Here is an article I wrote for Family Share:
http://familyshare.com/the-ten-commandments-a-moral-compass?Itemid=631#.UYlQApTnZFo
Here is an article I wrote for Family Share:
http://familyshare.com/the-ten-commandments-a-moral-compass?Itemid=631#.UYlQApTnZFo
Here’s a link to a nice online magazine called Glo.com where I am quoted a few times. It is entitled “Maternal Instincts: 8 secrets of happy moms.”
Anyone who knows me is probably aware of what a huge fan I am of the comic strip “Calvin and Hobbes.” In my opinion, when it left syndication, our society lost one of its shrewdest social commentators, satirists, and philosophizers on familial relationships. Not to mention it was the funniest thing ever printed (with the exception of perhaps “The Far Side”).
In one strip, Calvin, the 6-year-old boy/entrepreneur, has turned over a cardboard box on the sidewalk and is sitting behind it. On it he has written: A swift kick in the butt: $1.00. Calvin’s friend Hobbes asks him how business is going. Calvin’s discouraged reply: “Terrible. I can’t understand it. Everybody I know needs what I’m selling.”
Those sagacious words passed through my mind as literally thousands of people streamed past me with shopping carts full of kids and Costco merchandise at my book signings. In my 3-hour signing segments over the past month, I had a lot of time to watch wonderful families in all shapes and sizes. You should try it sometime…with or without a signing. Just sit there and watch people interact as they hurriedly shop for all the glorious groceries we can’t live without…like chips and mango salsa, take-and-bake pizza, and a giant box of 110 frozen cream puffs.
Here are some things I learned:
When your son pulls you over to a table where there is a book for sale about parenting and tells you that you should buy it, take that as a swift kick in the butt and ask him why (and then listen very closely).
When you respond to your phone more often than your child needing your attention, take that as a swift kick in the butt and focus on what is real.
When a man comes up to the author at her book signing table and accuses, “CHURCH OF THE DEVIL! WORSHIPPER OF SATAN!!! (and worse things that I won’t mention here) and “FALSE PRIESTHOOD!!!!” someone needs a swift kick in the butt but I won’t mention who that is here either.
When you stop and talk to a friend for 2 hours while your kids wait patiently with nothing to do, take that as a swift kick in the butt and give them 2 hours of your undivided time later.
I got a swift kick to knock me down to reality after I heard the following:
“I bought your book last week and started to read it but fell asleep.”
“Does your book have a chapter about How To Not Lose Your Kid in Costco? I’d buy it if it did.”
“Does your book have anything in there about teaching your children about sex? My daughter has 4 sons and just had a baby girl. The boys looked over her privates and said, ‘Too bad. It hasn’t grown in yet.'”
I needed a swift kick in the butt to remind me of the hypocrisy of my signing books on the subject of parenting on the same night of my daughter’s 17th birthday which prevented me from being there for her.
After watching a deluge of families with bright, beautiful, friendly kids enjoying being together, even during mundane chores like shopping, I needed a swift kick in the rear to appreciate how many moms and dads are doing an amazing job at parenting.
Most of all, I got a swift kick, or gentle reminder, that life isn’t really all that complicated. We just make it so. The things that matter most are usually right in front of us with feet dangling out the shopping cart and a face smeared with a sample of triple-layer chocolate cake.
Why has Disney cashed in on animating fairy tales and creating theme parks about them? Perhaps because their message is universal. Fairy tales are just stories about families and overcoming adversity. Little Red Riding Hood had a caring mother who sent her to visit a sick grandma (by way of a forest and a pesky wolf). Cinderella lived in a “blended family” (as we would call it today) and overcame her dire circumstances with hope, hard work and help from a few animal friends. The Five Chinese Brothers used the special skills of each sibling to survive execution, thus showing that five siblings working together are stronger than each one on his own.
Children have been told these traditional stories in countries throughout the world for centuries. These tales emboldened children who might have felt powerless otherwise, offered them optimism where cynicism was all too common, and taught them that no matter who you are, you can rise above your status-quo state of mind. Who doesn’t need those messages? We pay a lot to hear them!
Could we also use our own family stories to teach children these same lessons? Absolutely, yes! and they don’t have to be heroic deeds by knights in our family tree. In fact, they can also be stories of disappointment and loss, but ones that teach us appreciation for what we have and how we can do better.
Sharing family narratives is a lost art and one we should all recognize and foster within families. I was impressed to see research by Dr. Duke and Dr. Fivush that found the “more children knew about their family’s history, the stronger their sense of control over their lives, the higher their self-esteem and the more successfully they believed their families functioned” (“The Stories That Bind Us,” New York Times, March 15, 2013).
Knowing stories where ancestors overcame compelling challenges helps children know they can also succeed. Furthermore, those with a strong “intergenerational self” (knowing they belong to something greater than themselves), have the most self-confidence and emotional stability. Like Simba from “The Lion King,” seeing his father, Mufasa, in a vision:
Rafiki: Look down there.
Simba: [looks into a pool of water] That’s not my father. That’s just my reflection.
Rafiki: No, look harder. [touches the water, as it ripples Simba’s reflection changes to that of his father]
Rafiki: You see? He lives in you.
Mufasa: [from above] Simba.
Simba: Father?
Mufasa: [appears among the stars] Simba, you have forgotten me.
Simba: No. How could I?
Mufasa: You have forgotten who you are and so have forgotten me. Look inside yourself, Simba. You are more than what you have become. You must take your place in the Circle of Life.
Simba: How can I go back!? I’m not who I used be!
Mufasa: Remember who you are. You are my son and the one true king. Remember…
Simba: We’ll always be together, right?
Mufasa: Simba, let me tell you something my father told me. Look at the stars, the great kings of the past are up there, watching over us.
Simba: Really?
Mufasa: Yes. So whenever you feel alone just remember that those kings will always be there to guide you and so will I.
Bruce Feiler, author and motivational speaker, challenges us to tell our children where they came from as we raise them to go forward and carve their own paths. It’s another way of saying, “I’ve got your back and so do many others behind you.” I do this by saying something like this to a child: “Your great sense of humor helps you see the world in such a positive way. You inherited that gift from your grandma.” The Ugly Ducklings in the family have hope that one day they will grow into the strong, beautiful adults in their lives. When one of my daughters visited Hawaii on a vacation, I reminded her of a story from her great-grandfather’s life, my grandfather, who had a near-death experience there. It made that location so much more personal to her. It physically connected her to an ancestor she has never met.
One way to assess how well children know their extended family is to ask them simple “What Do You Know” questions. “Do you know where your grandparents were born?” “Do you know where your parents went to high school?” These could be done casually at mealtime, at bedtime, or while driving in the car. In Duke and Fivush’s study, children who scored highest on these questions also felt the highest sense of control over their lives, had higher self-esteem and belief in their family’s ability to function.
After our family Easter Egg Hunt this year, my husband and I sat four of our children down and asked them to write down the answers to 20 “What Do You Know” family history questions. The winner would get a big bonus chocolate bar for their Easter basket. We weren’t sure how they would respond to this activity since “family history” isn’t high on their lists of Fun Things I Do With My Parents.
It was quite startling to see how eager they were to participate (maybe it was just enthusiasm over more chocolate) and even turned hilarious at times. Our kids put down really funny answers when he didn’t know the correct ones (to the question: “What was the name of the ranch in Wyoming where your great-grandparents lived in a cabin?” one wrote, “Hell” instead of “Hillard”).
They didn’t score very well (the highest was 12/20) but the activity was so successful, my husband and I decided to make it an annual Easter Day tradition. I’m sure it won’t guarantee a Happily Ever After, but it does something even better: gives them power to slay their own dragons and find their own way home.
My son sent me a text last week and I answered, “Great” and quickly pushed the SEND button. Then I saw that the auto-correct changed my one-word response to “Breast.” Not exactly the word or meaning I wanted to send to my 24-year-old son.
Texting. You gotta love it.
True to my rebellious, non-conformist nature, I fought against owning a cell phone. I’m one of those “old fashioned” mothers who believes in the tried-and-true traditions of speaking to people face to face, or at least on the phone, if necessary. You know…the measure of a true two-way conversation. I also adhere to research outcomes that show a connection between attuning our brains to face-to-face social contact and better physical and emotional health.
When my oldest daughter was in high school, cell phones were transforming from a “want” to a “need” among teenagers. She was really distraught that we didn’t jump on this newest technology trend. She’d argue, “What will I do when I need to ask my friends to go to the movies/store/party with me?” The answer was so obvious to me I almost couldn’t believe I was conversing with a rational person: “Walk up to them and say, ‘Do you want to go to the movies/store/party with me?'”
No, it seems we have to text the question now. Any question. Any thought that comes into our mind. Any nonsensical, acronymic idea. The demise of the English language will slowly disintegrate as we all LOL.
Let me share something that illustrates our “evolution” of vocabulary. I was the judge for the 2012 Utah state high schools poetry contest. One entry written by Joey King received 2nd place. Vote on which love poem you’d like to receive and then ask yourself, why?
The Evolution of Love Poems
Neanderthal, Germany
Two figures on a cave wall
Not quite touching
Between them, a fire
Mesopotamia
A hundred leagues I traveled wearing the skin of a lion
Having the strength of eight oxen and the body of a god.
Then why this sadness deep within?
Rome
When will I be conquered?
I, who have torn down the Celtic gods,
And strewn salt in Carthage’s wounded womb;
I, who have beaten Sparta and made its bronze
Ring like a bell? I, who have sailed an army
Down the Nile and torn apart the pyramids
brick by brick? When will I be conquered?
When you open your pale white hand.
Medieval Europe
I know myself am common born,
Low and base and mean,
But when I hear thee call me love
I think myself a king.
Victorian England
Roses are red violets are lilac,
You hold my heart in your hand like Shylock.
The New World
Before they tear the beating hearts from their victims’
Chests, the savages give them a poisoned wine
To deaden the pain. You give me nothing.
20th Century
Entrenched in my love for you
I have forgotten to feel the edge of your letter
In my pocket. Your scent is long gone.
I feel blown to bits.
Ten Seconds Ago
Do U ❤ me?
Check yes or no.
Texting is a wonderful, terrible thing. It is wonderful. I do love many aspects of it and have embraced my cell phone (well, given it a lukewarm hug) in many ways. But…
I have university students who cannot write a paper without using texting punctuation, as if they wrote it on their phone and forwarded it to me! Parents have the ugly duty of teaching their children the realities of sexting and other promiscuous perils that come with phone use. My daughter said she has a friend who has banned herself from Twitter because she has become a “Tweetaholic.” Who hasn’t been in a room with a teenager holding a phone and while you are trying to have a conversation, you watch them answer unrelenting texts, play games or surf the web?
How far will it go? I feel parents are riding a willful horse; technology is taking us all for a ride and many don’t have the reigns firmly in hand. I know I don’t. I’m still struggling and have been saddle-sore now for many years.
I once took my toddler to a classical concert wearing nothing other than Ninja Turtle underpants.
Well, let me back up.
My husband and I were living in Chicago, Illinois and had two young children at the time: a son, who was five and a daughter, who was about two years old. We often took advantage of attending cultural events that were so abundant in that area. Our stroller was very familiar with toting children around museums, parks and arts shows, and to Broadway theater, symphonies and concerts. We didn’t want to let kids slow us down!
One December, my husband and I made special plans to introduce our two young children to the ageless beauty of Handel’s “Messiah.” Taking a five-year-old and toddler to such an classy event might seem overly ambitious to other (sane) parents, but we thought nothing of it. We were cultured people, after all, passing down our love of classical music in its highest forms to our posterity.
I dressed my children in their Sunday best, putting my daughter in a particularly frilly pink dress with matching hair bow, white tights and buckled shoes. I hadn’t finished her laundry that day and she didn’t have any clean underwear (you know how many pairs of underwear you go through in the potty training stage?). So, being the resourceful mother that I am, I put her in her older brother’s underwear (Ninja Turtle, of course), rationalizing that no one would see them under her tights and fancy dress.
It took about 45 minutes to drive to the building where the concert was held. My husband pulled into the parking lot and parked the car; I got out and opened the back door to unlatch my children and take out my daughter from the car seat. Just as I lifted her out, she threw up all over herself. She is very prone to carsickness and unfortunately, that drive just happened to spill the beans, so to speak.
I want to remind you also, that winters in Chicago are brutal. So we were standing in a blizzard in a parking lot with a toddler dressed in pinkish throw up. Do you just turn around and drive home? That might have seen like a viable option to other (sane) parents. But we weighed our options through chattering teeth:
1. Drive home for another 3/4 of an hour with the ripe smell of vomit and a crying daughter.
2. Go inside and try to clean her up and then drive back home.
We’re not dumb, so we went for #2 which meant we’d have a clean daughter, but would all miss out on the once-a-year, much-anticipated “Messiah” concert and waste our tickets. Why not just stay, I suggested (option #3). We might not have been dumb, but parents are desperate sometimes, and we desperately wanted to see and hear the concert. So I undressed her…whereupon I realized in stark dismay that she had on her loosely-fitting brother’s underwear. Doh! I quickly covered her up in her coat and called it good. Haute couture for concert-going two-year-olds.
Then the real trouble happened. During the concert, our toddler wiggled out of our arms, escaped through our legs and ripped off her coat. You saw that coming, didn’t you? Picture this: a little girl running up and down the aisle wearing nothing but Ninja Turtle underwear that fell down to her ankles as we sat in horror while the choir sang, “Unto Us a Child is Born.”
I think we finally retrieved her under the cold stare of strangers. I don’t really remember. Parents have selective memory loss after traumatic events like childbirth and “Messiah” concerts with children running naked. It’s why we’re dumb, desperate, and yes, completely insane.
If I could offer you a “Magic Wand” to wave over your children that would offer these results, would you take it and use it?
* Less likely to have eating disorders
* Lower risk of smoking, drinking and using marijuana
* Lower incidence of depressive symptoms and suicidal thoughts
* Better grades
* Less likely to have sexually active friends
The “Magic Wand”?
Family Dinners.
Surprised?
Studies confirm that adolescents whose families provide meal frequency as well as a positive mealtime atmosphere are more likely to have healthy eating patterns and less likely to have eating disorders (see “Benefits of the Dinner Table Ritual” New York Times, May 3, 2005).
Impressive results.
I’ve yet to find research that strongly indicates the when families habitually “graze” in the kitchen, or go foraging nightly for fast food, they have the same results as families who eat together on a regular basis. In fact, it’s often the opposite and regularly eating fast food increases the chances of childhood obesity among other risk factors. Too many families have given up on the tradition of preparing, eating, and cleaning up meals together.
No time, they say.
I absolutely understand that many families have very busy lives and finding time (not to mention, energy) for food preparation is difficult. The purpose of this parenting article is not to debate that or to address how to work a daily home-cooked meal into an overwhelmingly busy schedule. I just want remind ourselves that our short-ranged behaviors and priorities can have serious consequences in the long run. Those who are determined to make improvements will do so.
Small changes can have monumental results. Consider these:
Do you find that you rarely sit down together to eat? Perhaps make it possible to eat once or twice a week together.
Do you find that dinnertime is impossible to bring everyone together? Perhaps plan for breakfasts to offer the benefits of the “dinner table” ritual instead.
Do you find that you only eat together once or twice a week? Perhaps you can increase it to three or four.
Yes, it’s preferable that the meals are home cooked and that vegetables, whole grains and fruits prevail over other non-essential foods. But I’m more concerned with the quality of interaction at that time of day than the food itself if I have to make a choice. Making pancakes and sausage can be a great option, especially for picky eaters and parents who are intimidated by making “gourmet” meals like Chicken Salad Sandwiches (which I am making tonight; only 10 minute prep!). You can add the healthy stuff later as your confidence grows.
Those research study outcomes happened when the kids knew they were needed at home and welcomed at the table. Children will not want to sit down if their chair becomes an instrument of interrogation and torture as they are continually criticized while passing the salt. Parents who do family meals right create a warm, friendly environment as they look each other in the eye across the table, ask questions, listen and laugh together. That means…
Turn off the TV.
Turn off the cell phones and other electronic devices.
Turn on your parenting power to influence your kids for a lifetime of good. It’s magic.
How many times have you heard this (or some variation)? “Have fun with your kids while they are young. One day they will be teenagers.” Is this a phase to be endured? Should we lock them up when at 14 and let them out when they are 21? Many parents dread and fear this stage of life–raising teenagers.
I’ve raised four adolescents (well, the fourth turns 17 this month so she’s on the downhill) and I have to say that this can be some of the most rewarding, exciting, fun times in your parenting. These kids have and appreciate a sophisticated sense of humor. You can share so many things (music, movies, gourmet food, literature and learning, travel, etc.). You get to know their friends and be a part of great activities. And you really get a glimpse of who they will be as adults. It’s awesome, really. Our job is to start letting go through those teenager years so they can become those responsible adults.
Kind of like birds, nests and learning how to fly. We’ve had ample opportunities since birth to feather the nest by teaching, training, modeling, reinforcing, praising and encouraging the values, behaviors and ideals we’d like our children to espouse. During the gradual letting-go years, it’s time for us to watch our baby birds grow up, exercise their wings and start to fly. Parents need to help their children gain emotional, physical, spiritual and social readiness to stand on their own and make mature decision we can be proud of when we aren’t there anymore.
One way we do this is through talking. When I say “talking,” I mean the parents should do less of the talking and more of the listening. Especially in the teen years. I admit…I’m a talker. I really need to work on letting my teenagers do more talking and me, the listening. We need to ask more of the open-ended “Wh” questions: Who…What…When…Where… We need to find when our teenagers are most emotionally available to open up to conversations. Some like talking in the car (turn off your cell phones, car radios and televisions!); some like to be taken out to lunch or shopping (girls especially, right?); some like to do something physical together (walking, hiking, biking, playing sports, etc); some open up late at night. When we get this right, it can be amazing.
I talked with my (soon-to-be) 17-year-old, Rachel, a few days ago and did it right by preparing her for that discussion. I told her ahead of time that at a certain time when she was free, I wanted to go over some goals in her life. Of course she rolled her eyes and resisted. But I persisted in a friendly and casual tone. We began by going over what was important to her and what God wanted her to do with her life (taking the “mom” part out of it). We discussed various standards for her life.
We were in the middle of discussing how to take care of our bodies and she rattled off all the correct answers. It was what she had been taught by her parents and other leaders. But what was important in that moment was to have Rachel find out what Rachel thought. So I asked, “Why do you believe what you’ve just said is true?” She quickly responded, “Because I only have one body and I don’t want to be stupid with it. If I ruin it with drug addiction or something else, it’s not like I can trade it in for another one. It’s all I’ve got.”
Wow. There’s no way in all the lessons on morality in the world that someone could distill truth better than what just came out of my daughter’s mouth. Best of all, she said it to herself. And believed it. She showed me a glimpse of that incredible, mature, independent-thinking adult she is becoming. I couldn’t have been more happy or more proud.
I think she’s ready to fly.
How often do you hear your child say, “I’m not good enough,” or “Why try? I always fail”? Where did she learn to put limits on herself? Why does he listen to the voice of doubt? I’d like you to consider the powerful impact we have on our children recognizing and acting on their abilities.
I have known enough people in my life and read enough inspiring personal accounts that I am convinced we are capable of achieving much more than we think. Our children are born with so much potential to be discovered and nurtured, just like a seed planted, waiting to burst through the soil.
Friedrich Froebel (1782 – 1852) was a great German educational scientist who recognized a child’s limitless abilities. He is the father of the modern Kindergarten. Froebel gave it that name to suggest a powerful image. The word “Kindergarten” is derived from two German words: “Kinter” (Children) and “Garten” (Garden). Thus, a classroom for young children was a child’s garden, a place for them to learn and grow. What a beautiful picture: a parent or teacher as the Gardener; the child as the Plant that is nourished by our hand.
So why is it some children do not thrive? Why do we put limits on ourselves? Is it because we allow shallow expectations to define who we are? Is it because our parents somehow made us feel less than capable? I saw the following YouTube video about a young man who told his parents he wanted to own a restaurant. No big deal, right? That’s a probable aspiration for a career. One small thing: this young man was born with Down Syndrome. Many parents in that situation would say, “That’s a nice idea, but it won’t work. Let’s try something more reasonable.” Instead, the parents of this young man saw a boy with a dream and made it happen. They saw the potential. They gave him the light, water, soil and nutrients for him to grow into a businessman. His diner bears his name: “Tim’s Place,” where he serves “breakfast, lunch and hugs.” Tim says, “The hugs are the best part.” I agree. His parents knew his strengths and accentuated the positive by putting those words right there on the diner marquee. I want a hug from Tim. It’s an inspiring story:
In my book, Parenting With Spiritual Power, I wrote a chapter on seeing the vison of what our children can become. It is a powerful concept. I suggested that our role as Gardener, “will improve as we cultivate acceptance of others wherever may be and have faith in whom they can become.” I’d like to finish with an except from the book that shares an experience of parents of children with Down Syndrome, like those in the video. It also illustrates how we should not define ourselves or our children by what we can’t do, but what we can. In chapter nine, it reads:
I taught a young lady at Utah Valley University years ago with Down Syndrome. She was a bright and cheerful student, very motivated to perform her best. I learned a little of her background during the semester. Her mother, along with another mother of a son with Down Syndrome, attended a national convention for Down Syndrome many years prior, when their children were young. Most parents were told in those days they would be lucky if their child could be taught to care for themselves. There was little prospect they could do much beyond that. The convention speaker asked the parents to imagine what their child could achieve in their lifetime. He told them to think high, to consider all possibilities. While they each silently thought—wished beyond hope—of what their child could achieve, he said, “Now I want you to double that. ”
My student’s mother shared this story as we toured the facility she and the other mother founded after they returned from that convention. There had been only one early intervention program for special needs children where they lived and the program’s philosophy was: “Love them, but don’t expect much.” Consequently, these two mothers resolved to begin a new center. They focused on the ability rather than the disability. Their facility now treats thousands of children and has helped thousands become more than previously realized. Because of these mothers’ changed vision of what their children could be, their son and daughter have achieved much, much more than they ever would have imagined. The son with Down Syndrome also attended the university, is a temple ordinance worker and has been in over 16 community theater productions. After his latest performance in “Fiddler on the Roof,” with a packed house every night, he came home and exclaimed, “Mom, it’s such a burden to be famous!”
I was at one of this young man’s performances. The stage became a garden with flowers of every kind swaying, growing, and reaching up toward the sun. These performers had been nurtured by caring gardeners, carefully tended and lovingly cherished.
And the hugs from children are the best part.
I’m about to share with you one of my favorite YouTube videos. No, it’s not a cute baby saying something adorable. It’s not even one of those funny pet video clips. Spoiler alert: it’s serious and it’s seriously awesome.
Quite a few months ago, I watched a few presenters at the 2012 Aspen Ideas Festival, moderated by TV Anchorwoman, Katie Couric. The speaker who enthralled me by her eloquence, intelligence, and balanced parenting perspective was Anne-Marie Slaughter. She was featured after she wrote a piece for the Atlantic called, “Why Women Can’t Have It All,” which stirred up no small dust storm of controversy.
In this YouTube video, she explains her tug and pull of working for the US State Department while raising two teenage sons. She frankly discusses how she created a work-life balance which required sacrifice, commitment and following her maternal instincts.Gasp! Does anyone talk about that anymore? Do we acknowledge maternal or paternal instincts or are we just in a have-it-all, economy-driven society? When challenged on her choices and outspoken opinions, she granted that each parent should follow their own path, without judgment from others. But in her case, she examined her choices and eventually quit her high profile job because her sons needed her.Gasp, again.
Not everyone has a choice to work or not; that is indisputable. Many women have to earn a paycheck. Their children know it is for them that they make that sacrifice.They are united in purpose. Far too many parents, though, work far more than necessary to buy things that are far less than necessary. Those children also know what their parents value.
What is necessary, then? Another presenter at the conference, Lori Gottlieb, said her research and private practice with families has shown her something about what are the most cherish childhood memories. She revealed, “In my therapy practice, what people say is this: Their fondest memories are playing Scrabble before bed, stirring pancake batter on a Sunday morning, tossing a ball out front, hanging out in their pajamas until noon, and those silly inside family jokes that still make them laugh 20 years later.”
I know this balancing act. I’ve felt this rope of tug and pull. I’ve sometimes even found myself on the end of a frayed knot, hanging on for dear life. It was hard to be a good or responsive parent in these moments. What I want to share is this: whenever I’m faced with a proposition for paid employment outside (or even inside) the home, my children and husband’s needs come first. Our short- and long-term goals are always in view. The sacred stewardship of parenthood directs all our choices. We remember these wise words: “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Matthew 6:21).
I want my treasure chest to be filled with pancake batter, PJ’s and popcorn, Scrabble tiles, warm embraces and long Sunday walks with my children by my side. And chocolate wouldn’t be too bad either.