Parenting: GUILT TRIPS

Power struggles between teenagers and their parents take many forms. My children knew that the "when" of performing family responsibilities was negotiable but that the "what" and "why" were relatively fixed. Until adolescence they were generally very co-operative. At that point, my son's bid  for autonomy took the form of long, creative arguments about the rationality of my leadership and the necessity for his capitulation vis-a-vis family responsibilities. He wanted to insist on "win-win" solutions so was usually amenable to compromise, although I was often characterized as a social dinosaur. (More about those interesting encounters later in a separate post.)

My daughter was a cheerful, helpful child until she also reached that developmental stage of "addled essence" when the underlying issue of her autonomy became more important than the overt task at hand. On those occasions what she wanted was to have her way, be in charge of her life. She wanted to win. That perhaps subconscious want was probably intensified as a result of years of being under her older brother's thumb as well as mine. She was conflicted, however, because she was basically a wise, rational, loving and obedient human being who hated conflict and emotional confrontations.

Her last stand, if I asked her to do one of her chores or help me around the house when she wanted to go out with her friends (a standing preference) and she felt the negotiation was not going her way, was to accuse me of trying to send her on guilt trips. Knowing that I tried to be a reasonable, flexible parent and as fair as possible, she would try to use that against me to make me feel guilty by blaming me for the guilt she felt for being defiant rather than reasonable and not following her own higher instincts of parental respect and pulling her weight at home. She was clearly bidding for at least a pyrrhic victory in the end by implying that I was being devious and unfair - a bad parent. I understood her struggles, but did not accept responsibility for the pain her conscience was giving her. 

Parenting: SOCK THERAPY

My son came home late one day during his first year in high school, paced around the kitchen and started to rant. 

“The Principal really ticked me off! He is so unfair! “ When he sat down in a chair and toed off his shoes he saw his toe poking out of a hole in his sock. He first pulled the hole to cover his toe, but as his rant continued, he began picking and pulling at the hole. 

“I was trying to break up a fight (rip goes the sock) and got sent to the office (rip, riip) with the guys who were fighting (rip) and I got blamed (rip, rip, rip) and we weren’t allowed to explain (two-handed RIIIIP) and I had to apologize (rip, RIIIIIIP) and serve detention (rip, rip, rip, rip), and I’m so mad I want to break something! (RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPP)”

Parenting: THAT TONE OF VOICE

On one of the calls my son made from college, I was a bit late in picking up the phone and, unbeknownst to either of us, the upstairs answering machine recorded the whole conversation. We chatted amiably about this and that and then I remembered that I had sent him vehicle registration papers that he needed to fill out and return by a certain date. As I told him this news, he said, “There you go again with that tone of voice, Mom,” a frequent complaint. And I protested as usual, “What tone of voice?” “That 'gotta make sure my kid handles this' parent tone of voice that says you don't trust me.” 

I had no idea what he was talking about. I thought I was just emphasizing something important. I did think of him as responsible and thought I was just giving him a reminder.

As I was getting into bed that night, I saw the message machine blinking so I pressed the play button. I smiled, happily reliving our conversation until the part about the vehicle registration when there it was – “that tone of voice.” It did indeed sound like I did not trust him to do the job.

About Me: A MATTER OF MORELS

When I would explain to my 16 or 17 year old “children” something I thought they must do, or why I thought things “needed” to be done my way, my son would hear me out and then say, “Got it covered, Mom.” or “Don't worry, Mom, you raised me right, and now I get to decide this one.” or “Gotta trust your parenting, Mom.” When her turn came three years later, my daughter would say: “Mom, do I need to hear this?” or “I'm sorry you’re still having a problem on this, Mom, but I'm not worried about it, so you don't have to be either.” or “It’s just not my problem, Mom. Good luck working it out.”

I’d have been grounded for weeks had I addressed my parents in that manner! But my kids weren't being insolent. These things were said with quiet self-confidence and sincere, sometimes amused compassion and tolerance for the difficulty I was experiencing in letting go of my “parental entitlement” to meet their childhood “need for guidance." Wasn’t it my privilege and my responsibility to nurture them with advice? Mothering was a role I enjoyed and that I knew needed to be phased out at some point, but my kids were understandably more aware of the step by step process than I. They were usually gentle with me, but firm. We all knew I still had ultimate veto power but because they were responsible kids I seldom felt the need to use it.

Parenting: UNTYING APRON STRINGS

Instead of actually “cutting the apron strings,” my kids gently and firmly, even lovingly, helped me untie them. With love and good humor, they persistently peeled my single-parent mothering off their backs. For about three years each, they worked on developing new relationships with me. I did my best to reciprocate. Having insisted on and modeled mutual respect since small kid days, I was still able to put my foot down on occasions when I felt that the price of their bid for self-determination was too high, but only after very thorough discussions. If I regressed into intrusive “parental entitlements," they were sure to remind me that pulling rank was not how we did things..

One of our more difficult win-win solutions came the first year my daughter had her license. She wanted to drive some friends to a New Year’s Eve Party in my car. She was an excellent driver, a very responsible person, no highways would be involved, and she promised to have only two beers in the four hours she'd be there. I was concerned that she would be distracted by rowdy, drunken friends or hit by someone else on this night of drinking. I was scared silly for her safety and told her why. She heard and understood my concern and we worked on it together, both explicitly aware that my trust in her honesty and good judgement was the bedrock for her growing freedoms.

The Kitchen Sink: CRUSTY SAYINGS

With apologies to whomever may have said this before the source cited:

It takes a child to make a man out of a boy. P.H.Harrison,Jr. 

Crusty Sayings collected by Abby Freeborn is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. For permission to use or to correct a source contact randmxcentric@gmail.com

Parenting: POOR PARENTING CAN TEACH GOOD PARENTING

As I was growing up there was one thing my parents tried to practice with me that I vowed never to do to my kids. Raised by authoritarian parents themselves in the early 1900s, they felt entitled to immediate, unquestioning obedience “because I'm your mother,” or “Because I said so,” or “ No back-talk from you, young lady!”  When I was caught smoking at age 14, my chain-smoking father chastised me:”Do as I say, not as I do,” and he meant it. Hmmmm - what’s a kid learn from that?

I have always had a strong need to understand and personalize what I am expected to do and why. This enables me to take full responsibility for my actions. I felt these parental pronouncements to be very disrespectful so they provoked more questions and usually led to arguments, sometimes punishments.

Parenting: SIX-YEAR-OLD WISDOM

Every night I would spend 15 minutes sitting in the dark bedroom with one child while my husband sat with the other child for quiet “debriefing” time before going to sleep. Then we would switch rooms. This was our solution to the incessant calls for water, the bathroom, and other attention-getters after we had put them to bed.

One night my six year old daughter asked me,”Do you like how you are?”
“Well...yes, I do. Why do you ask?”
“And does Daddy like how he is?” She was almost asleep.
“I think so, sure.” Catching on, I asked, “Do you like how you are?”
“Uh-huh,” she yawned, “everybody has to like how they are. Megan and Sarah won't share their toys with me.”
“Oh, what seems to be the problem?”
“I think they don't like how they are. G'night, Mom.”

My six year old daughter had discovered the root of self-confidence. 

Six-Year-Old Wisdom by Abby Freeborn is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. For permission to use contact randmxcentric@gmail.com

Parenting: THE THREE Rs

When I was struggling through my teen rebellions with authoritarian parents there were certain things I vowed never to say to my kids. When we would have our power struggles, my parents both had a low tolerance for “back talk.” I wanted to have what I considered reasoned negotiations, but after the third exchange I would hear, “Because I say so.”  “Because I am your mother.” “I’m the parent, and what I say goes.” “Say one more thing and you’re grounded.”  ARRRRRRGH! The frustration when they would pull rank! I promised myself that I would not serve that gritty dish to my children. And I didn’t.