I hate to talk about the inter-netz, because it’s boring, but I had kind of a shitty day online, overdosing on content by people whose work – I realize today – is ultimately not contributing to my mental and emotional health nor my growth as a strong, compassionate and wise person. It sucks to realize I need to cull, to change, to edit a bit of my consumption, because I feel like I’m cutting loose those who in many ways I admire. Still, having subjected myself today I now suffer a hangover but not from anything corporeal; rather, a spiritual malaise from words ingested, words bereft of deeper meaning but rehearsed hurts and seemingly cyclical suffering and other-centered blaming.
I get so depressed with how the American mainstream conversation – everywhere I go – frames children (when it deigns to consider them at all). Sometimes it seems as I’m one of the few parents who truly enjoys most every moment with my children and truly has almost every moment with them (waking and sleeping). I’m going on a decade now of living life with them! I don’t make jokes (not sure if I ever did) about shitty teen years or when I’ll be “free again” when they’ve moved out. If I ever felt that way before I don’t now.
What’s wrong with me? Everywhere I look kids are either dismissed, dehumanized, sentimentalized (the latter is really a combination for the former two for our own convenience) – or erased. Parents act like it’s so much work and drama to orchestrate their kids’ lives (and it is!), but I don’t relate because I don’t do this anymore. Fathers absent themselves from nurture; we modern ladies are told we’re supposed to aspire to such separation from progeny, grab at “me time”. Work in-home is worth than far less than a paid and status-y career (middle class conversations don’t much concern themselves with jobs that aren’t terribly thrilling, jobs many Americans work), that if we take care of children we necessarily won’t have time to do more important stuff: earning, activism, brain-learninz (so I guess: so much for the idea women are strong and multitasking superheroes). “Mommy bloggers” are mocked or dismissed (and I guess, as someone who’s loved publishing my journal online for eight or so years to much personal reward and thanks from readers, I qualify as such), our concerns trivialized and sneered at.
So today I’m realizing the activist circles I glean my readings from are too narrow: depressingly bereft of anything but cosmetic cares for children for all their lip service to “intersectionality”. I’m gradually weaning off those who don’t take child rights and child stewardship seriously when it’s brought up (as many, many don’t) because you know what? – There are those who do. Few and far between, perhaps, but when I find them how wise, wonderful, and inspiring they are.
***
Many countries have outlawed discrimination based on gender and race, but still allow discrimination based on age. What justification is there for the assumption that anyone older than a teenager knows best what is good for those who are younger? Our adult grasp of life makes us feel superior to young people, and we use that to justify the substitution of our priorities for theirs. – October 31st, Wendy Priesnitz on Twitter (here, and so on…).
***
If any sensible person thinks deeply, he will respect justice. There is an inborn appreciation and respect for justice within our human body. In children, we find what is natural to be human character. But as they grow up, they develop a lot of conditioning and wrong attitudes. I often feel there is more truthfulness in a small child and I find reasons to have confidence in human courage and human nature. – His Holiness the Dalai Lama
***
Here’s some more from my life:
Last night my son was up late whispering in my ear. He kept telling me how much he loved me, and that he couldn’t wait to take me on “a date” (in our house a “date” refers anything one-on-one). He told me what restaurant he wanted to take me to. He asked me what I’d order. He told me what he’d order. It was his big Plan. I held him and felt him entirely bony and warm and not like anything else I could hold in my arms. So: a date tomorrow then.
I had nineteen dollars in my wallet. But I figured I’d have to make it work.
During the night he’d say in his sleep, “Is it time for our date?” He’d put his hands on me and drift back to Slumbertown, Population Nels.
This morning I was fortunate to have the car while Ralph bussed to work. After getting showered and dressed and putting some work in and some sewing done and spending too much time reading online and cooking up and putting aside breakfast for Phoenix and hemming some pants and sending birthday post, I was pretty excited to go out with with my son. At some point he popped straight of out bed, jumped up and dressed, brushed his teeth and hair and put on his newest homesewn coat and we stepped out into the sunshine. And I was treated to quite the conversational stream, Nels prattling along about pirates and parrots (the latter apparently serve as translator between the former and the ship’s crew, since pirates only say “Arrr!”), Minecraft, weather, animal husbandry, and parenting.
“Daddy told me he posted on Facebook you shouldn’t hit kids, and some people posted and said you SHOULD hit kids,” he told me (referring to Ralph’s anti-spanking linked article and polemic some time ago).
“Oh,” I said, surprised he was thinking of this now. “And what you you think?”
“Grownups shouldn’t hit kids,” he replied. I looked in the rearview mirror to see his brow a small thundercloud under his blonde hair. Consternation.
“What happens when they hit kids?” I asked. “Do you think kids get scared or angry?”
“They get angry,” he said emphatically. Then: “Angry enough they might kill themselves. Because they just want it to stop.”
So.
At the restaurant Nels was the soul of courtesy, including gently reminding me to keep my elbows off the table, which I found hilarious considering here is a child who will slither to the floor now and then out of his seat (from boredom). He ordered pink lemonade and a personal pizza, asking for half the pizza in a box to take home to his father. I ordered fettucine and a salad. He said “please and thank you” to the waiter (without prompting of course). He asked if fingernails were bones. I told him about keratin, amazed I had one fact in my head that could be of use to him. He asked me about nutrition for dental health. We talked about green leafy vegetables. Just when I thought I couldn’t be having a better time he carefully pushed his lemonade close to me, then his plate – and came over to my side of the booth. “I love you,” he said, simply. A serenity beyond space and time.
He paid (with my cash), walking the leather billfold to the server, smiling, laughing. I slipped to the restroom while he settled the bill and while away the phone rang and he answered. “Is Mama there?” my husband asks. “Yes,” says Nels. “Who’s dis?”
Then: my son and I step out into the sunshine to head back home to my daughter, stopping at the Post Office for mail and City Hall to pay the water bill. I peel off twenties and remember my father, who paid most things in a huge bundle of cash.
Another day and another chance to appreciate those things deeply meaningful; trivial and sublime. Living and breathing.
These:
“What justification is there for the assumption that anyone older than a teenager knows best what is good for those who are younger?”
“I told him about keratin, amazed I had one fact in my head that could be of use to him.”
…remind me of how often Kylie asks me questions that I can’t answer on the spot. I generally tell her that I have a guess (and share that guess) and then add that we can look it up later and we usually do.
Answers lead to more questions. It’s only natural. Kylie will ask me anything because she knows I will listen and answer (or help her find the answer). I think a lot of the ignoring of children that goes on these days is the primary cause of teenagers “not listening” to their parents. Why should they listen to someone that won’t listen to them?
I made some huge parenting mistakes with my oldest, but one thing that I did correctly was listen, answer and tell the truth. She may avoid me when she has news that she thinks will disappoint me (due to our history), but she alway comes to me when she wants someone to tell it like it is. She knows that I have no agenda other than giving her the best information possible to help her make her own decision. You know…the way you give advice to an adult. 😉
Whether it’s a 2-year-old asking for confirmation that the toy in his had is indeed a duck or a 16-year-old asking why she can’t drive the family car to the lake for the weekend, I offer the same kind of answer…the truth. I’m willing to discuss disagreements on that truth. I am also willing to admit I am wrong (if I am, which hardly ever happens). 🙂
When kids are told to “shut up”, “be quiet”, “stop asking so many questions”, eventually they do just that. “Because I said so” begins to lose it’s effect once they realize that you in fact do not know everything after all. I say, the next time an “adult” feels like telling a kid to shut up, that person should shut their own mouth and have a listen for a change. It makes for some surprisingly interesting conversation if you give that kid a chance.
My most recent favorite:
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Why do they call it Desert Mountain Park?”
“I don’t know the history of the park, but the person that named it must have thought it sounded nice.”
Pause…
“But I don’t see a mountain. Where is it?”
“You make an excellent point. There isn’t one. I guess we’ll have to look it up.”
I think that you’re right in saying that parents dismiss kids on a regular basis.
However, I think there is something bigger behind what some of the parents say about “shitty teen years”. My parents were fairly reasonable, for old school parents. My brother chose to do things that didn’t respect the other members of the family and generally made life miserable for the entire family. Yes, he had issues that were causing his behavior and most of it has straightened out as he got older. I make a huge effort to not escalate things and yell when I’m frustrated with my kids because I still remember my dad and my brother yelling at each other. Like, when my brother, P., was 18 and had just finished high school. He still lived at home and he shared a room with S., who is about 18 months older. Anyway, P. was asleep and it was about 3 am when S. came home, turned on all the lights in the room and his radio. P. had to get up early to go to his job and asked S. to please turn off the lights and radio because he needed to get up in 2 hours. S. immediately got hostile and escalated the problem, until they were about to come to blows. My dad had already told them that they weren’t allowed to fight in the house, so P. told S. that if it was going to come to a fistfight they should go outside. They went out and were fighting in the street. I should state that P. is generally a very peaceful person but S. must have really pushed his buttons 1 too many times. The were so loud that they woke my dad in the house, who came out to separate them. Apparently they didn’t even acknowledge he was there, so he had to go into the house, get a bamboo pole and whack it between them when they separated for a moment. It wasn’t until he raised it and P. unknowingly walked into it, that they stopped fighting.
All of that could have been avoided if S. had chosen to be respectful, rather than selfish and act like a dick. That’s 1 example of my brother’s refusal to respect others as a teen, and it started at a very young age. I don’t know why, since my parents were fairly respectful of others, including us.
I see it now with Maeve – the unreasonableness that can manifest. Yesterday she chose to jack around and read, rather than get ready for school. I like that she reads a lot but she often makes the choice to read rather than do what she’s supposed to do. She requires constant supervision to do the smallest thing, like get dressed. Even if she didn’t go to school, this is a problem when we have places to go (doctor, dentist, etc.) on a time schedule. I have to supervise Gwyn and T-bird with meals and such, plus do my own showering and getting dressed. A 10 year-old should be able to get dressed and get herself breakfast – as Phoenix clearly demonstrates. Maeve chose to mess around and I chose to allow her to see the consequences of her choices. By the time I informed her that it was time to go, she hadn’t eaten. Then she was upset. I told her calmly that she had to make a choice: eat breakfast and be late and suffer any consequences for being late, or be on time but be hungry until lunchtime. She screamed at me that I wasn’t letting her eat. For quite a while she screamed and I calmly re-explained: it’s your choice. You chose to read so you chose to not be able to eat and be on time. Now you have to choose to be late or be hungry. You need to own your choice, because you are the one who controls you. She wasted so much time screaming and being hysterical that she ended up being late and hungry.
I want her to own her choices and learn how to be independent of my supervision. This is more important now since she’ll be in middle school next year and they start earlier. I’ll have a baby to nurse and the other 2 to get ready for the day and just won’t be able to devote as much 1-on-1 time to getting her out the door. But right now, it makes every morning the shittiest couple of hours and makes me feel sick, since I feel like I’m failing her in some way. So I can relate to the idea that a parent would want to be ‘unburdened’ or whatever in that way. I just want to be released from the negative feelings that her behavior generates. I don’t know what drives her to the behavior but I wish I did so I could foster some kind of change. Because I really hate crying every morning.
““I love you,†he said, simply. A serenity beyond space and time.” . yes! that is exactly how i would describe moments such as those w/ Eli – thank you for putting it so eloquently into words.
as to when the kids leave the house – well, not only do i not understand those parents who dream of the day, the day when my children no longer live with me, and even possibly live so far i see them only rarely is a dark future – a time i shudder when i think of because i so greatly enjoy seeing, and hugging, and talking with them everyday.
Kelly, I dreamed about you last night – that I was reading the celebrity-penned introduction to a book about you and your “by now well-known to all” theories and writings about children and parenting. (I wish I could remember who it was!) I woke up feeling so hopeful.
I want you to know that our family is facing some hard decisions about work-for-pay and family time, and your writing absolutely has changed how I think about it and the confidence I have in expressing my views to my husband and other family members. I’m so grateful for the challenge to think radically and not always do the “easiest” thing.
Love hearing about your date with Nels, you really capture the love I feel for my son, so sweet, limitless, and wild.
@Jen
I had a rough few teen years. But teens don’t spring from their father’s forehead like Athena did; in other words, just because the symptoms can suddenly look rather large (or can be destructive to self and others) in those years doesn’t mean trouble wasn’t brewing long before. My own parents weren’t terribly responsive to my needs and persona as a child. I write, and reach out, to help parents avoid suffering for themselves and their children (hence Carrie’s comment made me quite happy).
It sounds like your new pregnancy is igniting worries about how things are going to work for you and your children. I remember being TERRIFIED when I was pregnant with Nels. So scared. My unemployment benefits were almost up, my husband was taking a new job with more hours, I didn’t think I was that good of a mom to my 2 yr. old and here I had another on the way and I knew enough about babies THIS time, and about myself, to worry. I remember confessing these fears at this small lady-Bible study I went to. The women there… such great ladies. They listened to my worries and they were so accepting and loving. I don’t remember what any of them said but their acceptance and presence and love – I do remember that. I needed to make that confession.
In reliving this memory today (thank you for that), I’m reminded sometimes I need to embrace and accept my fears rather than dust them over with the detritus of my busy life and my busy mind and hope the fears somehow dissipate or don’t delbiliate!
I’m not offering advice here but just telling you… I experienced a variety of anxieties as my family grew, too.
@Kidsync
“I think a lot of the ignoring of children that goes on these days is the primary cause of teenagers ‘not listening’ to their parents. Why should they listen to someone that won’t listen to them?”
No kidding. Depending on the child, the “adult knows best” thing also can be condescending and infuriating or, conversely, inform children the world is Scary and Someone Else is the expert (instead of learning the shape and scope of one’s own abilities, autonomy, self-knowledge, etc). Either way such worldviews are highly toxic as organizing principles of parenting and care.
I love your back-and-forth about the park and its (missing) mountain. I love those kinds of conversation, that presence, amusement and wonder. I am able to dismiss my roles of “expert” and “grownup” and see the world anew. It’s wonderful. My children are so much smarter than I so often!
@deb
Kids are very fortunate to live with grownups who experience them this way. I smile when I think of my children’s futures, whether it is near or far (I will miss them if it’s far, but it is okay to miss someone, too). I smile thinking of your children’s futures too.
@Carrie
Ha… oh no, I mean I’m happy to help people but I can’t imagine publishing a book. That is such a flattering light you hold me in. And I’m so happy to think I am helping you in any way in navigating your family’s future. Times are hard for many families right now! It seems not a day goes by I don’t hear of a job or a home lost or a school struggling or a child struggling. One wonderful thing about experiencing so much less anxiety and pressure in my own family life is I feel much better equipped to offer love and compassion and presence to others in my life, including these grownups and families who are under pressure.
@Jen
“She requires constant supervision to do the smallest thing, like get dressed.”
Please let us know if you find a resolution for this. Kylie is only 5 but we have the same struggle. It’s a confusing issue for me because she drags her feet even when our destination is something she is looking forward to. I’ve asked her why she chooses to play when I have made it clear that we have limited time, but I always get the standard “I don’t know” answer. I continue to think it’s some kind of control issue, as if she wants to make the decision of when we get ready and leave OR she still hasn’t grasped the concept of the fleeting nature of time. Possibly both, neither or maybe she just wants to play.
If I figure it out I’ll send you an email. It may not apply to a 10-year-old or your situation, but may spawn new ideas.
ah, kelly goddamned hogaboom, i love reading your words. thank you so much for the story about your date with nels. it made my day. can i come live at your house and marry you all?
i hope you all are splendidly well and getting as much of the anything you need as you possibly can.
seriously. every time a new post from you arrives in my feed reader it’s like christmas, except better. in this, i am the exemplar of gratitude.
s*
Well that’s pretty awesome praise! Thank you.
You know, I need to write down my dates with my kids. And all the other good stuff. And bad stuff. I like (re-) reading and remembering. It’s amazing how quickly life flies by.