Saturday, November 27, 2010

I've been hitting the (parenting) books

Wow, it really has been a long time. It has come to my attention recently that I've been remiss in updating my blog of late. I guess my excuse would be that first Mark, then my mom, then Paul had surgery, all within the space of less than two weeks. Almost three weeks have passed since Paul's surgery, and he's come through the whole experience marvelously. Seriously, we got so lucky.

But I digress. What I really wanted to write about today is my never-ending quest to find parenting strategies that will get me through the day-to-day frustrations I experience while raising my boys. I've gotten to this point so many times. Suddenly, I'll notice that the majority of my dealings with Ben end with me making some sharp comment, or I find myself nagging him all the time. I'll get done, well, lecturing Ben, and he'll dejectedly proclaim that "everything he does is wrong." That's certainly not the message I want to send. He's sad, I feel helpless. It's the same with Paul and Gus, just different problems.

I want to reach that parenting nirvana, that place where I can discipline my kids lovingly so we can all live in harmony. Yeah, that probably doesn't really exist, but I'd still like to get as close to it as possible. It just seems like there's this chasm that separates kids from adults. I remember being a kid and thinking adults have no idea how hard it is to be a kid. Now, as an adult, I think that kids have no idea how hard it is to be an adult. I empathize with Ben (and Paul and Gus), I really do. Somehow that just doesn't translate.

So I did what I always do when I feel stuck on a problem. I turned to books. My friend, who's a social worker who leads parenting workshops, told me I might want to check out the "Love and Logic" program. I rented the DVD from the library, and Mark and I sat down to watch it, ready to emerge better parents. The program's founders contend that the parenting world today is filled with "helicopter parents" who hover around their kids constantly and seek to solve all their problems. This, they say, leads kids to feel helpless, un-empowered, ultimately frustrated. Am I a little helicopterish? (Or is the correct term helicoptery?) I think that would be fair to say, though I certainly am uncomfortable being referred to as such.

The solution: give kids back their problems. First, they say, "hit them with a dose of empathy." The scenario they offer in the video is one of a child losing his coat, saying that someone "stole" it at school. (Read: the kid lost his coat and doesn't want to admit it's his fault.) So first you would say something like, "I'm so sorry that happened to you." Next, you would offer some suggestions, putting out stupid ones first, saving the best ones for last. "Some kids would just wear three shirts. Would that work for you?" "Some kids would take money out of their piggy bank and go to the thrift store and buy a new one. Would that work for you?" (That's the good suggestion, in case you didn't pick up on that.)

All of this was presented in an overly jokey way that tends to irritate me, but OK, I can see some really good suggestions here. I'm not saying that it would be style to proceed exactly as the presenters laid out, but maybe I could adapt it. However, I still wanted to expand my parenting repertoire, so I checked out the book, "How to Talk so Your Kids Will Listen and Listen so Your Kids Will Talk." In this book, the authors say that parents often fail to truly listen to their kids. We're prone to saying dismissive things, leaving kids to feel they've been disregarded. When a child presents a problem to you, try to pick up on what your child is feeling. ("You must be feeling really sad." "You must have been so angry.") Even offering sympathetic sounds like "oh" and "mmhmm" is great, they say. This book definitely sounded more like something I could do.

We've been using techniques from both approaches. Mark and I have been getting some strange responses from Ben, in particular. When we use the "some kids would ..." technique, Ben seems to be a little dubious. "Why are you guys talking so weird?" he's asked us. To be honest, often saying these things feels a little clunky and disingenuous. However, I, for one am going to keep at it. What I was doing before certainly wasn't working. My friend, the social worker, talks about keeping a parenting toolbox. That's what I'm going to do. I'm going to put these in my parenting toolbox and hope that someday I'll assemble the perfect one that will lead me to parenting nirvana.