So I read the most amazing article last week called "How to Land Your Kid in Therapy" (see the entire article here http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2011/07/how-to-land-your-kid-in-therapy/8555/ ). It introduced me to the concept of the "helicopter parent" - the parent who puts 100% of herself into her children, providing them with every opportunity possible, encouraging and cheerleading their every move, and sheltering them from even the slightest bit of discomfort and disappointment. I know parents like this. Sometimes I can be this parent. Sometimes, when I fall into the trap of measuring my self worth by my children's successes, I even STRIVE to be this parent - after all, a happy and successful kid means I did my job, right? Uh, no. Not even close.
The article is written by a therapist who began to see adults in their late 20's and 30's who were coming to her for help with anxiety and depression. When she began to dig deeper into their upbringings she expected to find the textbook parenting "mistakes" - divorce, withholding of love, constant belittling, you name it. Instead she found quite the opposite. The adults sitting on her couch couldn't say enough wonderful things about their parents and all the love and opportunity that was showered on them. These patients felt all the more guilty for being depressed and unhappy. After all their parents had done for them, why were they still so lost? One psychiatrist pointed out "many parents will do anything to avoid having their kids experience even mild discomfort, anxiety, or disappointment, with the result that when, as adults, they experience the normal frustrations of life, they think something must be terribly wrong." I think this last statement hit home the hardest. Life certainly does throw curveballs at you. Career choices turn out to be wrong, jobs become mundane, friendships go down bad roads, marriages hit some rocky times, financial woes rear their ugly heads, and many other unpleasant things pop up to derail the course of our lives. Truth is, most of these curveballs are NORMAL! Not every second of marriage is rosy, not every job will make us millionaires, and our kids will not always be perfectly behaved. Do we want to raise children that expect a perfect life? What happens when reality hits them square in the face? Isn't it better to let them know that life will most definitely be a rollercoaster of ups and downs? In the midst of especially hard times or especially good times, Erik and I will often turn to each other and say a simple statement, "Peaks and valleys, huh? Peaks and valleys". We have had both good and challenging times come our way. If there is one thing we have learned, the valleys make the peaks so much more gratifying. I want my kids to have the confidence that they can overcome the rough patches in life - and they won't know that unless I let them experience it.
An even more disturbing effect of helicopter parenting is the blurring of the line between high self esteem and out and out narcissism. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see the upswing of narcissism in our culture. Our need to post every minutia of our lives on facebook (guilty here), blog (guilty again), and constantly check our mail and text inboxes is a reflection of our inflated self importance. This will only get worse with our children, apparently. A professor of psychology writes, " ...parents act like their servants, shuttling them to any activity they choose and catering to their every desire. Parents are constantly telling their children how special and talented they are. This gives them an inflated view of their specialness compared to other human beings." She goes on to say that these kids grow up and have trouble working in teams, and have a hard time in unstructured environments, since they had been provided with structure for their entire lives. She says these kids grow up to be adults who believe they don't have the ability to solve problems - and they don't, because problems were always being solved for them. We've also demonized the concept of "average". God forbid we have an average child. I once attended a mom's conference where the speaker implored us to "delight in your ordinary child". Not every kid will be best and the brightest. It's easy as a parent to bask in the glows of talented children, and you are kidding yourself if you don't admit that children with no clear dominance in any one area gives us our own anxiety. Perhaps that is why we shuffle our kids from activity to activity, trying to find the thing that they shine at. Now I'm not saying it's not our job as parents to help our kids find what they are good at, but it's probably more important to stress that they find something they enjoy - even if they stink at it. I admit Jayson isn't very good at Karate, but he sure does love it.
I have to tell you, this article really hit me hard. I would like to think I"m not acting like a helicopter parent, but I know that most of us have a hard time recognizing or admitting our own failings. I've said many times that, as I near 40, I realize that the biggest part of being an adult is confessing that we don't know it all, we are sometimes (often times?) wrong, and we always have room for improvement. I think I can improve in this area of my parenting for sure. Now this doesn't mean that I'm leaving my kids to their own devices while I sit on the couch and eat bon bons (although that does sound lovely). But you can bet that I'm going to loosen the reigns a little bit. I will stop handing out advice like candy to my daughter, and start letting her figure out some issues on her own. I'm going to resist the urge to sugar coat everything. Her skating team is having a pretty rough year this year. I've been trying to play up the positives and have told her repeatedly how wonderful the team looks. Maybe the lesson she needs to learn is that no matter how hard you work and how hard you try, you won't always be top tier. At the end of the day, you have to be happy with the amount of effort you have put in, but you also need to admit when you are out of your element and decide if you can be happy doing the activity without all the accolades. I'm already researching sleep away camps so she can spend a week with complete strangers and really get a sense of who she is and who she wants to be. I'm going to try my hardest to give Jayson a little more breathing space, since he is the child my helicopter hovers over the most. I know in my heart the greatest way I can help him is to let him learn to help himself. And I'm going to (gulp) let them both fail at things. Hopefully the more they fail and rebound, the more confident they will become.
So do yourself a favor and read the article. Perhaps you will take offense, or perhaps you will deem it nonsense. I certainly don't think I have all the answers, but it's important to at least check ourselves with periodic questions. In the mean time, I have a lot of strategic letting go to do...
Monday, January 23, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Resolutions
I don't normally make resolutions. I feel it just sets me up for failure and who needs that stress right after the holidays? But this year seems different. The past year has brought so many changes in me that I think I have naturally been moving towards some new attitudes. For the first time in a long time, I am starting 2012 with 2 resolutions. One will be achieved come hell or high water, and the other will probably continue to be a work in progress.
My first resolution is, as you know, to run a marathon. Training officially started on December 19th, although it has been ramped up since I stuck a 1/2 marathon into the mix next weekend. I'm feeling pretty darn good about achieving this resolution. There are surely unseen forces guiding me to success in this goal - how else could we Chicagoans explain temperatures near 50 degrees with no snow or ice to be found in the beginning of January? Surely God is watching out for me and knows I will need a little divine intervention to make winter training a reality. Sorry kids - I know you want to go sledding, but Mama has to train for the big 26.2. We shall see how long this great weather lasts...
My second resolution has been a long time coming and takes on many forms in my life. This year, and hopefully for the rest of my life, I am going to work harder on cultivating a life of contentment. On the surface this looks like an easy resolution - how hard is it to be content? In all honesty I think our culture makes contentment darn near impossible. Walk into any store, watch any TV commercial, go visit a friend with a nicer house than you, listen to someone describe their latest vacation - you get the idea. There is always something better, something nicer, something more fun "out there". We are on a constant quest to make our lives perfect, aren't we? If we just had new carpeting, or remodeled the kitchen, or got a new haircut, or found the perfect pair of jeans, or went to Disney World, or or or or or...
On a consumer level, I think I do a pretty good job. I avoid stores (and NEVER go to the mall), and rarely get suckered in by the latest and greatest thing (except I really covet an iPad - darn it!!). I can be blissfully happy with a library book, and a skein of yarn and some knitting needles. I'm a cheap date. I usually don't buy clothes until the favorite items I have are beyond repair - and I'm one of the only ladies I know who gets by on 4 pairs of shoes (OK, not including my running shoes). Anyone who has ever been to my house knows I'm not a slave to home decor. Although I admire the beautiful homes of other people, I'm pretty happy with the plain and simple house I currently have. I actually cringe when Erik talks about repainting or buying a picture for the wall. He is finishing a spare room in the basement for his parents and has asked me a few times how I want to decorate it. I told him to take the reigns and figure it out for himself - I have no interest. So perhaps I've cultivated more of a life of avoidance than contentment here - but hey, I AM content.
But it's the other areas of my life where I find myself trapped. Our culture not only teaches us to strive for it's version of happiness in the stores, it also woos us into chasing "perfection" in our personal lives and in the lives of our children. Being busy is worn like a badge of honor in America. The more friends we have, social engagements on the calendar, activities for our kids, involvement in schools and church, the better. I want to be more purposeful at this stage in my life deciding what is really necessary to fulfill me and I want my kids to be able to do the same. This means saying no to things - not because I can't do them, or because I don't like the person who has asked, or even because I don't want to. I need to start saying no to things that bring too much craziness into our lives. In other words, I need to be content with less.
Which brings me to my children. I was once at a Mom's conference and a speaker uttered the phrase "Comparison kills contentment". These words have resonated with me time and time again and in the past year this phrase has been ringing in my ears more loudly than ever. I think this saying is true in many areas of our lives, but it hits me really hard as a parent. As you know, I have a far from "perfect" son. He will never be a straight A student, and social awkwardness will continue to bedevil him for the rest of his life. He may or may not ever excel at athletics (although he can catch and throw a football like nobody's business - I'm just sayin'), and it's unlikely he will be in the "popular" crowd at school. Nothing is harder than watching Jayson around other kids his age, because I immediately start to (you guessed it) compare, compare, compare. And the more I compare him the less contentment I feel. When I pay attention to these emotions, I become more practiced in seeing the gifts and blessings that my son brings to me. He may not be the best writer in his class, but he loves school and his face lights up when he succeeds. He may not fly up the ranks in karate very quickly, but when he masters a kata he is SO proud of himself and sets his sights on the next belt. He may struggle with friendships, but when he finds a child who understands him and accepts him, I can literally see him physically relax and his face radiates with pure joy. I'd say that brings me a heck of a lot of contentment. I think Jayson's greatest gift to me is he will force me to let go of our culture's notion of "perfection" and "achievement". He will never reach it, anyways, so doesn't it make more sense that we redefine those notions and be content with them? In all honesty, reaching our culture's definition of success and achievement and happiness is just plain exhausting anyway.
I see this with my daughter as well. Katy is 11 years old and heading straight into the lion's mouth of contentment killing comparison - middle school. I am hoping she can navigate her way through the jungle and come up with her own definitions of contentment - definitions that don't include the labels on her clothes or what kind of phone she carries. I hope she can be content with finding a few true friends, rather than chasing the "popular' crowd who never seem stop chasing the idea of perfection. I think Katy already learned a lesson about contentment just recently with her ice skating. Katy is on a synchronized skating team and also takes individual lessons. Skating is a sport that one can really only excel in if they put in the time for coaching and practice. There are girls she knows that skate 6 days a week for many hours a day - and these girls are, in fact, very good at ice skating. Probably better than Katy will ever be. But not only can our family not afford more time on the ice, we are very wary of letting ice skating take over her life. So we talked to her about what she really loved about the sport and what her goals were. If she could honestly tell me that she loved it so much she was willing to dedicate the bulk of her time to it, then we would try hard to make that happen. But Katy told us the best thing about skating was being with her friends. So we decided to keep her on the synchro team (a relatively cheap way to enjoy the sport of skating), and keep her individual skating to a more reasonable and affordable once a week. She won't be as good as most girls at that rink to be sure, but I'm pretty sure she's content with that.
So 2012 will hopefully continue to shape my feelings of contentment. I'm already finding happiness in much simpler things. I'm hoping I don't alienate myself too badly from the culture around me. And I hope I reach that marathon goal in May. To be honest, I have no time goal. I'll be CONTENT with just crossing the finish line on my feet and with a pulse. Happy New Year everyone!
My first resolution is, as you know, to run a marathon. Training officially started on December 19th, although it has been ramped up since I stuck a 1/2 marathon into the mix next weekend. I'm feeling pretty darn good about achieving this resolution. There are surely unseen forces guiding me to success in this goal - how else could we Chicagoans explain temperatures near 50 degrees with no snow or ice to be found in the beginning of January? Surely God is watching out for me and knows I will need a little divine intervention to make winter training a reality. Sorry kids - I know you want to go sledding, but Mama has to train for the big 26.2. We shall see how long this great weather lasts...
My second resolution has been a long time coming and takes on many forms in my life. This year, and hopefully for the rest of my life, I am going to work harder on cultivating a life of contentment. On the surface this looks like an easy resolution - how hard is it to be content? In all honesty I think our culture makes contentment darn near impossible. Walk into any store, watch any TV commercial, go visit a friend with a nicer house than you, listen to someone describe their latest vacation - you get the idea. There is always something better, something nicer, something more fun "out there". We are on a constant quest to make our lives perfect, aren't we? If we just had new carpeting, or remodeled the kitchen, or got a new haircut, or found the perfect pair of jeans, or went to Disney World, or or or or or...
On a consumer level, I think I do a pretty good job. I avoid stores (and NEVER go to the mall), and rarely get suckered in by the latest and greatest thing (except I really covet an iPad - darn it!!). I can be blissfully happy with a library book, and a skein of yarn and some knitting needles. I'm a cheap date. I usually don't buy clothes until the favorite items I have are beyond repair - and I'm one of the only ladies I know who gets by on 4 pairs of shoes (OK, not including my running shoes). Anyone who has ever been to my house knows I'm not a slave to home decor. Although I admire the beautiful homes of other people, I'm pretty happy with the plain and simple house I currently have. I actually cringe when Erik talks about repainting or buying a picture for the wall. He is finishing a spare room in the basement for his parents and has asked me a few times how I want to decorate it. I told him to take the reigns and figure it out for himself - I have no interest. So perhaps I've cultivated more of a life of avoidance than contentment here - but hey, I AM content.
But it's the other areas of my life where I find myself trapped. Our culture not only teaches us to strive for it's version of happiness in the stores, it also woos us into chasing "perfection" in our personal lives and in the lives of our children. Being busy is worn like a badge of honor in America. The more friends we have, social engagements on the calendar, activities for our kids, involvement in schools and church, the better. I want to be more purposeful at this stage in my life deciding what is really necessary to fulfill me and I want my kids to be able to do the same. This means saying no to things - not because I can't do them, or because I don't like the person who has asked, or even because I don't want to. I need to start saying no to things that bring too much craziness into our lives. In other words, I need to be content with less.
Which brings me to my children. I was once at a Mom's conference and a speaker uttered the phrase "Comparison kills contentment". These words have resonated with me time and time again and in the past year this phrase has been ringing in my ears more loudly than ever. I think this saying is true in many areas of our lives, but it hits me really hard as a parent. As you know, I have a far from "perfect" son. He will never be a straight A student, and social awkwardness will continue to bedevil him for the rest of his life. He may or may not ever excel at athletics (although he can catch and throw a football like nobody's business - I'm just sayin'), and it's unlikely he will be in the "popular" crowd at school. Nothing is harder than watching Jayson around other kids his age, because I immediately start to (you guessed it) compare, compare, compare. And the more I compare him the less contentment I feel. When I pay attention to these emotions, I become more practiced in seeing the gifts and blessings that my son brings to me. He may not be the best writer in his class, but he loves school and his face lights up when he succeeds. He may not fly up the ranks in karate very quickly, but when he masters a kata he is SO proud of himself and sets his sights on the next belt. He may struggle with friendships, but when he finds a child who understands him and accepts him, I can literally see him physically relax and his face radiates with pure joy. I'd say that brings me a heck of a lot of contentment. I think Jayson's greatest gift to me is he will force me to let go of our culture's notion of "perfection" and "achievement". He will never reach it, anyways, so doesn't it make more sense that we redefine those notions and be content with them? In all honesty, reaching our culture's definition of success and achievement and happiness is just plain exhausting anyway.
I see this with my daughter as well. Katy is 11 years old and heading straight into the lion's mouth of contentment killing comparison - middle school. I am hoping she can navigate her way through the jungle and come up with her own definitions of contentment - definitions that don't include the labels on her clothes or what kind of phone she carries. I hope she can be content with finding a few true friends, rather than chasing the "popular' crowd who never seem stop chasing the idea of perfection. I think Katy already learned a lesson about contentment just recently with her ice skating. Katy is on a synchronized skating team and also takes individual lessons. Skating is a sport that one can really only excel in if they put in the time for coaching and practice. There are girls she knows that skate 6 days a week for many hours a day - and these girls are, in fact, very good at ice skating. Probably better than Katy will ever be. But not only can our family not afford more time on the ice, we are very wary of letting ice skating take over her life. So we talked to her about what she really loved about the sport and what her goals were. If she could honestly tell me that she loved it so much she was willing to dedicate the bulk of her time to it, then we would try hard to make that happen. But Katy told us the best thing about skating was being with her friends. So we decided to keep her on the synchro team (a relatively cheap way to enjoy the sport of skating), and keep her individual skating to a more reasonable and affordable once a week. She won't be as good as most girls at that rink to be sure, but I'm pretty sure she's content with that.
So 2012 will hopefully continue to shape my feelings of contentment. I'm already finding happiness in much simpler things. I'm hoping I don't alienate myself too badly from the culture around me. And I hope I reach that marathon goal in May. To be honest, I have no time goal. I'll be CONTENT with just crossing the finish line on my feet and with a pulse. Happy New Year everyone!
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