Parenting in Dog Years

5-16-13

By Claudia Quigg

Time drags for kids who don’t have awareness of the passing days.  While seasons rush by in a blur for busy adults, young children may feel that winter lasts forever.

 

Most adults will recall the time in their lives when a school year seemed like a lifetime, and a summer was an eternity.  Remember how rich you felt in early June with a long string of summer days reaching out before you?  But now you know that even in June, autumn will be here before you know it and you’d better get ready for another cold season to follow.  Our sense of timing changes dramatically across our life span.

 

Young children live in the moment, for good and for bad.  Their engagement in that moment gives them the focus they need to wring every bit of learning out of it.  Their years are like dog years to them, each day packed full of living.

 

Over the years, children build perspective about the mysterious passage of time we all experience.

 

Parents can give kids a sense of control over time by talking about events to come.  Hearing about the day ahead at breakfast helps a child manage it better than living each moment unsure of what will happen next.

 

Likewise, parents can talk about events in the weeks to come.  While the concept of time measurement is still tricky for children younger than school age, they can know that Molly is coming to play sometime in the future.

 

One young dad shared that he’s learned a few days of anticipation is all his two-year-old can handle.  He now knows to wait until a little closer to events to let her excitement peak.

 

Building their perspective of time is one way our children grow to feel competent as they develop a picture of how each day fits into the progress of their lives.

 

And one day, they’ll look back gratefully at the patient teaching of their loving parents during those long years that now seem to have passed in the blink of an eye.

Exhausted and Guilty

5-9-13

By Claudia Quigg

A dad of three little boys recently blogged about his frustration with middle-aged people telling him he should “cherish this time” with his kids, adding their warning that “It goes so fast!”

 

He loves his three boys but points out he would happily live without the demands, fussing and “ragged, how-am-I-going-to-make-it-to-the-end-of-the-day, eyes burning exhaustion” that sometimes fill his days.

 

He requests that if you have friends with small children—especially if your own children are teenagers or grown—“please vow to me right now that you will never say this to them.”

 

He suggests that instead we assure young parents they’re doing a good job, rather than making them feel guilty about not being able to enjoy their exhaustion.  In truth, the years go by quickly, but each day can seem an eternity.

 

Many of us with grown children will confess that life is easier now.  We cook what we want to eat.  We freely commit our time to our own schedule. We read books with more than 32 pages and watch what we want on television.

 

But we recognize that in that demanding season of raising young children, a quiet miracle happens to us.  We discover valuable newfound capacities.  We learn to live on less sleep than we dreamed possible.  Our patience and tolerance expand and our character enlarges as we realize that we are the models on which our children will build our shared future.

 

These competencies support our success in middle and later life.  We’ve learned to work hard and sacrificially, even when we miss sleep.  Our tolerance enables us to collaborate with others whose styles may challenge us.  Our shoulders broaden under the load of child-rearing, leaving us equipped to pick up the mantle of societal responsibility in the future.

 

So if you’re a parent of very young children now, take heart.  Sooner or later your children will sleep through the night, manage their own fusses, and finally move away from home.  And even if they leave your house worse for wear, they’ll leave you a more fully-developed human being.

Parenting is Primal

5-2-13

By Claudia Quigg

A new baby monitor has more bells and whistles than ever before.  This monitor maintains information on everything about a baby:  the temperature in his crib, how deeply asleep the baby is, and even exactly how much urine is in the baby’s diaper.

 

Before you know it, new parents will be glued to their monitor’s display to know about their sleeping babies.  If it can be measured by a machine, conscientious parents will feel duty-bound to pay attention to it.

 

And yet parents have relied instead on their instincts for hundreds of years to know these very same things about their babies.  They sense when a room is too hot and open a window or lower the thermostat.  They listen to their sleeping babies and know about their sleep cycles.  As they hold their babies with a hand under their bottoms, they see their babies squirm and feel the spreading warmth that announces a gush of urine.

 

When it comes to the care of their infants, primal instincts tell parents what their babies need.  Parenting a baby is, at its most basic level, about keeping a baby’s tummy full, his bottom clean and his feelings secured at a time in his life when he depends on someone else to do those things for him.

 

This process is not so different for humans than for other families in the animal kingdom.  Queen Victoria, that most refined woman, wrote to her own daughter, “What you say of the pride of giving life to an immortal soul is very fine, dear, but I own I cannot enter into that; I think much more of our being like a cow or a dog at such moments.”

 

Instinctively providing for their babies’ needs without the benefit of technology, parents around the world monitor their babies just fine.  Technology is a problem if it separates parents from their instincts.  Give me a machine to announce the world news or inspire with thoughtful commentary.  But give me a tuned-in parent to tell me what’s really going on with a baby.

Practicing Peace

4-26-13

By Claudia Quigg

The human family provides a great laboratory for learning about what works—and what doesn’t—in relationships.

 

Siblings are predisposed to competition because their very existence depends on their winning favor with their parents.  Scrambling to the top of the heap is one way to assure they will have food, shelter and protection to be able to grow up safely.

 

Some parents have discovered ways to use these battles to teach their children skills in conflict management.  Here are three responses to sibling conflict I especially admire:

 

One family manages sibling squabbles by requiring the warring children to sit across the kitchen table facing each other, holding hands, until the conflict is resolved.  The children protest, but they can’t let go of each others’ hands until a solution is found.

 

Ultimately, these kids come up with some answers which seem to appease everyone.   Many of us wish our Congress would give this approach a try.

 

Another family has a rule that if you make someone cry, you must get a tissue and wipe that brother or sister’s tears.  Kids learn from sensory experiences, and facing the reality of the pain you’ve caused is a powerful lesson.  These children look to one another for comfort, ending the cycle of parents rushing in to comfort the injured party.
And finally, in another family, when children fuss, they call them together and give them a task to complete together.  They’re sent to the yard to rake leaves or the kitchen to wash dishes.  The parents clear out and let the kids get to work.

 

I think this approach works for two reasons.  First, sibling fusses frequently grow out of boredom.  Also, kids’ working together commits them to the success of each other, and may even bind them together in their resentment of their ridiculous parents.

 

Smart parents use these challenges to support their kids in developing skills they need for a happy life.  In this case as in many others, the laboratory of the family proves to be the learning environment perfectly designed to help kids grow up.

Home Alone

4-11-13

By Claudia Quigg

In the movie “Home Alone,” Kevin’s family leaves him behind in their rush to make a trans-Atlantic flight, recognizing his absence a bit late.  But the parents I know are more thoughtful about when to leave their children alone at home.  And lately, several have asked my opinion about what is the right age to leave kids home alone.

Here’s my answer to this query:  It depends.

First, it depends on the situation.  If your child is alone at home, what supports will he have?  Are neighbors likely to be at home?  Is there a phone the child can use to call for help?

Will there be other children to care for or will the child be alone?  Other children may be good company, but managing younger siblings is a tall order for kids.

Will it be daylight or dark?  Lots of kids are confident to stay by themselves in the daylight hours before they feel as safe in the dark.

It also depends on the child.  Is your child confident about taking on this challenge?  Is she generally mature and reliable?  Do you feel you can trust her to manage this lack of supervision?  And most importantly:  Does your child feel ready to be home alone?

Once you’ve determined both your situation and your child are ready, set him up for success.  Teach him how to manage your house.  Show him how to work the door locks and alarm system as well as the oven or microwave.

Practice what to say if someone calls on the phone or comes to the door.  He’ll need to practice saying, “My parents can’t come to the phone right now.  Can I have them call you back?”

Make a plan for how he can get help if he needs it.  Post emergency phone numbers, including 911 for police or fire and the phone numbers of a few neighbors or close friends.

Staying home alone helps your child build independence.  Like every other first step, it may feel awkward initially, but with practice you’ll both get it right.

At the Sound of the Beep

4-4-13

By Claudia Quigg

LISTEN

The twelve-year old girl keeps candy by her bedside, reaching for it several times in the night.  She can barely sleep for her awareness of its easy accessibility.

 

When she drags herself out of bed in the morning, she reaches for it first thing, starting her day with a full dose.

 

Her parents require that she leave the candy at home in accordance with school rules. But the minute she hits the door at 3:00 p.m., she races for her stash and disappears into her bedroom to catch up.

 

All evening, her family beckons her with bids for dinner, homework and conversation, but she’s distracted by that candy.

 

Oh, wait.  Did I say candy?  I meant cell phone.  This twelve-year-old girl is addicted all right, but her addiction is to constant access to her social world made available by the small device she holds in her hand.

 

In a parenting challenge new with this generation, families are driven apart by a tool that has the capacity for good.  Technology and its easy availability distract us from our presence with one another.

 

Such access to electronic contact is addicting.  The earlier comparison to candy was no accident.  Our dependence on sugar is not unlike our compulsion to reach for our cell phones.

 

And yet most parents would never allow 24-hour access to candy.  Our concerns about obesity, tooth decay and diabetes have taught us to limit sugary snacks for our children.

 

Seeing how thoughtful parents are about what their children consume gives me hope that we’ll figure out how to manage too much electronic access.  The great strategies that parents have in place for controlling sugary temptations may give us a model for managing kids’ access to technology.

 

Technology is a boon to families in many ways.  But kids need a break from their social world.  Fusses circulating at school die a natural death if not fueled by constant twittering.   An evening with the family reminds kids of the truth about who they are, enabling them to face tomorrow’s challenges.

 

And that’s pretty sweet.

The Box

3-28-13

By Claudia Quigg

LISTEN

A recent family gathering came on the heels of a large appliance purchase. During an evening of conversation and play, The Box which had contained the appliance sat on the family room floor.

 

First, The Box needed decorating. Crayons transformed it from brown cardboard to a work of art, with the scribbles of a toddler, the stick figures of a preschooler and the more recognizable forms drawn by the older kids.

 

Once its decoration was complete, it was available for play. First, the baby wanted to be put into The Box, her eyes glowing as she peered out the top.

 

Next it was time for the toddlers to enjoy The Box. Again and again, they closed the lid and waited for us to “find” them, practicing their new game of “peek-a-boo.”

 

When it was the preschoolers’ turn to play, The Box became the scene for playing house where Mommy and Daddy cooked supper. Then suddenly The Box became a castle where the king and queen held court.

 

As the evening wore on, the big kids got into the act. They enclosed themselves in The Box and upended each other, using The Box as a vehicle for the roughhousing they adore.

 

Each child used The Box to work on developmental tasks just right for him or her.  Children are driven by their own developmental agenda, using every experience to learn lessons they’re ready to learn. They find activities just right for their stage of development when given the tool of a simple toy, like a box or ball.

 

We can buy an easel for kids to color on, but the sides of a box work just as well.  We can buy a playhouse constructed for pretending childhood scenarios of House or Castle, but a box can be either at a moment’s change.

 

At the end of the evening, the kids went to bed and The Box remained, a bit wobbly from the hard work it had done. The Box has a great deal to teach our children.  Fortunately, kids know exactly how to make that happen.