If anyone asked me whether I thought I was a good parent, I’d say yes – for all of my faults, I am a very good parent. And I’d think (hope) that others would say the same about themselves.
It’s not an easy job, raising children. There isn’t an employee handbook…there are hundredsof them. All of which provide vast amounts of conflicting information. And there isn’t even an HR manager we can contact for clarifications. We have to figure it out as we go – come up with the annual goals and expectations. Write our own mission statement.
When things go well, we are filled with pride. And when we fail miserably, we learn from our mistakes. We try not to beat ourselves up and dwell on the bad stuff. We do better. We forget and fail again. We feel foolish about it but move on. It’s a process.
This is something we all have in common.
As a result, we become very aware of our strengths and weaknesses. And we allow ourselves both. As much as we might want to correct our imperfections, we can’t do it all. At the end of the day, we have to let some things go and just say, “Oh I’m the worst about…”
Everyone has their own set of foibles, and each takes root in our personal identity. We become known among our friends for always being late; for refusing to concede a point; for never remembering to bring a snack to the playground. We accept ourselves for these faults and others do as well. They even become expected of us.
But I’ve always thought that each con comes with a pro, and vice versa. Each positive or negative has its flip side.
I may be great at organizing closets and suitcases, but I’m also very rigid in the way I want things done. I can be somewhat indecisive when it comes to forming opinions, but I also consider all of the angles and don’t make many snap decisions.
Every fault has its benefits if you think it through. And as a parent I have many faults. So why not consider the benefits as well?
Just the other day I was thinking about how I tune out the twins’ constant chatter more than I probably should. So many half-hearted, “Uh huh…really?…you think so?…I’m sorry, what was that again?” responses, when I know I ought to be listening and participating in the conversation. It’s just that they NEVER stop talking. And sometimes it’s exhausting.
Ironically enough, I spent years desperately wishing my oldest child would conquer his speech delays and be able to communicate with me. And now I’m complaining about the constant communication with the younger ones. I really should correct this…and I’m trying. But in the meantime, I could try considering the upside.
O.K., it’s hard to find a pro for this one… But I guess you could say that my kids don’t expect the world to always stop and listen to whatever it is they want to say. Well, actually, they do expect it. But they’re learning that this isn’t the way things work. That they aren’t always going to be in the spotlight. That sometimes other people want a little quiet time.
They don’t expect me to drop everything and run when they call my name. Because I don’t. Unless they sound injured or terrified, of course…but then they’d better be injured or terrified when I arrive on the scene.
I also let them get away with a lot. Having an oldest son with special needs makes me far less worried about “typical” bad behaviors. I love it if he tries to sneak a cookie while I’m not looking. I appreciate the intelligence and stealth involved in finding something to climb without making any noise. Yes, I want him to be respectful of rules, but I take pride seeing him act like any other boy his age. I want him to feel like he can make things happen without me to help or tell him it’s O.K.
Unfortunately, this trickles down to the other kids. And in general, I’m not the best disciplinarian. I often pretend that I don’t know they are in the other room doing exactly what I told them not to do. Sometimes I just don’t feel like dealing with it.
Like the time they lined up three toddler bed mattresses along the stairs to create a giant slide? I totally knew they were doing that. But it was keeping them quiet and busy. And I figured I could just walk over and put a stop to it when the first body came hurtling down. All in all, I considered it a win-win.
So what do they gain from my passive enforcement of rules? Again, not enough to excuse my slacking, but they do get some great practice in problem solving (How do we get this past mom?) And teamwork! A critical milestone: when your children learn that they can work together to further their cause.
And of course, I DO call them to task often enough.
Personally, I’ve always been a big fan of the empty threat. It’s like my signature parenting move. Oliver, if you don’t stop throwing Thomas Trains, I’m going to put them in the garbage! Oh please, I would never do that. They’re far too expensive.
Once when I was single and child-free, I heard a mother saying to her kids, “O.K.—that’s it! If you don’t stop right now, I’ll have to call Grandma and Grandpa and tell them that we’re not coming over!” Ha! Like THAT would really happen: “Hi Mom? It’s me. I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to cancel on lunch today…yeah, the kids are being really bad.” Such an obvious empty threat made me laugh.
And now I’m the QUEEN of empty threats. Sometimes I actually lose track of what I can take away from them, and it degenerates into nebulous decrees like, “If you don’t stop kicking that door right now, I’m going to…do SOMETHING. And you’re NOT going to like it.” Now that one really stops them in their tracks. At this point I’m usually ready to send us all to our rooms for a nap.
And the positive take-away for issuing empty threats?
Oh, I don’t know… I can’t think of any great benefit to the kids. Maybe not every shortcoming has an equal and opposite upside. But I will say this about my children: If I followed through on EVERY threat I ever made to them they would have no toys, no friends, no clothes and no time outside of their rooms. So we have that going for us.
We don’t have the most regimented home life. Our kids are not as strictly disciplined as others, nor are they always well behaved. And I can’t find a positive flip side for all of my poor parenting moments. But…
I still know that I am a good parent. For everything I do wrong, there is something else that I do exactly right. And sometimes when I think I’ve hit an all-time low in bad parenting, we’ll look at each others’ incredulous expressions and burst into laughter.
We may not be perfect. But we have a good sense of humor about it. And that’s a definite perk.
Originally posted on Health News, HERE.
Oh I love this post! So honest! So awesome! I actually am the disciplinarian in our house – so far at least. But I sometimes use empty threats too – like I would EVER cancel a babysitter because they're misbehaving. NOT! Ha!
PS – I wanted to comment over there as a guest, but it wanted me to sign in so here I am instead.
Great article! Rather than leave a comment over there I'm leaving one here, but tell me if you prefer over there, okay? it's a 24 hours a day job, isn't it? There are many faults I have as a mom, empty threats most certainly one of them. I also can't say no every time I should, and this causes problems… or sometimes I say no and that's not even effective enough…
I think lining up mattress for sliding down the stairs is a great idea! Sounds like a learning experience. They're thinking outside the box and you aren't stopping them. THAT is good parenting.
Love this post. I am THE disciplinarian at our house and i admit I'm a little strict, but there's definitely things I let go and your post reminds me that some things are worth letting go.
This is a stellar piece, Kate. Loved it – you are a terrific writer. Have a great week! xo