The Great Debate

Ah, arguing. The common denominator in all parent-child relationships.

Don and I decided early on that we wanted to encourage a healthy ability to reason in Malcolm, and therefore didn't always discourage arguing. In fact, we often take the time to sit down and hear out his reasons, even if we are certain we won't budge on our final decision (though we have, on occasion). Our theory is that it will teach him that we care about his opinion, and encourage him to be more honest with us. Malcolm has appeared to enjoy testing this theory.

I have doubted this tactic many times while arguing with my child. After all, conventional wisdom is that arguing (from children) is a sign of disrespect, and needs to be nipped in the bud. However, in the book I'm reading, "Nurture Shock", this conventional wisdom is challenged.

Studies cited in the book show that children who argue with their parents do so because they have a lot of respect for them. Arguing is actually a sign of honesty in children, that they are not hiding something from their parents. When you should *really* be concerned, it seems, is when your child just ignores you altogether.

Now, for those of you who have teenagers and think, "well, my child is one of those exceptions - he/she is honest with me all of the time", I have news for you: 96% of teenagers lie to their parents. This was across the board - students with high grades, students with low grades, drinkers, non-drinkers, low income, high income, kids with "permissive" parents and kids with "strict" parents - it doesn't matter. Chances are, your child is lying to you about something. (And for those of you thinking "my child is in the 4%" - fat chance.)

I highly recommend picking up this book, and if you are the parent of a teenager, at least flipping to the chapter titled "The Science of Teen Rebellion." There is a lot of fascinating information that might be extremely helpful to you surviving your child's adolescence, and could possibly strengthen your relationship as well. In the meantime though, please try to see arguing as a good thing, and show your child that you value their input and are willing to listen to their opinions on things. Could go a long way in more frequent displays of honesty, and less "sneaking around." At least, that's what I'm hoping for with Malcolm!

Mother of the Year

According to my mom, my high school guidance counselor had once declared that I'm a "AAA" personality type.

Somehow, I don't think that was meant as a compliment.

For those of you unfamiliar with the "Type A, Type B" personality construct, allow me to give you a quick breakdown:

• Type "A" personalities are workaholic, task-driven, competitive, ambitious stress addicts
• Type "B" personalities are calm, patient, easy going meditatives.

In other words, when the Type A personality finally "goes postal," the Type B personality will be the loving, patient therapist that calmly reassures them that a demonic bunny is not, indeed, telling them the end of the world is near.

So, being the Type A that I am, motherhood immediately became something to conquer and control. I couldn't simply be a good mom, I had to be the BEST. My kid couldn't just be a good kid, he had to be THE BEST.

You can imagine how well that went over.

During the first 5 years of Malcolm's life, I found myself constantly comparing myself to other moms, analyzing their behavior and trying to figure out which method of parenting was the best way, so I could guarantee I was giving my best parent performance possible. After hearing about something one of my "mom friends" had done, I would feel guilt-ridden if I didn't somehow incorporate it into my parenting style. If one was creative and did art projects, I would try that with Malcolm. If one was super strict on the kinds of food she allowed her child to eat, I would suddenly find myself eliminating pudding from the fridge and adding more fruit. If one was more free-flowing and felt like we put too many "rules" on kids, I'd try to lighten up - the pudding would come back and bring some friends (cookies anyone?) and rules went out the window.

What was the result of all these escapades? A closet full of unused art supplies, half-finished projects, a child who is extremely confused on how often he is allowed to eat sweets, and a mother who felt worse than before.

Over the last year, I've finally started to "come into my own" as a parent. I am finally beginning to realize that I need to be the parent I feel is best for Malcolm, and that emerges most naturally from me. So far, that seems to mean a good balance of the Disney Channel and book reading, cookies and apples with peanut butter, and yes, the occasional art project. But now, this all feels natural and fun, and less like a competition for Mother of the Year.

Honestly, at this point I don't care if I'm the best Mom out there - I just care that I'm the best one for Malcolm.

Nurture Shock

I have started reading a new book entitled "Nurture Shock." The premise of the book is that a lot of conventional wisdom about child rearing is really not helping our children. For example, the idea of constant praise...

In the chapter titled "The Inverse Power of Praise," the authors share study after study that showed that children who are praised for their intelligence often end up not putting in effort for things that are difficult for them. They seem to feel that if it doesn't come easily, it must not be "their thing." Additionally, they want to preserve their title of "smart" and won't risk public failure. The authors (and the many scientists they cited) suggest praising the child for very specific items, and for their effort, rather than just giving the title "smart."

From the book:

"Emphasizing effort gives a child a variable they can control...They come to see themselves as in control of their success. Emphasizing natural intelligence takes it out of the child's control, and it provides no good recipe for responding to a failure."

...and...

"When they get to college, heavily-praised students commonly drop out of classes rather than suffer a mediocre grade, and they have a hard time picking a major - they're afraid to commit to something because they're afraid of not succeeding."

Holy Cow. Can I just tell you, that last sentence is totally me? I dropped out of physics for fear of ruining my GPA, and I floated from major to major. Fear of success is very palpable for me. Interesting.

I've noticed this even with Malcolm. We tell him he's smart ALL of the time. But then I began to notice that he would give up easily or get frustrated when trying something he didn't innately understand. He would sigh in frustration and sometimes even cry. Over time, I tried explaining to him the importance of trying and would encourage him to move forward, praising him for his effort. I didn't realize that the *real* impact of praising his effort will really come from the times he is very successful at what he has accomplished, and we choose to praise him for the hard work he did to make that happen.

I believe I will be changing the way I interact with my child! I'm only on chapter 2 of this book, but so far I highly recommend it.

Confession time.

I think there is a common feeling among a lot of us mothers that we need to defend our intellect once we push those little buggers out. Those of us who had worked to shape careers prior to having children are faced with the decision of stopping work, continuing on, or making some part-time employment adjustment. For some, this decision is easy, whichever path they chose. Others struggle with guilt on one or the other side of the equation: either we feel guilty for going back to work and secretly enjoying getting away, or we feel as though we've wasted our college degrees and thrown in the towel on our intellect by staying at home to "just be a mom."

I am one of those people who has a really difficult time making decisions. I'm also someone who has had to defend her intellect on many an occasion. High school teachers and college professors were always "surprised" to find me at the top of my class. Business men routinely discount my ability to participate in the business world, and sometimes ignore me altogether. A part of me feels constantly on edge, ready to prove my intelligence if needed.

It is this piece of me that keeps me from updating this blog on a regular basis.

I have another blog, where I talk about spiritual things, thoughtful things...but honestly, it's exhausting to me. I enjoy having these discussions, but trying to type out my thoughts in a coherent manner on heavy spiritual, political, or otherwise intellectual topics after spending the day at work writing grants, organizing finances, and building partnerships is just not appealing. However, I feel obligated to do so, as it will help me appear to be a thoughtful, intelligent human being. Updating a "mommy blog" and delighting in my son just seems so...pedestrian. (see? I can use big words!)

It was this feeling that also has made me have a stop-and-go flow on progress on a book I was thinking about writing...about motherhood. Part of me was afraid to have my definition reduced to one role I carry in my life. After all, I'm a mother, wife, sister, daughter, friend, nonprofit director...

But I can't change the fact that motherhood has profoundly changed me. And for the better, in my opinion. Being a mother is like having a huge mirror constantly held up in front of you. Since becoming one, I've gotten a better handle on my temper, improved my self-esteem drastically, learned a great deal more patience...and I'm still learning. Not to mention, my abilities to catch things mid-air and find missing items have increased tenfold.

So...here I am again, making a promise to update my blog more. This is a promise to myself, however, because it helps me focus more on Malcolm, and less on task achievement, and will keep me (hopefully) disciplined as I work toward finishing this book.

Hopefully, through this blog and book writing experiment, I can find the happy balance and prove that being a mommy doesn't mean abandoning your intellect. In fact, I look forward to the day when I finally stop taking myself so seriously, and can simply delight in the wonder and innocence of childhood.

Now, if I just had a sugar daddy...

His #1 gal

So, Malcolm and I were watching the Disney Channel yesterday, and on one of the shows, two of the characters shared a brief kiss. I looked at him and asked, "You're not into girls yet, right?" He turns at me with that exasperated look on his face and says "I love YOU, Mommy!" (ah....warms my heart) Me, of course, I have to push the envelope...so I say "Even when you find that one special girl, I'll still be your #1 gal, right?" He looks at me, exhales dramatically, and states, "No, Mommy." With mock (ok, somewhat real) hurt on my face, I exclaim, "I WON'T?!?" Malcolm's response: "No, Mommy...you'll be my #2 girl!!"

Ah, such wisdom at such a young age. As much as it hurts to admit it, I won't always be the most important woman in my son's life. And, even now, he knows that. He's explained several times that he can't wait until he is a daddy, has his own wife and kids and lives in his own house. He has even stated that he thinks he'll move out around the age of 21.

While part of me is saddened to even start thinking about these things, I am very proud of Malcolm's sense of independence. While he does have some emotional attachment issues here and there, he seems to have a deeper intellectual understanding that some day, he will grow up and not need Mommy and Daddy so much anymore.

But, for now...I get to remain his #1 gal. I'll enjoy it while I can.

Memories...and time.

Malcolm I sat down last night and watched the Pixar Short Films. What a great time! First, we made this fun ice cream concoction:

My goodness - you'd think I was some sort of genius! Malcolm thought this was the coolest thing ever, and was so excited about it.

We cuddled up and watched the films, which included my favorite, "Jack-Jack Attack," from the Incredibles. For those of you unfamiliar, at the end of the short, a secret agent uses a memory-wipe device on someone. After this showed, the following exchange took place:

Me: "Do you remember when we used the memory eraser on you?

Malcolm: "No..."

Me: "Good, then it worked."

Malcolm: (pause) "What memory did you erase?"

Me: "You don't remember the accident?"

Malcolm: "What accident?"

Me: "Good...it worked. You don't remember."

Malcolm" TELL MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE...."

Heh.

So, we made the fun ice cream treat and cuddled up and watched Pixar films and then that was it - such a simple night. But Malcolm was soooo lovey-dovey to me before getting ready and going to bed - and then he prayed and thanked God for fun times with Mommy.

It struck me then that perhaps I stress out about this parenting thing a bit too much. (who? me?) I worry that we can't provide Malcolm with really cool experiences and vacations that some other families can, or that I'm not the uber-creative Mom that some of my friends are (I'm lookin' at you, Heather), or that I'm not even a stay-at-home mom. Last night taught me that all I have to do is be present with my son and do something together that we both enjoy.

Time with Mom is all he needs.

Exhibit A

Evidence my son is a genius:

Malcolm: "Fire melts ice, right?"

Me: "Yes."

Malcolm: "And water can put out fire, right?"

Me: "Yes"

Malcolm: "And ice IS water, right?"

Me: "Yes."

Malcolm: "Hmmm. That's interesting."

More evidence to come.

Happy Thanksgiving! I'm so grateful for my beautiful son!