mess and “rewrite to-do list” becomes another entry.
Today, while driving to yet another superstore, listening to the newest rendition of “Santa Baby”, I passed a van that was advertising “Virtual Assistants”. For an instant, the thought of hiring someone to do my “to-do’s” was quite enticing. But then I realized I would have to make a “to-do” list for them, and by the time I finished that, I probably could have completed half of the tasks myself.
The alterations in our usual weekly schedules also clutter the list. Year-end performances and holiday events require advanced preparations. Preschool ends a week earlier than public school, filling previously empty morning hours. Half-days drastically alter afternoon schedules. (By the way, what’s with the week of half-days for elementary parent-teacher conferences right after the short Thanksgiving week? Don’t they know we need those holiday kick-off hours to get the best deals at ToysRUs?).
As a result, I have had to start writing out everything that has to be done not just daily, but hour by hour, otherwise something or somebody is going to be forgotten. I knew it was really getting bad when I added “take a shower” to my list.
As for holiday decorating, we have condensed our preparations by using a fake tree, which goes up fully lit in minutes. I am a little embarrassed to admit this, as I feel bad about losing the family tradition associated with a real tree. You know, getting everyone bundled up to go out in the freezing cold to buy the tree, struggling to get it on the car, struggling to get it off the car, struggling to get it in the door, struggling to shorten the trunk when it doesn’t stand up, passing the lights around the back of the tree as the branches hit us in the face, watering the tree, vacuuming up the needles after we forget to water it, vacuuming up the needles after the kids pull off the ornaments, vacuuming up the needles after we drag the dead tree through the house well past the end of the season . . . . Oh wait, I don’t really feel that bad. A few pine-scented candles and we’ll be good.
Thanks to the early Thanksgiving, we got a head start this year, but with young kids that doesn’t always help. Their fun comes mostly from undoing any decorating that we have done (under the guise of “playing”). Every day, my three- year-old wants to take the ornaments off the tree and redecorate it. I try to keep the fragile ornaments up high so she can play with the ones she can reach, but the other day, I noticed a chair had been pulled up alongside the tree, clearly part of what could have been a very bad situation that must have been going on while I was tackling something on my to-do list more fun than “supervise children”.
I actually don’t mind many of the holiday tasks when you take out the inconveniences of crowds, parking, and the like. But because they are dropped on top of my regular usually unfinished to-do list, it can sometimes get overwhelming, and I don’t always react well.
I dream of creating holidays filled with special family traditions, but sometimes I worry that the only tradition I’m passing on to my kids is that of Mom losing it by December 15th. I can only hope my kids will possess rose-colored memories with my crazy behavior forgotten, or maybe they will remember my micromanaging as a fun little piece of our family life: “Remember when Mom went nuts when we ripped up her to-do list? Ha Ha, good times.”
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Screen Time
My son started playing computer games as soon as he could move his fingers and sit up by himself. He was Mario for Halloween in 2007 at age four, just before the Wii reintroduced Super Mario Brothers to the masses, and well before anyone his age had heard of them. A month later he had a Pac-Man-themed birthday party with handmade décor that nobody recognized but the parents.
But now, Mario is mainstream, and instead of being a kid with a quirky hobby that his peers don’t understand, my son’s interests are finally conventional. I have seen how videogames and computer skills have augmented his creativity, self-confidence, and social development, but I still have a hard time getting past their bad reputation. Why is it that intense focus on computers is considered problematic while intense focus on sports (or most anything else) is good?
So it was with significant personal interest that I attended the Darien Library’s recent talk on kids and videogames, “Everything You Want To Know About Gaming But Were Afraid To Ask”.
Note, I didn’t go to cover this as a story, I have no connection with the speakers, and I am not putting forth anyone’s point of view here but my own. I was there purely as a parent in the technology age, wondering whether I have to continue to feel guilty about hosting playdates in front of the Wii.
The library panel addressed many of the usual concerns about game players, including perceived risks of increased aggression, medical problems (vision issues, seizures, obesity), and social isolation. But I came away with the same lessons we hear again and again in life: "Okay in moderation." and as parents: "Supervise, set limits, and enforce consequences."
It seems the general belief that violent games make violent boys isn’t so clear-cut. Much research focuses on children who play inappropriate games for excessive amounts of time and doesn’t consider environmental factors such as lack of parental supervision in general, which may in turn involve other factors like economics, education, or even parental addictions. Another forgotten element is the temperament of the child. Maybe aggressive kids choose aggressive games, not the other way around. These factors may combine to play a much larger role in leading to a child’s antisocial behavior than the actual video games.
So the panelists encouraged the audience to use ratings to help eliminate inappropriate games (e.g. Call of Duty is rated M for age 17 and up), and set time limits, especially if game-playing is eating up hours usually reserved for homework, extra-curricular activities, socializing, eating, or sleeping. I learned that we can set gaming systems to shut off after a certain amount of playtime or program computers to shut down at a certain time. And we can always unplug our router to eliminate internet access after bedtime. (Although according to 2010 data, the average gamer is a 34-year-old male who has been playing for 12 years – so it may be the husbands who object most to that last step!).
To address concerns of internet predators and cyberbullying, we can put parental controls and screening software on our computers, discuss risks with our children as appropriate, and review their usage to ensure they are not a victim or a bully.
I know it isn’t easy, but the goal is to help them navigate this world until they can make good choices on their own. Because at some point they will be on their own.
On the positive side, if responsibilities are complete and there is proper parental supervision, is it still so bad to spend one’s free time online? Maybe not, according to findings presented by the panelists and in educator James Gee’s recent book, What Video Games Have to Teach Us About Learning and Literacy. Game play has been shown to be a powerful way of learning that helps increase problem-solving abilities, creativity, adaptability, and resiliency. Additionally, like playground play, gaming is child-led, not adult-guided, which builds internal motivation and regulation skills.
In my son, I have seen an interesting shift from playing games to creating them – or at least thinking about creating them. He spends less of his time with controllers in hand and more on websites where he can build his own characters and watch and learn from others’ creations. Offline, he has become more comfortable drawing, writing, and role-playing since he has begun using the game characters as subjects, much like our generation may have done with Barbies or Superman.
Much of the time he spends staring at the screen is reading lengthy stories others have written about the game characters. When he asks me if this counts as his reading homework, I say no, but really, given the proliferation of electronic reading devices like the Kindle, shouldn’t it?
In my last column I wondered when my son would be motivated internally, what spark would drive him to put forth his best effort. But maybe I have been refusing to see that the spark is already there, because it is a fire I don’t understand. As one panelist said, this is our kids’ world. And it is going to get more technological, not less.
And so I ask myself, “What would Bill Gates’ mom do?”
But now, Mario is mainstream, and instead of being a kid with a quirky hobby that his peers don’t understand, my son’s interests are finally conventional. I have seen how videogames and computer skills have augmented his creativity, self-confidence, and social development, but I still have a hard time getting past their bad reputation. Why is it that intense focus on computers is considered problematic while intense focus on sports (or most anything else) is good?
So it was with significant personal interest that I attended the Darien Library’s recent talk on kids and videogames, “Everything You Want To Know About Gaming But Were Afraid To Ask”.
Note, I didn’t go to cover this as a story, I have no connection with the speakers, and I am not putting forth anyone’s point of view here but my own. I was there purely as a parent in the technology age, wondering whether I have to continue to feel guilty about hosting playdates in front of the Wii.
The library panel addressed many of the usual concerns about game players, including perceived risks of increased aggression, medical problems (vision issues, seizures, obesity), and social isolation. But I came away with the same lessons we hear again and again in life: "Okay in moderation." and as parents: "Supervise, set limits, and enforce consequences."
It seems the general belief that violent games make violent boys isn’t so clear-cut. Much research focuses on children who play inappropriate games for excessive amounts of time and doesn’t consider environmental factors such as lack of parental supervision in general, which may in turn involve other factors like economics, education, or even parental addictions. Another forgotten element is the temperament of the child. Maybe aggressive kids choose aggressive games, not the other way around. These factors may combine to play a much larger role in leading to a child’s antisocial behavior than the actual video games.
So the panelists encouraged the audience to use ratings to help eliminate inappropriate games (e.g. Call of Duty is rated M for age 17 and up), and set time limits, especially if game-playing is eating up hours usually reserved for homework, extra-curricular activities, socializing, eating, or sleeping. I learned that we can set gaming systems to shut off after a certain amount of playtime or program computers to shut down at a certain time. And we can always unplug our router to eliminate internet access after bedtime. (Although according to 2010 data, the average gamer is a 34-year-old male who has been playing for 12 years – so it may be the husbands who object most to that last step!).
To address concerns of internet predators and cyberbullying, we can put parental controls and screening software on our computers, discuss risks with our children as appropriate, and review their usage to ensure they are not a victim or a bully.
I know it isn’t easy, but the goal is to help them navigate this world until they can make good choices on their own. Because at some point they will be on their own.
On the positive side, if responsibilities are complete and there is proper parental supervision, is it still so bad to spend one’s free time online? Maybe not, according to findings presented by the panelists and in educator James Gee’s recent book, What Video Games Have to Teach Us About Learning and Literacy. Game play has been shown to be a powerful way of learning that helps increase problem-solving abilities, creativity, adaptability, and resiliency. Additionally, like playground play, gaming is child-led, not adult-guided, which builds internal motivation and regulation skills.
In my son, I have seen an interesting shift from playing games to creating them – or at least thinking about creating them. He spends less of his time with controllers in hand and more on websites where he can build his own characters and watch and learn from others’ creations. Offline, he has become more comfortable drawing, writing, and role-playing since he has begun using the game characters as subjects, much like our generation may have done with Barbies or Superman.
Much of the time he spends staring at the screen is reading lengthy stories others have written about the game characters. When he asks me if this counts as his reading homework, I say no, but really, given the proliferation of electronic reading devices like the Kindle, shouldn’t it?
In my last column I wondered when my son would be motivated internally, what spark would drive him to put forth his best effort. But maybe I have been refusing to see that the spark is already there, because it is a fire I don’t understand. As one panelist said, this is our kids’ world. And it is going to get more technological, not less.
And so I ask myself, “What would Bill Gates’ mom do?”
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