...to do stuff like this.
Home study in one week! Classes in two!
Showing posts with label Hopes and Fears. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hopes and Fears. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
Watchin' the dog...
...watchin' you.
This article has some great research and commentary on canine behavior. We've got three pooches hanging around the house, and I can attest that they miss no opportunity to associate some cue with some action.
Our TV makes a characteristic musical tone when we shut it off. The dogs have learned that when they hear that tone, it's time to go outside and go potty before bed. I've demonstrated this for the delight of various visitors: watching TV late at night, all three dogs conked out on the floor in various places, completely dead to the world. We'll be talking in normal tones, the dogs never waking or stirring, and I'll say "watch this".
Remote: *click*
TV: "bee-dee-boop"
All three dogs will go from complete unconsciousness to on their feet in about the space of a second, then scamper to the kitchen door to be let out.
What's even more interesting is treat time... they know their individual tricks:
Zeus: speak, roll over, down, up, etc.
Zoe: speak, high-five, down, sit, etc.
Zack: "I can sit."
"Zack, speak!"
"I can sit."
"Zack, roll over!"
"I can sit."
Yeah, he's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, though I'd still bet on him in a contest against Simple Dog.
Where was I? Oh yeah... my point was, when it's treat time, if you hold up a treat but don't give them a cue, they will actually start running through their repertoire of tricks (or in Zack's case, he can look more and more pathetic as he sits and drools) in order to get the treat.
All of this is leads me to my observations of my cousins and brother, with their kids, which say to me that it's pretty much the same with kids -- with the added wrinkle that kids can actually communicate in English. I've seen my cousin's husband simply give his kids a look, and they quiet down, change direction, shut up, or whatever. I've seen my brother giving nonverbal cues that prompt my little nephew to immediately anticipate that something's going to happen, even if he's not exactly sure what it is. And I'm sure that the added language element factors in, in ways far too complex to map with my limited interactions.
Of course, from the Tricia debacle and my own experience with dogs, I know all too well how easy it is to "teach" bad behaviors by not being cognizant of the constant observation. I know what's required to have perfectly behaved dogs, and frankly it's more than I'm willing to invest, so I settle for dogs that mind when it's important for them to mind and who understand how to peacefully coexist in my house (e.g. stay off the furniture, don't poop on the rug, food that's on the floor is fair game but anywhere else is cause to get your snout slapped, etc.).
The interesting thing will be trying to do this with kids. A friend recently told me that as you are with your dogs, you will be with your kids. So I don't expect to be trying to wring perfect behavior out of them; I just want them to coexist peacefully, mind when it's important to do so, and learn a few things (tricks?) along the way, like not pooping on the rug.
This article has some great research and commentary on canine behavior. We've got three pooches hanging around the house, and I can attest that they miss no opportunity to associate some cue with some action.
Our TV makes a characteristic musical tone when we shut it off. The dogs have learned that when they hear that tone, it's time to go outside and go potty before bed. I've demonstrated this for the delight of various visitors: watching TV late at night, all three dogs conked out on the floor in various places, completely dead to the world. We'll be talking in normal tones, the dogs never waking or stirring, and I'll say "watch this".
Remote: *click*
TV: "bee-dee-boop"
All three dogs will go from complete unconsciousness to on their feet in about the space of a second, then scamper to the kitchen door to be let out.
What's even more interesting is treat time... they know their individual tricks:
Zeus: speak, roll over, down, up, etc.
Zoe: speak, high-five, down, sit, etc.
Zack: "I can sit."
"Zack, speak!"
"I can sit."
"Zack, roll over!"
"I can sit."
Yeah, he's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, though I'd still bet on him in a contest against Simple Dog.
Where was I? Oh yeah... my point was, when it's treat time, if you hold up a treat but don't give them a cue, they will actually start running through their repertoire of tricks (or in Zack's case, he can look more and more pathetic as he sits and drools) in order to get the treat.
All of this is leads me to my observations of my cousins and brother, with their kids, which say to me that it's pretty much the same with kids -- with the added wrinkle that kids can actually communicate in English. I've seen my cousin's husband simply give his kids a look, and they quiet down, change direction, shut up, or whatever. I've seen my brother giving nonverbal cues that prompt my little nephew to immediately anticipate that something's going to happen, even if he's not exactly sure what it is. And I'm sure that the added language element factors in, in ways far too complex to map with my limited interactions.
Of course, from the Tricia debacle and my own experience with dogs, I know all too well how easy it is to "teach" bad behaviors by not being cognizant of the constant observation. I know what's required to have perfectly behaved dogs, and frankly it's more than I'm willing to invest, so I settle for dogs that mind when it's important for them to mind and who understand how to peacefully coexist in my house (e.g. stay off the furniture, don't poop on the rug, food that's on the floor is fair game but anywhere else is cause to get your snout slapped, etc.).
The interesting thing will be trying to do this with kids. A friend recently told me that as you are with your dogs, you will be with your kids. So I don't expect to be trying to wring perfect behavior out of them; I just want them to coexist peacefully, mind when it's important to do so, and learn a few things (tricks?) along the way, like not pooping on the rug.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Grandma's Revenge
The story of kid karma is pretty well-known. You drive your parents nuts being X kind of child, and you get X kind of child when you become a parent. As one comedian put it, the goal of parenthood is to live long enough to see your grandchildren get revenge on your kids.
My brother's firstborn is stubborn as a mule, much like his dad. Our dad loves to tell the anecdote of how my brother, at around 6 or 7 years old, refused to eat his dinner and sat at the table and made himself sick rather than eat a couple of bites of something he'd probably eaten before and has probably eaten since. This is the kid who later declared he wanted to slurp a raw egg, and mom went along with it just to see if he'd actually do it, so it's not about food grossing him out. He just wasn't going to eat his dinner, and nobody was darn well going to tell him otherwise.
The nephew is now exacting Grandma's Revenge on him, and thus all is well with the universe as I understand it.
I recently started thinking of what I was like as a kid. Of course, I only have my perspective to go on, but I remember being pretty closed off, content to lose myself in a book rather than engage with anyone (including or perhaps especially family). I also preferred to learn things "the hard way". I remember distinctly being told about this or that, and why you do something this way and not the other way. I also remember thinking in each of those circumstances, "maybe someone just hasn't really given the other way a fair shot". And then I'd go off and do it "the hard way", just to find out if what I'd been told was correct.
Most of the time, it was. But I was rewarded in my endeavors often enough that I kept up the pattern of behavior well into adulthood.
I don't know if my parents ever realized that I was doing things this way consciously and deliberately, but that's the way I learn. I have a visceral need to experience the failure of "the wrong way" first-hand. For me, learning is an iterative process, and that's probably why I love what I do for a living. Granted, my wife's patience doesn't allow for as much iteration as I'd prefer, especially when it comes to doing stuff around the house.
("Why can't we just leave it like that for a while? I'll eventually get tired of looking at the crooked board and figure out how to fix it.")
But I still learn best when I have time to discover and contemplate my mistakes rather than having someone point them out to me, or worse, try to anticipate my mistakes beforehand.
We're adopting, so maybe none of this applies at all, but I can't help thinking that more than likely I'll wind up with a kid who needs to learn experientially, who doesn't process criticism (even the constructive kind) gracefully, and who would rather be left alone with a book or computer than dragged to a family function, even something as entertaining as the Christmas get-together. I could also end up with a kid who's a little too smart and a little too anti-social for his own good. I think I'm up to the challenge, but only time will tell.
I know my parents are waiting to be entertained.
My brother's firstborn is stubborn as a mule, much like his dad. Our dad loves to tell the anecdote of how my brother, at around 6 or 7 years old, refused to eat his dinner and sat at the table and made himself sick rather than eat a couple of bites of something he'd probably eaten before and has probably eaten since. This is the kid who later declared he wanted to slurp a raw egg, and mom went along with it just to see if he'd actually do it, so it's not about food grossing him out. He just wasn't going to eat his dinner, and nobody was darn well going to tell him otherwise.
The nephew is now exacting Grandma's Revenge on him, and thus all is well with the universe as I understand it.
I recently started thinking of what I was like as a kid. Of course, I only have my perspective to go on, but I remember being pretty closed off, content to lose myself in a book rather than engage with anyone (including or perhaps especially family). I also preferred to learn things "the hard way". I remember distinctly being told about this or that, and why you do something this way and not the other way. I also remember thinking in each of those circumstances, "maybe someone just hasn't really given the other way a fair shot". And then I'd go off and do it "the hard way", just to find out if what I'd been told was correct.
Most of the time, it was. But I was rewarded in my endeavors often enough that I kept up the pattern of behavior well into adulthood.
I don't know if my parents ever realized that I was doing things this way consciously and deliberately, but that's the way I learn. I have a visceral need to experience the failure of "the wrong way" first-hand. For me, learning is an iterative process, and that's probably why I love what I do for a living. Granted, my wife's patience doesn't allow for as much iteration as I'd prefer, especially when it comes to doing stuff around the house.
("Why can't we just leave it like that for a while? I'll eventually get tired of looking at the crooked board and figure out how to fix it.")
But I still learn best when I have time to discover and contemplate my mistakes rather than having someone point them out to me, or worse, try to anticipate my mistakes beforehand.
We're adopting, so maybe none of this applies at all, but I can't help thinking that more than likely I'll wind up with a kid who needs to learn experientially, who doesn't process criticism (even the constructive kind) gracefully, and who would rather be left alone with a book or computer than dragged to a family function, even something as entertaining as the Christmas get-together. I could also end up with a kid who's a little too smart and a little too anti-social for his own good. I think I'm up to the challenge, but only time will tell.
I know my parents are waiting to be entertained.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Worries and Wonderings
One of my favorite people in the whole world is a Methodist minister named Richard. He's an expert in "family systems", which I take to mean the relational dynamics that occur within a family and also how it affects the individuals' relationships outside the family. He has a great ability to empathize and see things from another's point of view, and he is always a calming influence on me when I am troubled or agitated about something.
Richard once had a conversation with me about children. It was in the context of dealing with troubled children, but he phrased his main thought in such a way as to include all children. He said, "I almost believe that if each child has someone in their lives who values them just for being, whose relationship with the child communicates clearly 'you are valuable just because you are here', without putting expectations or judgments into the mix... that would almost be enough."
I don't know if it's appropriate for one attempting to parent to be that person or not. It seems that parenting necessarily involves some expectations and judgments, so it may be that only a grandparent or aunt or uncle can really be that person. But to the extent that I am able, this is what I want to communicate to our kids. "You are valuable just because you are here." It seems especially important to me when I consider the message that may have been communicated to them through the foster care system: "you are a burden and a lot of trouble to have around... so much so that we actually have to pay people to care for you."
I worry constantly about being able to forge a connection with our kids. My nephew knows instinctively who his parents are. He's never had to think about it, and he feels an attachment to them at a profound level. I have almost no hope of being able to reach that level with our kids, and I despair at being able to even approach it. I'm an introvert to begin with, and sometimes interaction with my wife is about all I can handle. How do I convince two or more strangers, who have likely been hurt by other adults, that I do actually care for them and want to have that same connection that my brother and his son obviously share?
Wow, suddenly my mind just shot over to the standard Christian narrative about God trying to convince us all that He loves us. I'm going to have to ruminate on that a bit.
Richard once had a conversation with me about children. It was in the context of dealing with troubled children, but he phrased his main thought in such a way as to include all children. He said, "I almost believe that if each child has someone in their lives who values them just for being, whose relationship with the child communicates clearly 'you are valuable just because you are here', without putting expectations or judgments into the mix... that would almost be enough."
I don't know if it's appropriate for one attempting to parent to be that person or not. It seems that parenting necessarily involves some expectations and judgments, so it may be that only a grandparent or aunt or uncle can really be that person. But to the extent that I am able, this is what I want to communicate to our kids. "You are valuable just because you are here." It seems especially important to me when I consider the message that may have been communicated to them through the foster care system: "you are a burden and a lot of trouble to have around... so much so that we actually have to pay people to care for you."
I worry constantly about being able to forge a connection with our kids. My nephew knows instinctively who his parents are. He's never had to think about it, and he feels an attachment to them at a profound level. I have almost no hope of being able to reach that level with our kids, and I despair at being able to even approach it. I'm an introvert to begin with, and sometimes interaction with my wife is about all I can handle. How do I convince two or more strangers, who have likely been hurt by other adults, that I do actually care for them and want to have that same connection that my brother and his son obviously share?
Wow, suddenly my mind just shot over to the standard Christian narrative about God trying to convince us all that He loves us. I'm going to have to ruminate on that a bit.
Back to the Wait
The 'rents are headed back to Ohio, bearing the news for the rest of the extended family (at least, the ones who aren't on Facebook). They really enjoyed the video that DHS sent us, and said it changed their attitude toward adopting teenagers, as it did my own.
The teenager question is a weird one. I go from thinking it'd probably be OK to thinking it'd be a disaster. Suddenly having a 16- or 17-year-old hanging around is an extremely intimidating image. At that point it feels like the best you can offer is a sort of "finishing school" to prepare them for The Real World (by which I mean, not the show on MTV). It would necessarily be a cooperative effort, and if they don't feel like cooperating I don't know how much could be done about it.
I spent thewaffling weekending weekend waffling between complete confidence and near panic about the whole thing. There's so much to talk about that I felt like I couldn't figure out where to begin, so I just kept blurting out random thoughts like a Tourette's patient. We had some good conversations, and I'm sure there'll be more in the months ahead.
Oh yeah, I left another message with Tonya, and attempted to call Gisele...
*drums fingers on table*
*twiddles thumbs*
*whistles tunelessly*
...guess that's about it.
The teenager question is a weird one. I go from thinking it'd probably be OK to thinking it'd be a disaster. Suddenly having a 16- or 17-year-old hanging around is an extremely intimidating image. At that point it feels like the best you can offer is a sort of "finishing school" to prepare them for The Real World (by which I mean, not the show on MTV). It would necessarily be a cooperative effort, and if they don't feel like cooperating I don't know how much could be done about it.
I spent the
Oh yeah, I left another message with Tonya, and attempted to call Gisele...
*drums fingers on table*
*twiddles thumbs*
*whistles tunelessly*
...guess that's about it.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Calling All Nerdlets
The wife sent me this article:
How "Dungeons & Dragons" changed my life
It outlines a lot of positive things that have come from the pencil-and-paper roleplaying genre of games. It passes up some of the family interaction upsides, which I was not fortunate enough to have as a kid, but I know people who did. One of my best friends gamed with his entire family, with his father usually running the game, and I find fascinating the potential for family bonding, shared creativity, and learning about one another.
I previously wrote that I'm torturing the wife with talk of running a game with the kids, but my interest is not solely fueled by my nerd-dom. I think it could be a wonderful way to allow kids to express themselves and provide launching points for conversation, not to mention being far more interactive and engaging than simply drooling in front of the TV together.
How "Dungeons & Dragons" changed my life
It outlines a lot of positive things that have come from the pencil-and-paper roleplaying genre of games. It passes up some of the family interaction upsides, which I was not fortunate enough to have as a kid, but I know people who did. One of my best friends gamed with his entire family, with his father usually running the game, and I find fascinating the potential for family bonding, shared creativity, and learning about one another.
I previously wrote that I'm torturing the wife with talk of running a game with the kids, but my interest is not solely fueled by my nerd-dom. I think it could be a wonderful way to allow kids to express themselves and provide launching points for conversation, not to mention being far more interactive and engaging than simply drooling in front of the TV together.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Epic Fail
One thing continues to weigh heavily on our minds as we move forward with the process. It concerns our one previous attempt at parenting, which ended in disaster.
We had been married about 3 years, and were about 25 or 26 years old at the time. A younger relative was having problems with her single father, and we decided to try to intervene. We offered to take her in and see if we could better handle things, but in our hubris we made some critical errors in judgment.
The first was that we were 25 or 26 years old and jumping into a parenting relationship with a 13 year old girl. The second was that we were naively unaware of all the ways in which a 13 year old girl from the backwaters of Ohio could get herself into trouble in a suburb of Detroit. More experienced parents might have noticed that she was essentially starved for affection/attention, and known that she would immediately seek such things from friends and boys, or at least known that it was a really good possibility.
What followed was an 8-month stretch of virtually continuous contact with school authorities, police officers, random property owners, and other parents. Perhaps most disconcerting of all was the indifference displayed by that last group. We'd try to engage her friends' parents on what they were doing, and those parents would just give us a "kids will be kids" answer and laugh it off.
At the end of the period, we'd made arrangements to move to another suburb where we could get into a house instead of an apartment. We figured it would be good for her to have a change of scenery, but we were rapidly approaching our wits' end. We took a load of stuff to the new house, about 45 minutes away, and when we returned we found that she and her friends had kicked in the door to the apartment ("I forgot my key") and proceeded to put all sorts of holes in the drywall. My $1000 security deposit was as good as gone, and I realized that if 8 months with us hadn't taught her even the minimum amount of respect for the property of others, nothing we could do was likely to communicate that lesson.
It was a rough decision, and a rough trip back to Ohio, but we wound up handing her off to another relative who thought (also wrongly) that she could do better. Eventually the girl wound up in foster care with a family who apparently specialized in taming wild animals. For the time that she spent there, we mostly heard good reports of how well she was doing, with only the occasional report of more craziness (like jumping out of a 2nd-story window in an attempt to run away). But it seemed like every time she got out among "normal" folks like family members, she immediately felt a need to dial it up to Eleven.
I became convinced for some time after that there was no creature on earth quite as evil and malicious as a 13 year old girl. I still have moments of panic when I consider that we might have the same situation all over again, because there are no guarantees. I get a little impatient when folks give me the "you never know what you're getting when you adopt" speech, as though I'm all starry-eyed about the prospects. Believe me, I know how badly it can go. I desperately hope that it doesn't (again). But I'm doing it anyway.
She's 27 or something like that now. She's got a boy of her own, who appears to be a hyperactive terror. I don't know if it's just in the genes or what. We're still in contact with her (going to visit this summer, in fact), and she has expressed regret that she didn't realize sooner just how much we were all trying to help her, in our own flawed ways. When we told her of the adoption plan, she had the most honest reaction I've ever heard: "didn't you learn your lesson with me?"
I'm a different person than I was 14 years ago. I have far less of a temper. I'm more at peace with myself. I've experienced a re-conversion to Christianity. I'm a fair bit more philosophical and self-controlled in a whole lot of ways.
I consider myself to have failed her in three important respects. The first is that I did not fully understand or appreciate who she was before I offered to take her in. I have a habit of expecting people to be their best, even when they are not. I find that expecting good things from someone improves my interactions with them over expecting bad things. It leaves me open to more injury, but I've never seen value in treating someone as a criminal -- you can live in your past, or you can live in spite of it, and I for one am here to help you do the latter. But it would have been nice if I had taken the time to really understand what I was dealing with so that I didn't expect too much too soon.
The second way that I failed her had to do with my parenting "technique", which largely involved a lot of yelling. I wanted her to be a good kid, and I had good times with her when she was, but when she screwed up, my only "skill" was yelling about it in an attempt to scare it out of her. I realize now that I was an idiot, and I'm actually looking forward to the parenting classes the State requires me to take. I'm depending on them to teach me some actual parenting skills.
The third way that I failed her was in finally giving up on her. This is honestly the only one that I'm ashamed of. The first two can be chalked up to judgment, in the mode of the old saying that good judgment comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgment. I can't help that I didn't have experience then, and it's unrealistic for me to expect my past self to have had some. I've got some now, and I'm better for it.
But I'm still ashamed of the fact that I gave up on her. I'm sure I sent her a message that said she wasn't worth my time, and I can't imagine what that must have done. I also realize that it's entirely possible the foster family was the only place where she had any chance to "succeed", but it doesn't change the fact that I quit before I'd really exhausted every avenue. I've resolved to do no such thing this time around.
We had been married about 3 years, and were about 25 or 26 years old at the time. A younger relative was having problems with her single father, and we decided to try to intervene. We offered to take her in and see if we could better handle things, but in our hubris we made some critical errors in judgment.
The first was that we were 25 or 26 years old and jumping into a parenting relationship with a 13 year old girl. The second was that we were naively unaware of all the ways in which a 13 year old girl from the backwaters of Ohio could get herself into trouble in a suburb of Detroit. More experienced parents might have noticed that she was essentially starved for affection/attention, and known that she would immediately seek such things from friends and boys, or at least known that it was a really good possibility.
What followed was an 8-month stretch of virtually continuous contact with school authorities, police officers, random property owners, and other parents. Perhaps most disconcerting of all was the indifference displayed by that last group. We'd try to engage her friends' parents on what they were doing, and those parents would just give us a "kids will be kids" answer and laugh it off.
At the end of the period, we'd made arrangements to move to another suburb where we could get into a house instead of an apartment. We figured it would be good for her to have a change of scenery, but we were rapidly approaching our wits' end. We took a load of stuff to the new house, about 45 minutes away, and when we returned we found that she and her friends had kicked in the door to the apartment ("I forgot my key") and proceeded to put all sorts of holes in the drywall. My $1000 security deposit was as good as gone, and I realized that if 8 months with us hadn't taught her even the minimum amount of respect for the property of others, nothing we could do was likely to communicate that lesson.
It was a rough decision, and a rough trip back to Ohio, but we wound up handing her off to another relative who thought (also wrongly) that she could do better. Eventually the girl wound up in foster care with a family who apparently specialized in taming wild animals. For the time that she spent there, we mostly heard good reports of how well she was doing, with only the occasional report of more craziness (like jumping out of a 2nd-story window in an attempt to run away). But it seemed like every time she got out among "normal" folks like family members, she immediately felt a need to dial it up to Eleven.
I became convinced for some time after that there was no creature on earth quite as evil and malicious as a 13 year old girl. I still have moments of panic when I consider that we might have the same situation all over again, because there are no guarantees. I get a little impatient when folks give me the "you never know what you're getting when you adopt" speech, as though I'm all starry-eyed about the prospects. Believe me, I know how badly it can go. I desperately hope that it doesn't (again). But I'm doing it anyway.
She's 27 or something like that now. She's got a boy of her own, who appears to be a hyperactive terror. I don't know if it's just in the genes or what. We're still in contact with her (going to visit this summer, in fact), and she has expressed regret that she didn't realize sooner just how much we were all trying to help her, in our own flawed ways. When we told her of the adoption plan, she had the most honest reaction I've ever heard: "didn't you learn your lesson with me?"
I'm a different person than I was 14 years ago. I have far less of a temper. I'm more at peace with myself. I've experienced a re-conversion to Christianity. I'm a fair bit more philosophical and self-controlled in a whole lot of ways.
I consider myself to have failed her in three important respects. The first is that I did not fully understand or appreciate who she was before I offered to take her in. I have a habit of expecting people to be their best, even when they are not. I find that expecting good things from someone improves my interactions with them over expecting bad things. It leaves me open to more injury, but I've never seen value in treating someone as a criminal -- you can live in your past, or you can live in spite of it, and I for one am here to help you do the latter. But it would have been nice if I had taken the time to really understand what I was dealing with so that I didn't expect too much too soon.
The second way that I failed her had to do with my parenting "technique", which largely involved a lot of yelling. I wanted her to be a good kid, and I had good times with her when she was, but when she screwed up, my only "skill" was yelling about it in an attempt to scare it out of her. I realize now that I was an idiot, and I'm actually looking forward to the parenting classes the State requires me to take. I'm depending on them to teach me some actual parenting skills.
The third way that I failed her was in finally giving up on her. This is honestly the only one that I'm ashamed of. The first two can be chalked up to judgment, in the mode of the old saying that good judgment comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgment. I can't help that I didn't have experience then, and it's unrealistic for me to expect my past self to have had some. I've got some now, and I'm better for it.
But I'm still ashamed of the fact that I gave up on her. I'm sure I sent her a message that said she wasn't worth my time, and I can't imagine what that must have done. I also realize that it's entirely possible the foster family was the only place where she had any chance to "succeed", but it doesn't change the fact that I quit before I'd really exhausted every avenue. I've resolved to do no such thing this time around.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Marching Orders
I have been informed by the wife-unit that once we have kids, we WILL be going to Disney, no matter how much the idea makes my skin crawl. She even sent me this handy guide to Disney survival:
Disney Tips N Tricks
I knew there would be sacrifices, but this fills me with more dread than my colonoscopy.
Disney Tips N Tricks
I knew there would be sacrifices, but this fills me with more dread than my colonoscopy.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Parenting 101...
... as told by the writers of Cracked.com.
5 Ways to Avoid Your Terrible Parents' Mistakes
Seriously bad language. You've been warned.
It does, in its rather crude way, highlight a lot of what keeps me awake at night. It's not that my parents were terrible parents, it's that I fear making huge mistakes like terrible parents do. I'm probably not unique in this regard, but I've got a lot of time to think about it since I'm not simultaneously in the midst of trying to be a parent while worrying about the quality of parent that I am. It leaves a lot of cycles free for wondering just how badly I'm going to screw it up.
5 Ways to Avoid Your Terrible Parents' Mistakes
Seriously bad language. You've been warned.
It does, in its rather crude way, highlight a lot of what keeps me awake at night. It's not that my parents were terrible parents, it's that I fear making huge mistakes like terrible parents do. I'm probably not unique in this regard, but I've got a lot of time to think about it since I'm not simultaneously in the midst of trying to be a parent while worrying about the quality of parent that I am. It leaves a lot of cycles free for wondering just how badly I'm going to screw it up.
Monday, February 7, 2011
So, how about that weather?
Haven't said much this last week because I've been pretty busy with the weather-related stuff as well as work. I was reminded of how much I hated shoveling snow as a kid, when my dad would say we'd better have the driveway clear by the time he got home from work. Of course, Oklahoma's winters are far better in this regard than Ohio's, so I think my kids will be safe.
And this of course makes me want to think of other ways to toughen them up. I ran across the following video in my internet travels, and I thought it was very well done.
The author makes a compelling, if somewhat crude, point: kids need to be shown their inner toughness. I know of some people with kids in their 20's and 30's (and older) who still do everything for them, as though the children are still 9 or 10.
This brings me to an interesting dilemma... on the one hand, I'm going to be adopting kids, most likely out of a foster home, and most likely ones who have seen some tragedy in their short lives, whether from abuse or loss or whatever. On the other hand, I believe that parents have a responsibility to prepare their kids for adulthood: to prepare them to take complete responsibility for themselves and their own well-being. I think there's going to be a difficult challenge ahead of me, attempting to balance the nurturing that the kids will require with the hard lessons that must come in order to prepare kids for adulthood.
I have friends whose children are well into their teenage years, and these kids can't even begin to imagine cooking a meal for themselves or washing their own clothes. I share some of that... my parents never wanted me in the kitchen except to wash the dishes. My cooking skills were nonexistent when I left home, and if it weren't for my jobs at fast food restaurants I probably would have starved to death.
On the other hand, I started washing my own clothes as soon as I was old enough to drive. My parents didn't want me wrecking their washer & dryer, so they sent me to the laundromat. It boggles my mind that there are kids who don't know how to perform this simple task -- I still wash my own clothes today, and I've been married almost 18 years.
There are other things... what good is a teenager who can't mow the lawn? One guy told me he didn't have his kid do it because his kid didn't do it right, so he just does it himself. I can't understand the mentality that says it's somehow better to skip a teachable moment in the interests of just getting the thing done -- we're not talking about just a particular Saturday, we're talking about All Summer Long. In my mind, this is child abuse.
Kids need to be prepared for adulthood. There also needs to be room for them to be kids. I see it as a spectrum, from 0% responsibility at infancy to 100% responsibility at the time they leave home (ideally at or around 18 years of age). So when I encounter a 14-year-old who's only about 20% responsible for himself, it depresses me just as much as when I meet a similar 14-year-old who's had to become the parent of their younger siblings.
I don't begrudge kids their "useless plastic toys" or "stupid video games", as some folks do. I remember thinking that my Star Wars action figures were the most important things in the world, and I think it's better to let a kid grow out of that and develop other interests than to constantly berate them for not having more adult values. I think that will come naturally, perhaps at different speeds for different kids, as they become more and more responsible for themselves, and that's why parents need to work at getting the kids to be more and more responsible as they grow older.
Anyway, these are the sorts of things I think about when I think about what it means to be a dad.
And this of course makes me want to think of other ways to toughen them up. I ran across the following video in my internet travels, and I thought it was very well done.
The author makes a compelling, if somewhat crude, point: kids need to be shown their inner toughness. I know of some people with kids in their 20's and 30's (and older) who still do everything for them, as though the children are still 9 or 10.
This brings me to an interesting dilemma... on the one hand, I'm going to be adopting kids, most likely out of a foster home, and most likely ones who have seen some tragedy in their short lives, whether from abuse or loss or whatever. On the other hand, I believe that parents have a responsibility to prepare their kids for adulthood: to prepare them to take complete responsibility for themselves and their own well-being. I think there's going to be a difficult challenge ahead of me, attempting to balance the nurturing that the kids will require with the hard lessons that must come in order to prepare kids for adulthood.
I have friends whose children are well into their teenage years, and these kids can't even begin to imagine cooking a meal for themselves or washing their own clothes. I share some of that... my parents never wanted me in the kitchen except to wash the dishes. My cooking skills were nonexistent when I left home, and if it weren't for my jobs at fast food restaurants I probably would have starved to death.
On the other hand, I started washing my own clothes as soon as I was old enough to drive. My parents didn't want me wrecking their washer & dryer, so they sent me to the laundromat. It boggles my mind that there are kids who don't know how to perform this simple task -- I still wash my own clothes today, and I've been married almost 18 years.
There are other things... what good is a teenager who can't mow the lawn? One guy told me he didn't have his kid do it because his kid didn't do it right, so he just does it himself. I can't understand the mentality that says it's somehow better to skip a teachable moment in the interests of just getting the thing done -- we're not talking about just a particular Saturday, we're talking about All Summer Long. In my mind, this is child abuse.
Kids need to be prepared for adulthood. There also needs to be room for them to be kids. I see it as a spectrum, from 0% responsibility at infancy to 100% responsibility at the time they leave home (ideally at or around 18 years of age). So when I encounter a 14-year-old who's only about 20% responsible for himself, it depresses me just as much as when I meet a similar 14-year-old who's had to become the parent of their younger siblings.
I don't begrudge kids their "useless plastic toys" or "stupid video games", as some folks do. I remember thinking that my Star Wars action figures were the most important things in the world, and I think it's better to let a kid grow out of that and develop other interests than to constantly berate them for not having more adult values. I think that will come naturally, perhaps at different speeds for different kids, as they become more and more responsible for themselves, and that's why parents need to work at getting the kids to be more and more responsible as they grow older.
Anyway, these are the sorts of things I think about when I think about what it means to be a dad.
Monday, January 31, 2011
A moment's pause...
As it says over yonder, I'm a software engineer. That means I'm a technology guy. I've got computers out the yin-yang, and the whole house is wired for digital, baby. I have visions of raising a passel of tech-savvy kids who run circles around teachers who even dare try to teach them "programming".
But when I slow down to admit it to myself, there's an equal chance I might wind up with kids like this one.
Note to self: buy lock for office door.
But when I slow down to admit it to myself, there's an equal chance I might wind up with kids like this one.
We’d just returned from the pool and I expected to see Dylan futzing around with one of his plastic horses, content with the knowledge that his parents had provided him with a quality amount of entertainment this afternoon. Instead, I observed him standing on tiptoe in the office, carefully balancing my laptop on its side before allowing it to crash back down onto the desk.
Thunk.
Note to self: buy lock for office door.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)