The Santa "Club"

I'm not talking membership, I'm talking that thing Fred Flintstone used to swing -- only invisible. The "club" parents use to reinforce their points. The thing they hold over their kids. That club.

We take small children barely comfortable with some close friends or relatives, dress them in their cutest outfits drag them to the mall and force them on the lap of a fake fat guy they've never even met. He says words not common in their everyday vocabulary like "Ho ho". At the same time educators and community volunteers are taught never to touch children, much less allow them on their laps. Side-hugs only people. Hello background checks. Yet in the name of that picture with Santa, we abandon all security measures and force a terrified toddler to climb on this stranger's lap and pretend it's okay. Teenage girls costumed as elves stand nearby jingling bells and waving feathers in order to distract the tears and catch that great photo op between frightened sobs. You can get your precious photo in about a minute and turn it into a coffee cup or t-shirt. If you are lucky, a proud mother with matching kid outfits will be sneering nearby because her darlings aren't afraid of strangers. Ooops. I mean Santa.

The crowning glory is when mall Santa looks down at the poor kid and then asks if they have "been good". Good? You know. Perfectly compliant. Doing everything parents want without so much as a blink. We all know what will happen if a child has not been "good" all year. It's terrible. Ever met someone who actually received a lump of coal? Most kids - even underprivileged ones - receive actual presents "from Santa".

Parents can add to their threats about "telling Santa" with the Elf on the Shelf. Introduced just a few years ago, this cute doll can be dressed as a girl or boy elf. Parents hide it around the house every night and kids wake up to see what hi-jinx Elfie has been into overnight. Most important: Elf reports in to Santa about kid behavior. So now there are two ways Santa can know everything.

At the risk of sounding like a scrooge, I submit it's all in the name of bribing children to "behave" and thus earn a present. It has nothing to do with actually impacting lifelong character.

Do we really want our kids doing things just to get a goodie? They aren't dogs. Every time I hear about a school teacher, piano instructor, Sunday School class or community program that rewards kids with pieces of candy, I cringe. If we teach our kids to perform for the sake of the reward without also teaching the moral equivalent, we have failed.

Yes, failed. That means your kids will do the "right thing" only for the goodie. Woof. Once the goodies are gone or your back is turned, they will be lost. Lost.

Is that what you want - a kid who looks good on the outside in front of your audience only when rewarded? Or, one that knows the difference and makes good choices on their own even when you aren't there to toss out a Hershey's Kiss?

How about for next year, parents employ Santa or Elf for fun and actually teach what it means to really "behave" and why? Resist the urge to use anything as a good behavior club. Those are empty threats anyway. Teach kids that presents are gifts, not rewards.Teach kids that sometimes we do things without expecting anything in return. That one sure is a head turner. Doing something just to do it? And actually trying to be good at it? Woa.

If we don't stop tossing out the rewards without substance, we'll deliver another  generation of young adults missing a moral compass only thinking about what subjectively adds to their lives. For more information on this, Netflix one of the versions of Stepford Wives or any other flick where things and prestige are more valued than character. Wait. You can just go out your front door, it's America without core values now.

Lunch With a Drill Sergeant

It's just a couple days before Christmas and I stopped to pick up some stocking stuffferes and meet a friend for a mocha. Thank you, Target for having Starbucks. I am not a fan of having to share the cafe with all the pizza from the food area but this will do in a pinch.

I picked a table off to the side and manoevered my cart through empty, salty tables. Just as I sat down, five little kids clad in warm winter wear clamored their way near my table. "Let's get this one!" cried the oldest (all of maybe seven). The others followed his lead, dragging chairs and settling in behind me til the dad appeared.

Apparently they are waiting for some hot food to be prepared to complete the meal and he only brought their sodas. "Don't throw it on the floor!" Scolded dad.

Scuffling chair scraping.

"I spilled my pop. I spilled my pop. I spilled my pop." Chirped a little one while dad was giving seating directions.

"Where is our food???" "We just ordered, they're making it."

"Sit on your butt."

"Butt, butt."

"Stop it."

"Take your jacket off."

"Stop it."

"You eat your sauce."

"Don't touch."

"Chew it."

"Be nice."

When dad left them again presumabley to get the food, an arguement erupted as the same brother told to be nice began ordering a little sister to "get off my world" over and over. "No! No!"shrieked little sister as she clenched a handheld game. "Get OFF my world!"

Dad came back and began to negotiate. "Stop talking or I'll put you bed. How bout this? She's not in your world." His was not confident and by his tone you could tell he cajoled often. When the kids disagreed with his world-deal, he began, "honey, honey" trying to quell emotions.

The rest of their meal was accompanied by kid whines and more parental pleads.

Across the seating area at the counter in front of me I hear:

"I don't know, I just know I didn't do it." Giggled another child sitting next to her father.  He only had three kids with him and was laid-back and grinning. I watched him tenderly sweep hair off the face of one of his girls and tell them what they were going to go get mom after this. He followed by asking open questions that all three piped up to answer. They were conversing. Not once did he 'have' to tell his wigglers to do a thing. Yes they were spinning on the stools as they ate, but wouldn't you if you were eight? They statyed put and were fully engaged with their father.

Okay, so the gang of five had more little people but this illustrates two parenting extremes. (Right next to my quiet table.) One parent reacted and lacked authority in his kids' eyes. The other parent guided the activity and had full authority. His used his position confidently but loosely. The other one merely threw out commands hoping they'd stick. The kids at his table were not having fun, they were merely being herded. The other kids were giggling and enjoying some time with dad.

Two fathers. Two extremes. Which one's kids are going to have a fond memory about the day they went Christmas shopping with dad and stopped for lunch?

Passing On Fear

Am I over-sharing if I tell you that my favorite guilty pleasure on television is the reality show Giuliana and Bill? When it comes on, my husband groans and leaves the room, so now I record it and watch it later. Giuliana Rancic is very open about her phobias in her TV show also featuring hubby Bill and miracle baby Duke. Now that they are parents, I get a kick out of the lengths they will earnestly explore in order to parent their son.

The other night, Giuliana had a beauty pageant to host, so Bill flew to Lake Michigan with the baby to teach him not to be afraid of the water like his mother. He bundled the approximate 9-month-old into a water safety suit, climbed into a giant inner tub and held him tightly while a speed boat pulled them around. When Giuliana joined them, they went to the top of a sky scraper and walked to the edge of the balcony. The trouble was, the floor became glass so it looked like you were walking over nothing. Bill and the Baby did just fine, but Giuliana couldn't do it. She kept saying things like, "Baby Duke, you're not gonna be afraid like Mommy, right?"

I think parents can pass on fears by how they address them or what they demonstrate to their kids. Announcing it like Giuliana did won't work. All that did was call attention to it. The good news is that at this age, Duke probably didn't know what mom was saying - but I bet he could pick up her vibe of anxiety.

Rather than pass on my fears, I would rather my kids get some of their own. In a perfect world, it would be great if no one was crippled by any fears and just had those healthy ones like don't stick your hand on the stove. However, I understand Giuliana's fear of heights full well. The difference is that instead of showing it to my kids, I just stepped aside and let Granda take them up to the top or let Dad take them on the world's tallest roller coaster. I let them know I wasn't comfortable but urged them to have fun. Now it is the family inside joke. Fine with me, I'm still waiting by the ground floor exit.

Being raised by a mother who was afraid of her own shadow was tough. She expected me not to "step on a crack" or not "walk under a ladder" right along with her. When I was seven, I accidentally broke a small mirror. "Oh no," she solemnly warned me, "Now you're going to have seven years of bad luck!" And while she never brought that up again, I remember thinking that the "bad" things that happened were a result of that mirror and counting the years until I was 14. And wouldn't you know, I broke another mirror then.

Parents are the front-line influencers of our children for the first dozen years, until peers creep in and seem to take over our role for awhile. We have to remember it is much less what we say than what we display. My mom never said she was afraid of small spaces, she just screeched and clasped me in elevators. She never said she was afraid of fire, she just counted all the stove burners that were shut off before we left the house. While all of this was happening, I thought it was normal. After all, this was my mom and my family.

It took time to see that her anxiety was not like other moms, and by the time I was in my mid-teens, would gently tease her. But she took her fears seriously and gave them a place to live inside her. What she unintentionally taught was that "something bad was going to happen". Remember, she never said it, she just lived it. Of course her own childhood had a great deal to do with it - I never knew those details until I was an adult.

There are reasons why someone can become anxious, but they don't have to become the excuse. And we don't have to use it as permission to stay that way. We can work through anxiety and fear with good counseling. We don't have to be governed by it. And that's why I tried not to give too much attention to my fear of heights in front of my kids. Neither one of them have developed that fear. I just don't like being on the edge of a drop-off, that's all.

So to Giuliana, I say hats off to you for acknowledging your fears and wanting to deal with them. Just don't involve your baby. While he is learning life, don't call attention to your angst and to the best of your ability, let him grow without passing on a mantle too heavy and burdensome. So, get ready for when he climbs to the top of the jungle gym in about six months!

Pick Your Expert Carefully

One of the cable news networks was doing a piece about a mom who contacted the FCC because ABC ran an ad for one of their steamy nighttime shows during Good Morning America. She was eating breakfast with her 8-year-old son when the ad appeared - a naked man and woman rather busy in bed. She thought this had no place being aired when young children could see it.

So the host brought in three people to discuss this. One was a parenting blogger, one was a a child psychologist and family therapist and the other was a "parenting expert". The first two descriptions pretty much tell me about their qualifications, but the third one? We were not told what made that woman an "expert". But she does have a website.

Let me tell you what the Expert said. Unlike her fellow panelists, she thought it was perfectly fine for a child to see nudity any time of the day or night. After all, they were doing what their parents do anyway and other cultures let their children see things like this.

When the others protested saying they did not want images thrust upon their children that they could not control or limit, the Expert came back saying that violence was far worse than that. Then she shared statistics about media violence. The two others brought the conversation back on topic. The Psychologist  said that developmentally a child that age is not ready for images about the body in that manner, and that viewing them could even be frightening. The Blogger said we cannot take back images once our children see them.

The Expert insisted that there were far worse things than this and that it was perfectly fine.

This interaction demonstrates the often repeated saying that there is a statistic to back up everything - any which way. But we can be smarter than that. We don't need to go looking for some fact to back up what we think. We can think what we do, period. Some times, we might be the only one in the crowd taking a stand. I sure know what that feels like. Other times, we may have some company. Either way, we are standing up for what we believe is in the best interest of our children.

Sometimes with further information, we may change our minds. I've done that. A fierce "no" has become an "okay" instead. When that is the case, I explain why I updated my thinking. Then my children learn that I am learning, too. The same is true when I have had to revoke a permission. "I know we had told you that it would be okay to ______, but here is some information that now has me concerned:________."  All is presented calmly and clearly. They know I am placing their best interests first.

The one thing I won't do is do what an expert says just because they say it. I evaluate it within the framework established for my family and check their philosophy. Sometimes I completely disagree with a philosophy but there is a really good nugget I can use. So I use the nugget.

But this time, there wasn't anything I could use from that expert. In my humble opinion, it is not society's job to decide when and what my child sees or experiences. That's my job.

P.S. The show in the ad is described by ABC as "more than just your normal story of infidelity".