What Do You Want to Be?

Remember Vanilla Ice? The most successful rapper in the 90's? "Ice, ice baby..."

Vanilla Ice, AKA Rob did not disappear. In addition to his musical talent, he developed other skills and is now so good at house reno, he has a show on HGTV. He drives a Rolls, has tattoos covering most of his body, continues to perform but has also developed skills in home renovation. He his also a doting father. I respect this man.

He is my current role model for coaching kids on "what to be" when they grow up.

Actually, I hate it when people ask children this question! Why pin them down? Statistically, they will have at least five different careers.

What if we ask them what they would like to do first? That's how I guided our girl in her college and course selection. What if we encouraged our kids to develop a hobby that could also become a source of income, not to mention pleasure? (I sure wish I had learned to do something like Rob has done.) What if up front, we gave our kids loving permission to explore their options to contribute rather than pin them down to one thing?

And regarding that one big thing, even someone like Vanilla Ice did not invest his entire entity there. He kept growing and learning. How fun is that? See why he inspires me? He hasn't stopped, and I haven't either. I just don't have a TV show...

Helicopter Parents

Our honorary daughter's (so close she’s like our own) husband used to fly Marine One for a recent president. He was the guy at the helm to fly the president in the fancy-dan helicopter wherever and whenever he was asked.

This man is brave, well-trained, responsible and honorable. He respects authority and is so trustworthy the leader of the free world placed his life in his hands. Talk about the ultimate trust! (I don’t know if I can even trust someone standing behind me to catch me, and all that would mean is I land on the floor a few inches lower.) Honorary Girl’s husband displays the character of one so well-equipped he has now gone on to literally train another nation's military in fancy-dan helicopter maintenance.

When we talk about helicopter parents, it refers to parents who hover over their children for any and every reason. It may be the selection of a sock or outfit, it may be to set up their homework for them or burrow through their backpacks. It may be to coach them in their sport, even if they actually have a coach. It could be to intervene with their friendships or fill out a job application... or my personal favorite; drive an 11th grader’s forgotten lunch to school.

Characteristics of a helicopter parent include anxiety, perfectionism and most telling is how easily interruptible they are by their children. Legitimate emergencies aside, if you do not feel compelled to immediately take cell calls during a coffee date with a friend (or make them) or stop adult conversation in person to turn and pay attention instead to your offspring tugging at your sleeve, you are probably not a helicopter parent. If you do not have the need to insist your children perform precisely the way you insist in negotiable areas, you are probably not a helicopter parent. If you can go about your day without stress while knowing full well your child did not brush their hair (or teeth), you are probably not a helicopter parent. If you can go to sleep at night even if your child wore his clothes to bed, you are probably not a helicopter parent. If you do not do your child's homework or make excuses for them, you are not a helicopter parent.

If Honorary Girl’s hubby had been hovered over while growing up, he could literally not have become man enough, brave enough or confident enough to fly the leader of the free world around in a real helicopter.

Remember, real helicopters only hover when they are landing and taking off. Otherwise they are on a designated mission. If all they did was hover, they wouldn’t go anywhere. They’d just kick up a lot of dust.

If all we did as parents is hover, we are the ones who kick up a lot of dust. Our children won’t really go anywhere, either. They will remain dependent upon us for all their decisions. We will have fostered self-doubt and cancelled out their chance to sit at the helm of Marine One. I choose the brave one who thinks for himself and can be trusted to the nth degree!

Anger Management

Just the other day, while driving and making a legal right turn onto a 2-lane road, a woman made a U-turn from the opposite direction, cutting across the two lanes in order to be in front of me. This all happened rather quickly and I remember her angry face yelling at me from within the confines of her vehicle. Not only did she yell and glare, just as soon as she cut across the lanes, she swerved into a bank entrance. Bam! I'm glad I was awake or else.

I blinked and thought "Woa, she's one angry person" and continued on the way to my hair appointment.

Ever since this happened, I've been thinking about anger and the damage it can do when adults act out in front of kids. But what about when kids are mad? How can we help them work through it in a healthy way?

When my girl was 8, I married my current (and last) husband. He did things foreign to her like read with her, ask about homework, insist on seat belts and respecting the family by doing chores. Her birth father had been completely detached. She had never experienced what a father's hands-on care was like. After a few months, she was acting out in uncharacteristic ways.

So one Sunday, the three of us had a pow-wow. We sat around the dining room table, blew up a balloon and had her draw her birth-father's face on it. Then we lovingly asked her if she was mad at him. Yes. Since he had died, she could no longer speak to him, so we told her she could speak to the balloon as if it was him. Choking back tears, she yelled and stammered at the man who had so let her down. How could he have cared so little? We were all wiping away tears. After she felt she got it all out, we had a great discussion and release time. We closed with prayer and she got to pop the balloon.

Don't ask me where I got that idea, I know. It had to be from God. This next idea came from a dear assistant when our 5-year old son was so angry that his favorite friend was moving away he was acting out all over the place.

My assistant - a devoted grandmama - gave me the perfect idea for our active boy! She told me to take him to the lake and encourage him to pick up rocks and as he tossed them into the lake, yell out what part of his anger that represented.

So, off we went to the lake. Before we started, I told him we knew how upset he was and that by throwing rocks, he could give his hurt and anger to God. Each time he picked one up, he told me what it was for and then hurled it into the lake. We stayed there throwing rocks until he had nothing more to say and just wanted to throw rocks, period.

With both of these situations, we sat and prayed. We thanked God for caring about thoughts and feelings, and for taking away what hurts.

Kids are concrete thinkers, and this was a great way for them to deal with their emotions in a literal way. Both times, I cried with them, held them and when we were done, told them how brave they were and how much God loved them. Both times, that anger was truly gone.

Sometimes a counselor is necessary, sometimes we just need to enter their world and offer assistance.

Through the Eyes of a Child

A few weeks ago, I walked into the Toddler class one Sunday to greet everyone, as I usually do. One of the sweetest little girls held up her sandals and eagerly showed me her treasure. The look on her face was truly priceless. I found out from her mother that she was excited to be wearing her "new shoes" on such a surprisingly warm late winter day. Additionally, I learned that in daycare, children must wear closed-toed shoes and socks. These sandals were a big deal in this toddler's life. Seeing her rejoice in the simplest thing just made my day.

When I was in college, I had a part-time job at a home for mentally challenged men and women. There, I learned to erase the minutiae of life's angst from an 18-year-old's mind and appreciate their lives. Everything was scheduled. Monthly haircuts. Weekly baths. Daily meals. Bi-monthly bus rides. Semi-annual shots. Nothing "special", yet I saw each resident look forward to the routine in their lives and value seemingly mundane activities with utter joy. These precious people taught me to appreciate the simplest details in my life. I still smile fondly remembering gleeful applause at "haircut day".

Some of my most heart-felt memories with my kids when they were younger was the excitement to wear a new pair of rain boots (my girl) or use their very own umbrella (my son... try that while living in sunny California!) There was also that new coat or lunchbox, a special field trip and of course the all-important Sharing Day.

These things were all more important to them than the big trips or gifts. Details that could so easily be looked over. Unless we look through the bright and eager eyes of a child.

Extreme Kid Pampering

One day when I turned on the TV for whatever reason it was set to the “Tyra Banks Show.” Don’t know how or why but before I could click over to an “Everybody Loves Ray” rerun, I learned that her topic was Americans pampering their pre-teens to the tune of 20 million a year!

We’re talking facials, massages, pedi’s and mani’s. There are even chains of stores now marketing to parents who want “the best” for their children! Transfixed, I watched in dismay as Tyra Banks interviewed half a dozen proud parents for this episode. Some actually spent over $80K/year on pampering in order to keep their kids “happy”! The pampering began as early as age 2 and these groomed kids used their limited vocabularies to state how much they liked going to the kid spa because it was “fun” and “nice”.

ACK!

Producing a happy child was the goal for each parent. A delighted and well-manicured child sat next to the bragging parent bobbing their head in agreement that they wanted to look good. No child was over the age of 11. All were glad to be on TV.

Did I mention how many middle class annual incomes these well to do families wasted in the interest of giving their children the “physical advantage” of appearance?? One mother bragged that she would not let her 6 year old out of the house with chipped nail polish b/c it would reflect her poor parenting. She even taught her 9 year old son to deserve massages and opened her own kiddie spa because she saw the need.

ACK AGAIN!

What has happened to instilling value in what our children contribute to society? And in these economic times, to see so many adults cavalierly spending more that our family earns just so the kids look and feel good is beyond me.

When these pampered kids reach adult land, will they ever own their own behaviors? Will they ever care about the needs of others beyond self?

This is a perfect example of the immense responsibility a parent has to lay a foundation that will impact multitudes of generations.

Please don’t focus on the fleeting externals…

Teaching Children to Pray

One of the most important things we can do as adults or youth investing in the lives of children is to teach them how to pray. We are not always with them, as much as we think we are, or that they are being properly supervised. We certainly do not know how they are processing an experience. If we can teach them to talk and listen to God, they will be able to receive peace and comfort precisely when they need it.

Growing up, we recited a generationally mutilated Norwegian prayer before meals. It had gotten so mispronounced by my ancestors that by the time I was in college and some Norwegian exchange students heard us “pray”, they looked blankly at us. We had not learned to thank God for his provision and truly mean it.

On Sharing Day in Kindergarten, I brought my big teddy bear. He became my tearful comfort on the bus ride home when I failed to get off at my stop and spent hours cowering in the bus thinking I would never see my family again. How wonderful if I had already understood that I could truly talk to God and share my fears?

A few years ago I was encouraging an adult relative to pray about something. He scoffed that he didn’t bother God with small stuff. I told him I even prayed for new underwear.

The picture above is used by permission from the four Kindergarten families. The Sunday School teacher had just asked the class to pray. Look at the different responses. Just before I took the picture, the boy lifting his shirt had briefly bowed his head and then kept on moving. Four different boys, four different reactions, four different prayers – each one as valuable as the next. That’s why I treasure this picture.

We are all so different, and each one of us is cherished by God as if we were his one and only child. Our temperaments and characters matter. Our thoughts and feelings matter. When I teach children to pray, I try to communicate this. There is no one “correct” way to pray. I was once asked by a fellow Bible study participant if the prayers I prayed while driving counted – because I could not shut my eyes.

Prayer is simply talking and listening to God. For young children, they start by learning to talk. They address God, say something, then end it. I keep it very short. “Dear God, thank you for the rain, amen.” “Dear God, please help my brother, amen.” “Dear God, I love you, amen.” Amen simply means “so be it”. So kids could actually say “Dear God, thank you for loving us, so be it.”

A great thing to teach kids about praying is to pray God’s Word right back to him. That way they learn to memorize Bible verses. They can say these verses any time they want. I taught my girl to memorize verses beginning at the age of two. She could learn them faster than me! I also taught her what they meant, so she was not merely reciting words. During a traumatic divorce and under great fear while spending court-ordered time with her birth father, she recited Psalm 37:4 over and over one night until she fell asleep.

As our kids grow, they can learn the listening part of prayer. How it takes many forms. Sometimes all I can say is “God help”. They can learn to sing, write or dance their prayers and that it is all called Worship. They can learn how important it is to pray for others we don’t even know. (That will be another blog.) But for now, if they can learn some simple thank-yous and requests, they are on their way.

By modeling simple prayer, our children can learn that prayer is one way we connect with God. It is not about us. It is not about the longest words or the poetic voice. It is not a lecture. It is between us and God. It can be out loud. It can be silent. There is nothing God doesn’t want to hear about from us. If he loves every hair on our head, he cares about our underwear, too.

So be it.

Tears For Their Choices

Have you ever cried about the choices your child has made? When they are little, it can be when they hit another kid, were rude to an adult or stole from the grocery store. (Both mine were guilty of this before age 4.)

That’s not what I’m talking about today. I’m talking beyond the snotty junior high friend, the rebellious attitude that lasted semesters, and family disrespect.

I’m talking about the reality that your legal adult has appeared to let all your earnest teaching roll off their back like a duck. Everything you have sacrificed and done appears to make no difference in their life choices. Now it truly matters who they befriend and what they put into their minds and bodies and they are doing most of it where you can’t see, much less supervise.

It’s like your hands are tied as you silently scream in horror that the baby you once held in your arms and so carefully parented all this time is disappearing into someone you do not recognize… much less approve of… or even like.

Why don’t they seem to care about their family? Why do their friends plan for college or get jobs and your child is content with part time success? Don’t they notice the glaring gap between NASA and McDonalds? And bleep-it why don’t they see how good they’ve had it and how much they are turning away from?

Certain milestones should be occasions for celebration, but the balloons might look slightly deflated depending on what it took emotionally for you pull that off.

If this resonates with you, you probably know more than most parents how precious and fleeting your years of influence truly are. And, just because all the other kids look like they are following a decent life plan doesn’t mean they will continue, or even know what they are doing. It just looks good and more importantly, it just isn’t what your child is choosing.

Right now I am aching for a family who is launching their young adult into his first apartment – and not for happy reasons. Their child crossed the final line and was told to live somewhere else. I applaud their tough decision – way more difficult that selling a car out from under them! These parents honored their rules and words, and loved their kid enough to be firm in a big way.

I believe one day he will come to appreciate their care and investment, and respect them. I have seen others who tumble into adulthood and shake all the wrinkles out a few years later. I pray that this is another one like that, and in the meantime – that the parents have peace.

My Goal is NOT to Have Happy Kids

What??!

Seriously, I really don't care if my kids are "happy". In fact there is not one thing I have done with the intention to "make them happy."

Camps, sports, movies, concerts, gifts, trips, haircuts, laundry... none of this has ever been done to make my children happy. Everything I have done and continue to do has been to create experiences or provide care so that they can continue to develop their own personalities. When boundaries have been necessary to implement (aka consequences), their "happiness" was not an issue. The issue was to provide guidelines so that our kids would bump their noses into things and learn from experience.

If I lived to make my kids happy, I would be chasing my tail and attempting to please them. Even ask their permission! I have personal experience with parents asking their children if they really wanted to go to their grandparent's 60th wedding anniversary. Or, how about this one: bailing their kid out of jail for drunken driving and not being disappointed! (More on this in a dedicated blog later.)

Do we really need to see a smile every second of every day? Does a smile signify happiness, anyway? Wouldn't it be more significant to provide loving guidance and patiently delivered consequences as our kids grow? And... shouldn't our kids learn how true "happiness" is an internal choice after all? And... for sure that their moods do not control the family vibe?

Today in the church toddler room, a sweetheart was sobbing for her parents. She was just 23 months old. We let kids cry for 10 minutes before getting a parent, and she was on minute 7. It was time to read the story to the class and she was still crying. I said "Honey, we are going to listen to the story right now, so we need you to stop crying. When the story is over, you can go back to crying if you like, but right now it is story time." She paused, walked over and listened to the story and never did resume her crying.

Did I care that she was happy? No. Did I care that she could comfort herself? Yes. I am so glad we did not reach the 10 minute rule because she was not "happy" based on our responses. She began to learn that her mood was managed from within, while being kept safe by encouraging adults.

"You Need to Clean Your Room"

If you are like me, when your baby is born you color-coordinate, style and arrange every detail in their room. You spend hours evaluating the shade of a possible color purchase and make sure that everything is model-home appealing. Right down to placing great-aunt so & so's tea cups on a shelf. Toys are not set on shelves, they are displayed as if ready to be photographed. Everything looks wonderful!

Yep, that works for a few years...

Until you listen to your kids' ideas and they begin to express themselves, not merely echo your direction.

I'm glad the room in this picture was not a permanent fixture in our home until our girl was in 10th grade. Before that, she had maintained our standards of cleanliness with much angst on all our parts. I had read parenting books, listened to talk radio gurus and friends. All had their opinion regarding how a child's room should be kept.

There was the "you do not go anywhere until your room is cleaned up by noon on Saturday" philosophy. That's when I used to wake up early and leave the house - and my husband - to monitor her cleaning process. It was agony before, during and after and we got a clean room for the afternoon.

There was the "you don't get a door on your room because it is such a slop pile" philosophy. We removed the door to her room and thought that would do it. After all, she had a toddler brother who would now have access to her treasures, including her beloved American Girl dolls. This did not do it, either.

There were many more attempts at "encouraging" room maintenance well before 10th grade. Her allowance was even tied into room condition, but that's another topic. We did sticker charts, laminated signs and white glove inspections to no avail.

So... when I took this picture, I was smiling. Clean clothes were blended with dirty ones strewn all over the floor. Dresser drawers and closet doors were ajar. Clutter and water bottles (not shown) were everywhere. And why make the bed? It certainly was not a room I could find solitude in, much less fall asleep. But guess who comfortably plopped on her messy bed, kicked off a towel or other item and snuggled up to do her homework?

Why could I smile? I had finally stopped listening to other people's "should list" and relaxed my colon. So what if my girl kept her room so messy? That was our only issue with her. If a crappy room was the worst thing she did, so be it. I decided to save my nagging breath in spite of frowns from friends, some of whom did not even have children. We discovered this new magical rule called "keep your door shut". It worked perfectly! We didn't see it and the rest of the house was "Zen". A small price to pay for a kid who grew up to be a great woman who manages her own life, huh?

Not Invited

Have you ever been standing next to an acquaintance chatting when someone walks up and starts talking about the thing they are going to do and you realize you are not invited? Either that, or they start talking about the other thing from last night and once again you realize you weren't there...because you weren't invited?

Most schools have a wonderful policy about sending birthday party invitations to school. They tell you that unless everyone is invited, please do not use the classroom as a distribution center. Too bad there is no way to enforce this!

When our son was in kindergarten, one mid-December day he spent the entire ride home wondering why he saw Bobby passing out party invitations to most of the boys in class, just not him. Mind you, at this point we were dealing with a boatload of his ADHD stuff. That being said, our son was kind hearted and well meaning. Just not understood well outside our family at the time.

As a fierce Mommie, hearing that our son had been hurt stabbed my heart. How could another parent be so callous? These are Kindergarteners! As our son asked and chatted as much as a child that age could do, I realized how much he had been hurt. He usually cared more about the snack in the car or listening to his music. I had to pay attention, and I did.

Carefully, I let our boy know that what happened was not fair. It was sad that Bobby's parents sent the invitations to school where uninvited kids could see them being passed out. The rule was that you only did that if everyone was included. Otherwise you mailed them out. Why wasn't he included? We don't know, but it is hurtful. I told him I was sorry that he wasn't invited, especially because he thought the birthday boy was his friend.

After a few more "reflective commiserations", I asked what he would do if he was having a party.

"I'd invite everyone who wasn't invited to the other party," came his stoic reply.