• My Amazing Discipline Trick!

    One of these days, I’ll have to tell you about my oldest son Noah. He was really something. Even my mom didn’t want to watch him. And she had 9 kids. But that’s a kind of long story for another day. Suffice it to say he was challenging.

    One of the things which made Noah particularly difficult is that he simply wasn’t responsive to punishment. He wasn’t vulnerable to any sort of trickery. “Flattery will get you no where” may well have been his first complete sentence. Time out was me dealing with a two hour fight and I’m sorry, you don’t get to just make me miserable for two hours straight like that. Day after day. Just . . . nothing I tried really worked. He was getting better over time, but good Lord, at the rate we were going he was going to be having temper tantrums on his honeymoon.

    I think it was while reading some book on positive parenting that I came across the idea which actually worked. And it’s the discipline trick I’ve turned to almost exclusively with all my other kids. Because it works. AND it teaches them skills that they need to be good, healthy people. But it’s so simple, you might think I’m crazy. Continue reading

  • Great Power and Petty Beligerance

    Yesterday, I wrote about how the changing role and nature of authority in our lives demands that we change the way we parent our kids. Which is why my first rule of parenting is to raise good men and women, not good children.

    Of course, as the existence of our prison system and the IRS demonstrate, authority still exists. Our kids do need to know how to submit to some authority other than their own. Even when they disagree with it. So it’s not that I’ve give up all authority over my children. Especially with five kids, there’s no way our family could function!

    Which leads to my second rule of parenting: great powers do not respond to petty belligerence. Especially in Christians circles, a great deal of weight is placed on establishing and maintaining the near absolute authority of the parents. The idea seems to be that the parent’s authority is under constant threat from rebellious children. Therefor, resistance to a parent’s authority must be dealt with as the threat it is.

    I think this is ridiculous. I’m in charge. I know I’m in charge. My kids know I’m in charge. I don’t need to waste my time proving to them that I’m in charge. Nor do I need to force them to continually reassure me that they still recognize my authority. Great powers can tolerate protests, complaints, petitions for change and challenges without fear. Only insecure powers feel that they must respond to and crush every petty belligerency.

    A great deal of conflict, stress, resentment and drama is created in families by parents who take their kids behavior as a threat to their authority. It’s a very ugly dynamic that I’ve seen lead to terrible parenting and destroyed relationships. And it’s completely and totally unnecessary.

    I refuse to take my child’s behavior that personally. They behave the ways they do for their own reasons, not to see if they can knock me off my throne. Even when they are deliberately testing boundaries, it’s no threat. And I let them know that. If they go too far, I will put a stop to it, but otherwise, they enjoy a great deal of freedom. And they are allowed to renegotiate the boundaries from time to time. I’m in charge. I can decide to move boundaries if I see fit.

    Because of this, my children trust me. They know that I’m not engaged in senseless power struggles with them when I do put my foot down. They know that I will show respect for them even if they do not show respect for me, because I’m not nearly as childish as they are. They know that I will remain in control even when they do not. They know I can be trusted to listen to their concerns and deal fairly with them.

    So, the next time you are in conflict with your children, stop and make sure than an unwarrented concern for maintaining power isn’t driving you. Maybe get a t-shirt made to remind yourself, “Great powers are not threatened by petty belligerence”. You’re a great power in a secure position and none of you have anything to prove on that front.

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    Why Parents Should Meditate

    Meditation is good for us. The bible tells us to meditate dozens and dozens of times. Modern science has shown that meditation changes the way our brains work and provides a host of physical and mental health benefits. Everyone should learn to meditate.

    While meditation is good for everyone, it is essential for parents. In fact, I think it is safe to say that if I didn’t meditate, I would be unable to parent my 5 children without the assistance of weed or booze to smooth things out. But because I meditate, I am usually an oasis of peace in the middle of chaos, even while sober.

    When you meditate, you learn to tune out your senses – or at least not give them center stage. Which is really helpful when a kid spilled milk in the car without your knowing it. If you haven’t learned to meditate and tune out your senses, the smell of spoiled milk every time you get in the car might really bother you. Not so for the meditating parent.

    When you meditate, you learn to quiet or take no notice of the chattering little voices in your head which insistently demand your attention. This is an essential skill for parents when several children gang up on you demanding ice cream and a pony. You just use the skills you have developed through hours of meditation and those chattering, insistent voices quickly fade away, leaving you free to contemplate what it would actually be like to have a pony in the backyard. As with meditation, when you take no notice of the chattering voices of children demanding that you give your full attention to every inanity of life, they wear themselves out and go away.

    Meditation also develops your powers of concentration. Which is helpful when you’re trying to pay enough attention to what your daughter is saying so you can keep track of who is mad at whom today and what each person’s favorite My Little Pony character is. When you’re stuck in the house all day with small children, you take your gossip where you can get it, so this is very important.

    The ability to tame your brain and concentrate is also helpful when you have a kid who wants to explain, in minute detail, an epic pokemon battle he saw on youtube. The control over your brain developed through meditation allows you to tune him out entirely without him noticing. You just tune in a couple times a minute to repeat the last word or two you heard – “he used thunderbolt attack, mmhm.” Then your brain is free to plan your next meal, rehash your argument with your sister or find the answer to meaning of life. A parent who doesn’t meditate has to either let their kid know that you don’t care what they are talking about or be held hostage to a long diatribe about the evolution of Celibi, the guardian of the forest.

    Another benefit of meditating is that you become more aware of what’s happening in the moment. My husband responds to the various screetches, yells, wails and shouts of our children with alarm and panic. He doesn’t meditate much and therefore has a hard time tuning into the details of the present moment in a pinch. He often struggles to discern the difference between the cry of a child whose finger has just been severed and a child who is losing an argument. But as a meditating parent who is in the moment, I can discern not only between serious injury and frustration. I can tell the difference between crying caused by injury that requires medical attention, injury which requires an ice pack and an over-reaction to a scratch. This greatly reduces the amount of panic in my life. It allows me to continue what I am doing until the child who is wailing comes to tattle on someone.

    Now that I have teens, I have found that being an experienced meditator is even more essential than ever. For example, part of meditating is not responding to every thought, emotion and stimulus that comes up. Instead of reacting, you just observe. Let it be what it is. Which was helpful this afternoon when my son came home with two bows in his hair. Rather than reacting, I could simply observe that his hair looks cute with bows in it. When my other son decided to forgo a shower this morning, I was able to observe that the room he was sitting in smelled like cumin and politely told him to go shower before the odor seeped into the couch cushions.

    People sometimes ask me how it is that I can raise 5 kids, keep my house from being condemned by the county and write. The answer, simply is meditation. If it wasn’t for meditation, I wouldn’t be able to write many of my blog posts like this (you only think I am kidding):

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    Related: Just a Housewife in Wisconsin

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    Of Teen Boys and Scantily Dressed Women

    I don’t usually write about parenting, in part because it feels like tempting fate. I’ll write parenting advice and then my kids will end up being drug dealers, pornographers and going out in public dressed like a cartoon pony character. But there are a few things I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten right, so over the next couple of weeks I’m going to be sharing some ideas about parenting with y’all.

    Today, I’m going to talk about the supposed problem of teen aged boys (and men) and the threat posed to them by girls and women who have the gall to walk about without their denim jumpers on. Really, this shouldn’t even be a thing that needs much discussion. But over the last few months, I’ve run across what seems like an increasing number of discussions on the subject. And more often than not, what I’m reading is alarming rubbish.

    These discussions generally fall into two categories. Either they attempt to shame/scold/convict women into covering it up in consideration of the men who see them. Or they advise men on how to “bounce/avert their eyes” in order to avoid looking at the female forms wandering the streets around them.

    As the mother of two teen boys (ages 14 and 18), I find both of these approaches infuriating and insulting. There is another way entirely to approach the subject. One which helps boys grow into, you know, mature adults who don’t think “boobies” every time a woman with some cleavage goes by. And which isn’t sexist and shaming to women. It’s crazy, I know. But bear with me here. . .

    So let’s go back to a little over a decade ago to when I was walking through Target with my then 7 year old son pushing the cart next to me. Suddenly I noticed that he had begun walking strangely. Like he was clomping his feet. I asked him what he was doing and he explained that he had been walking with his eyes closed. In order to avoid looking at a picture of a woman in her underwear which was hanging from the ceiling. 

    I don’t remember the context, but apparently at some point, I had told him that a good man doesn’t look at women’s bodies – even if they are hanging them out for all to see. So he was doing the gentlemanly thing and closing his eyes to avoid looking at a woman’s body. It was kind of cute, but it did make me think teaching my kid something that had him walking around with his eyes closed wasn’t such a great idea.

    After that I hit on a really novel idea; what if I taught my boys to view women – even naked women – as (wait for it . . . ) human beings? Like what if I taught them that instead of seeing women as potential mates or sex partners or walking titillation machines, they should view them simply as fellow human beings? What if I taught them that considerations of a person’s appeal as a sexual partner should be limited to a woman they want to be in a committed relationship with? Crazy, I know.

    So now I teach my boys that I don’t care if a woman walks up to him wearing naught but the skin she came in, they’d better look her in the eye and talk to her like any other human being.

    Now, some of you are saying, “but Rebecca, boys – hormones – sexy – it’s only natural!” Well, sure. Boys have hormones. They can turn anything into a dirty joke. Women are sexy. That’s reality and I’m not naive enough to think simply telling them to view women as fellow humans will change that. (Nor would I want to change that, really.) So . .

    Next, I decided that the real solution to the problem of boys and boobies was to allow them to become accustomed to the female form. After all, nudists manage to live together without the men having to shift uncomfortably and cross their legs every time they are in the presence of a naked woman. Men in tribes where clothing is minimal don’t get a woody every time a woman passes by. Why do we act as if it’s unavoidable that a male who can see a woman’s body is going to view her in a sexual way?

    I certainly didn’t encourage them to leer or decorate their rooms with pin up girls. But the picture of a woman in her underwear hanging from the ceiling at Target? I think I need some new underwear. Let’s go stand under it. The nude scene in Titanic? No fast-forwarding it, just sit and watch it as if it were the most normal thing in the world. We’re not German enough to sit down for dinner naked, but casual nudity became deliberately more common in our home.

    Basically I made a point of treating the female form as completely normal, non-sexual and unremarkable as I could. Certainly no more suggestions that women’s bodies were a sight to be avoided. No treating the female body as a threat to their purity or standing as good men. We all have bodies. Half of us have female bodies. We all need to get over it instead of treating it like a scandal.

    But still – boys – hormones – boobies – lust!

    As any male can attest, pubescent boys can find anything sexy. They get turned on when the wind blows in a certain direction. And let Miss Schoolmarm wear a tight sweater to school and soon the poor boy’s grades begin to suffer. But the thing is that this is a stage. It’s a normal stage. Like all other developmental stages, a person can get stuck there. Or they can experience it and move on.

    If you want them to get stuck with the mind of a 12 year old, unable to concentrate in the presence of the nefarious boobie, here’s what you do. First you tell them that if they experience sexual desire, they are going to get in trouble. Like they will go to hell. Baby Jesus will cry over them. That way rather than experiencing and getting over this normal state of development, they will spend much of the rest of their lives trying to fight it.

    Or you can let them know that it’s normal. It’s kind of silly and occasionally embarrassing. But that they will grow out of it. That way they know that while being distracted by and sexually attracted to random women they meet is normal and not bad, it’s also a sign of immaturity. Real manhood lies on the other side of this stage of their development.

    So add in some discussions about consent, rape culture, porn and sexting and that’s what I’ve done with my boys. As much as I hate to call down bad juju by claiming parenting success, it’s working. There are things about my boys I’m not entirely pleased with, of course. But when it comes to dealing with women and managing their sexuality, I don’t mind saying that they continual impress me. May it always be so! ;)

    This is already longer than I intended, but before I go, I’d like to share something I realized just recently. It has to do with the importance of touch. This past summer, my 18 year old spent three weeks away from home working. He reported that while he was gone, he found himself “checking out” girls far more often than was normal for him. He said he’s pretty sure that it was because while he was gone, physical touch was almost completely absent in his life. We’re a (deliberately) high touch family. At home, he regularly holds and sits with his sisters while reading, watching TV and the like. Hugs are frequent. We sit close together while talking, etc. We humans NEED physical touch. Unfortunately, we tend to be a low touch culture. In fact, once we’re past childhood, sexual activity is one of the only ways that many people experience touch. My son’s observation made me wonder how much teen sexual behavior is driven by this need for physical contact. My younger son is much less comfortable with physical contact, but oddly, he’s much more willing to engage in hugging and even sitting close together as he’s entered into adolescent. So I would suggest that giving teens ample opportunity for non-sexual touch can be a good way to reduce their need/desire to get their touches through sexual behavior.

    And now I’m done. :)

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    Screaming Like A Banshee, How Not To

    Once upon a time, self-mastery/self-control was a highly valued trait for a Christian to have. Unfortunately, what passed for self-mastery was too often little more than repression and denial. Of course, neither repression or denial are held in very high esteem these days (and for good reason!). But the downfall of repression and denial has in turn lead to the virtue of self-mastery being downgraded from a highly sought after virtue to barely an after-thought in the Christian life.

    The reason that self-mastery has traditionally been held in such high regard among Christians, is because it is held in high regard by scripture. 2 Peter 1 connects self-control with partaking of God’s divine nature, for example. Self-control is one of the fruits of the Spirit in Galatians 5:232 Timothy 1:7 lists self-control alongside power and love as the result of God’s spirit. Proverbs 25:28 says that a person without self-control is like a city whose walls have been breached. When Paul was imprisoned by Felix, he taught “righteousness, self-control and the judgment to come” when asked to preach on faith in Jesus. I could go on, but the point is that even though we’ve rightly tossed out the practice of repression and denial, we ought to cling to and work to develop self-mastery as part of our Christian faith.

    So . . . the question becomes how to cultivate self-control once repression and denial are no longer desirable tools. It just so happens that self-control is something I have spent a lot of time helping my children to develop over the years. Unfortunately for me (and everyone’s eardrums), self-control didn’t come naturally to any of my children. In fact, it often felt like trying to teach a fish to walk. At the moment, it’s my middle daughter who is receiving intensive tutoring on the subject. She’s the one, if you recall, would rather miss a meal than compromise on where to sit at dinner and who responds to a light swat on the rear with shrieks of “help, I need immediate medical attention!” So we’ve got our work cut out for us. But progress is being made.

    What I do have going for me is 18 years of experience teaching decidedly uninterested, unreasonable and hysterical children the fine art of self-control. And so I figured I would share this week’s lesson with y’all as well. Just in case it might help someone.

    The first step I’m teaching Miss-screams-a-lot is to start by simply identifying how she is feeling. Like all of us, this child has a feeling, comes up with reasons to justify that feeling and then believes that those reasons are the cause of her misery. Thus we are treated to a barrage of “she did this and he did that and they’re being mean to me and everyone’s always mean to me and I’m sick of it” several times a day which no amount of reasoning can do anything to stop. We’ve talked about this before – we like to think that we react for perfectly good reasons, but the reality is that we react and then come up with perfectly good reasons to justify it. By starting with the feeling, rather than the provocation, we addressing the actual cause for the lack of self-control. Continue reading

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    Wrestling Hope

    “Totally without hope one cannot live. To live without hope is to cease to live. Hell is hopelessness. It is no accident that above the entrance to Dante’s hell is the inscription: ‘Leave behind all hope, you who enter here.’” Jurgen Moltmann

    I’ve wrestled a lot with hope in the last few years. Mostly to try and send it away. “Hope deferred makes a heart sick.” I’ve had enough of being sick. But allowing oneself to venture into hell is a dangerous thing as well. I know – I’ve wandered into hell more than once as of late and couldn’t muster the strength to find my way back out.

    I’ve taken to resisting comfort. I’ve fallen for it too many times before. I’ve read the words of scripture and their promises that God will not abandon me or let me fall. My heart has leapt at them only to find that holding onto comfort is like holding onto water as it slips out between your fingers. And God is no where to be seen but my failure is all around me. Better not to let myself try to grab hold any more.

    I’ve gazed at the cross with its promise of redemption after suffering. But Jesus’ suffering lasted for a weekend and mine is lasting for years. Jesus’ suffering was probably greater than mine, but it’s not a competition. My neighbor’s broken leg doesn’t make my broken heart hurt any less. I’d say I just want my suffering to end, but the damage has already been done. What difference does it make now?

    And then I realize that it is an evil thing I’m fighting with which bids me to remain in hell and refuse comfort as too little too late and far too quickly gone. Continue reading

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    Do Your Kids Know Their Own Story?

    I’m having some trouble writing at the moment, so in honor of my daughter Olivia’s 3rd birthday, here’s a repeat which ends with the story of how Olivia came to be – aside from the obvious, of course. (At the time this was written, my husband and I were separated. We’re back together now. For those of you following along at home.)

    Each of my children has a story we tell them about some way in which their lives have mattered.  I believe that it’s one thing to tell a kid they are important and that they matter, but it’s something of a gift to them to be able to tell them how they have mattered.  Then they’re not just a lowly child floating out in the world with no real base or purpose to start with.  It grounds the message that they have value in their real world.  It’s concrete evidence for them that just because they exist, the world is a different, better place. Continue reading

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    For the Woman at the Post Office Who is Reporting Me for Child Abuse

    I gave her my name, so I’m kind of hoping she googles me. Cuz that’s how cool I am – if you google my name, it brings ya here. As long as the cops never figure that out, I’m good. ;p

    Anyhow, the reason I hope she googles me and finds this is because like her, I care very much about the proper treatment of children. In fact, I care so much about it that I even care about the damage which is done by those who see something very good – caring about how kids are treated – as an opportunity to tear vulnerable people down, be self-righteous and judgmental. (Sound familiar? It’s ugly behavior outside of a Christian context as well!)

    So what happened was I was at the post office with my 3 year old daughter Olivia. The one who was walking at 8 1/2 months. The one who we couldn’t let Great Grandma hold when she met her at 5 months because she was too squirmy for an old woman to hang onto. The one who can scale our refrigerator by holding the handles. The one who can hoist herself up to your waist and onto your back and onto your shoulders all by herself as you struggle to peel her off before she’s sitting on your head like an ill behaved cat. She climbs on counters and tries to launch herself onto your back as you pass by. That one. Up there in the picture looking all abused. Because she got into my lipstick and gave herself a plum unibrow. Continue reading

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    Do You Treat God Like Old Aunt Myrtle?

    “Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all.” Luke 18:17

    When ever I have hear this verse taught the point is pretty much the same: we should have a child like trust.  What does that even mean?  It gives me a vision of children sitting around gazing up at us with trusting goo-goo eye all day.  As if.  Obedience?  Ever known any real-live children?

    Become like little children.  Perhaps Jesus meant this comment more literally than we usually take it.  I happen to know a thing or two about children and off the top of my head, here’s a quick list of typical behaviors:

    • They bring you their boo-boos to fix
    • They follow you around chattering about any little thing they can think of, just to be with you
    • They ask questions – lots and lots of questions
    • They test boundaries
    • They look to you to show them who they are
    • They sometimes have to learn things the hard way
    • They like to make you laugh
    • They seek you out when they are lonely, bored, restless
    • They like to learn more about you and your life
    • They ask more questions Continue reading
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    PMS, Reinterpreted

    Do women tend to have higher natural emotional intelligence (EQ) than men? Most people think so although research hasn’t settled the argument yet. But if women do have higher EQ, I think I know the reason: PMS. (Men, you need to hear this, so don’t check out on me now!)

    There’s this weird thing which happens with PMS. Every month you have a day or two where you are completely convinced that your life is awful, with no redeeming qualities, hardly worth living. You will find yourself collecting evidence to support this perspective. The money problems. The kid’s dirty clothes. That hole in the wall that’s needed patching for as long as the baby’s been alive. It’s all your fault, evidence of your failure. And it’s hopeless. You know for a fact that all those people saying things like “you don’t lose until you quit” are delusional unicorn-friending idiots. At some point you start to understand women who abandon their kids to smoke meth in a motel outside of Vegas with a truck driver. It makes perfect sense in fact.

    But here’s the thing: while you are busy wondering if you actually have the cajones to go to the local truck stop and start talking up potential new boyfriends, it never, ever occurs to you that any of this is anything but gospel truth. It’s not until the next day when you discover for a fact that you are not pregnant that you realize – it’s just hormones! It’s not actually real. Continue reading