What My Parents Did Right

SteveG's comment on last week's post about discipline put me on a mental train of thought that has clarified and contextualized a whole bunch of ideas that have been stewing in my brain for a while now. In the interest of this whole blogging-more-often thing I'm trying, I thought I'd share.

My parents are excellent parents. Not perfect, of course - a perfect parent is an impossibility because a perfect person is an impossibility - but pretty darn awesome. I attribute to them many, many good things that I have learned and become over the years. Most importantly, they can be credited for teaching me to love God, others, and myself in an ordered way. This is an ability by which the quality of human existence is measured, most vitally at the end of every person's life. If, by the grace of God, I reach heaven some day, much of the credit for it must go to my parents.

And the reason they could do what they did so well is, I've finally realized, largely due to the way they approached the task of being parents to us children: not as a job at which they might fail or excel, but as a relationship. It was important to them not that they *achieve* in any outwardly visible way, but that they *love* to the best of their ability. The quality of their parenting would ultimately be self-measured not by the impressiveness of anything we children did or became, but by the quality of our relationships with God and those around us, which would be a reflection of and a reflection upon our relationships with our parents themselves.

They made what are, culturally, some fairly unorthodox choices, not least of which was the decision to be open to as many children as they had. With today's high-pressure attitude toward parenting, it seems like a lot of people understandably feel overwhelmed by the idea of more than a couple of kids. The array of things to "get right" is dizzying. To make the exactly correct combination of research-endorsed parenting choices with one or two children is daunting; to make it six or eight times over seems impossible. But my parents, by being able to see past the societally standard idea of parenting, were able to embrace the idea of a big family without fear, and thus to provide us with one of the best advantages of our childhood, the fact that there were so many of us. The necessary decrease of material goods and opportunities was a small price to pay for the way that my parents loved us better by welcoming all of us. Having my siblings to love is one of the best blessings of my life, and it didn't hurt that growing up as part of a passel of children provided daily object lessons in the importance of selflessness and the truth that love is not finite.

Mom and Dad did some other unusual things besides just having a bunch of us. For instance, throughout all the years I lived at home, I never had a curfew. This was not because my parents didn't care where I was or what I'd be doing. We talked about those things, and occasionally the discussion would include a mention of when I should be home (although they never once stayed up to check that I was home on time) but in general, I was in charge of my own nights, and did not have a curfew on weekends or in summer. Some of my friends thought this was crazy, and I'm sure some of their parents did too, but to me - and to my parents as well, I think - it wasn't about the rule or the lack thereof. Giving me the authority to make my own decisions about when to come home at night was the natural continuation of a relationship we'd spent a decade and a half building. They trusted me to make good decisions, just as I trusted them to support me and love me no matter what. I did make good decisions, too. My parents might have been surprised if they had known just how late I sometimes chose to come home (or maybe not - I've been surprised in retrospect to learn just how much they knew) but they wouldn't have been at all surprised or displeased by the things I was doing. It was important to me that I not disappoint them, even when I was doing things they'd never find out about. They must have known this, and so the lack of curfew was not an act of irresponsibility but an act of trust on my parents' part, and one that had a net positive on our relationship and the development of my character.

So my parents did some stuff that is not normally considered award-winning parenting, yet it was! (Well, they haven't won any awards yet as far as I know, but look how well I turned out! Shouldn't that count for something?) But my point, in case it's gotten obscured here, is not that good parents make the choices my parents made. No, my point in using those two examples of unorthodox choices that turned out to be good is this: being a good parent is not about the choices. It's about the relationship. I'm not making a banner that says "No Curfews for All! Kids Will Turn Out GREAT!" But for me personally, forgoing the curfew was an excellent choice, and my parents didn't care about whether it would make them look irresponsible. They were willing to buck a cultural norm (although if you knew my parents, you'd know that bucking cultural norms is more a way of life for them than it is an act of bravery) for the sake of their relationship with me, not to make me like them but to show me that they trusted me and expected me to be responsible for living up to the standards they'd set for my life. And it worked really, really well.

I think I've mentioned before that the only piece of parenting advice my father has ever given me was "trust yourself." I took it to heart, figuring that advice from Dad would help me to be the kind of parent he is, and his words have been my talisman through the past twenty months. They're my best weapon against doubt and against feeling overwhelmed.

But the funny thing is, I've just realized that I might not have fully understood the truth of what my dad was trying to tell me. I took "trust yourself" to mean that I should make confident choices, that knowing myself to be competent, I should be able to relax in the knowledge that I could do this job well.

While my dad would probably agree with that statement, I don't think it's what he really meant. He wasn't intending that I should take comfort in the fact that I could *do* parenting well; he was intending that I should take comfort in the fact that I could *be* a parent well. Because - the strangeness of its various requisite tasks notwithstanding - being a parent is not something radically new. I've spent my whole life learning to love those around me, learning that what is important is not how I act upon them but how I respond to them, learning to be a bigger, better person through relationships. Being a parent is merely a continuation of that. In some ways it is radically new, most notably in the shock of the huge, overwhelming love I have for Camilla and in the enormity of the fact that I am responsible for her. But those things don't change the truth: before she came along, I already knew how to do this. I knew how to be needed, I knew how to have a conversation, I knew how to love and be loved.

Trusting myself means resting secure in that knowledge, and letting all the minutiae of parenthood fall into place in light of the love we have for our daughter and the love she has for us, and our real dedication to putting that love first and growing it in an ordered way.

And that's why, as my father himself (hope it's okay that I outed you, Dad!) puts it so eloquently, debating the minutiae is conducting the discussion on the wrong axis. That's not to say that information can't be useful, but ultimately, *what* decisions we make as parents will never be as important as *why* we make them, because it's the foundation of our relationships with our children that makes all the difference. To me, anyway, that's a remarkably freeing realization.

Comments

[jessica]

I've been reading your blog for a while now and now I'm delurking! I think our parents either read the same parenting book or are long lost best friends. They had a very similiar parenting style (no curfews, letting me make my own choices...but not wanting to disappoint them, etc.) and it was like I was reading about my own parents on your blog. Besides that, I do have to say I have very much enjoyed your blog! I hope you had a great weekend! Jessica

[Lisa]

I was blessed to have a similar relationship with my parents growing up. It was definitely a contrast to many of my friends' experience, which is why they rebelled or acted out and I never felt the need to do that. Thanks for giving us something to think about. Great post.

[Catie H]

What a great post! Beautifully fitted for Father's Day :)

[jennifer]

I especially like two of your points--number one being the difference between what and why. Kids know the difference between a good why and a bad one. They just do. Studies show that children who have a parent who died young fare much better than children who had a parent walk out. They both come from single parent households but they understand the why very clearly and it makes a difference.

A parent who times out to punish (to use the Prince of the West's helpful distinction) is going to get a much different outcome than a parent who uses time out to firmly show consequences for bad behavior.

Number 2 of Arwen's Good Points of the Day is about family size. When people become very enamored of parenting philosophies and strongly defined parenting styles having more than two or three kids can seem absolutely daunting (particularly to the parent who is staying home) because their energy is going in the wrong direction. I have to parent THIS way because its the "right" way--even if that "way" is obviously draining and apparently ineffective.

If their energy goes in a good, orderly direction, the cost would appear nothing to the reward.

That's not to say even good, orderly, loving parenting is not abso-freakin'-lutely exhausting. It just comes with a higher reward than a mere: "I'm parenting correctly"--it comes with love and learning and being torn down and built back up again. For both parent and child.

[Star]

I absolutely agree that it's all about the relationship you have with your kids, and that all the decisions we make as parents need to take the health of that relationship into account. I think too few people get that, and too many think that having a loving, trusting relationship with your child in which you show him or her respect while you are providing guidance is "being a friend instead of a parent." Which is hogwash. I hope to heaven my child considers me a close friend when he is an adult, in the sense that he thinks of me as someone who he can talk to freely, come to with problems, and from and to whom he can get and give advice. My parenting bible is Alfie Kohn's Unconditional Parenting -- I highly recommend it to anyone who's interested in learning more about how to parent in such a way as to further (and not undermine) the long-term goals we all have for our kids.

[Robyn]

"A parent who times out to punish (to use the Prince of the West's helpful distinction) is going to get a much different outcome than a parent who uses time out to firmly show consequences for bad behavior."

I didn't get much sleep last night so could you elaborate on this? I don't understand the difference.

Arwen, beautiful post. However, I think that so many generations of American parents have been pushing their children away to foster independence at an early age that parenting as you describe would not come as naturally as it should.

[hydrogeek]

Thanks for these posts and those commentors who chimed in so helpfully. This has helped me gel several ideas in my head about discipline, and I also greatly appreciated the thought from Ms. Shaffer on the last post about 'time-ins'. As the parent to an 18 month old, all of this is just coming to the forefront, and having this kind of discussion is exactly what my brain needs to figure it all out.

Like the others said, your dad's comment about punish vs. consequence is very helpful. http://hedra.typepad.com/hands_full_of_rocks/
This lady's post of June 15 also has some very good ideas about backwards vs. forwards thinking in discipline, and why would you use a discipline tactic they will outgrow if you don't have to.

Lots of good stuff out there, but it seems like very little of it is in parenting books!

[jennifer]

Robyn--I'm actually borrowing the distinction from another commenter whom Arwen references in the post. From my point of view this difference is a subtle one of intention. In the first case one is punishing out of anger in the second one is using the time out as a reasonable response to a behavior that must not be allowed for the child's own benefit.

The idea that I'm positing--that there IS a difference--is predicated on the notion that a child knows the difference and I believe that they do. From a remarkably young age they can tell when something is done in anger and for selfish reasons or when something is done rationally and lovingly.

This is what Arwen's dad is talking about (I think) when he talks about the details of discipline (to time out or not time out to spank or not to spank) existing on the wrong "axis" of the parenting discussion--its more about the intention behind the disciplinary action and not the disciplinary approach.

[Becki]

I have not had the honor of meeting you or your family personally, but from everything I've read on your blog and your mom's, you sound like a wonderful, warm, loving family. Although I had a wonderful family of my own, I still learn so much about how to be a good mom from you and from yours.

[PrinceOfTheWest]

Close. The question of motive is part of it, but not the core. The core issue is more subtle.

One thing that has amazed me since before we began our family has been how much fear modern parents live under. It's almost assumed that parenting means living in this constant atmosphere of fear: fear that something's going to happen to their child, fear that they'll do something to damage their child, fear that they'll somehow "fail" parenting. I don't know if this finds its source psychological theories, or modern social attitudes, or what, but it's a terrible thing, and I think part of the reason why people dread even the thought of parenting.

I'm sure this tendency has many roots, but I think I know some of them. Part of it has to do with our cultural mistrust of the person. Some centuries ago, an attitude began to rise that said that people were not as trustworthy as systems. A person could fail you, but a properly implemented procedure (or process, or system, or protocol) would not. This attitude showed up particularly in workplaces and governments, but it eventually crept into the home.

There it took the form of doubt - doubt cast on the parent's ability to parent. "You untrained, inexperienced neophyte! What makes you think you can do something as vital as parenting? What if you FAIL?!?!? Better not leave something this important to mere chance!" So parents were encouraged not to trust themselves, but to trust "the system", where "the system" was some protocol or process defined by some expert(s) in accord with some set of principles. Raising children would no longer be a chancy, suspect operation that depended on some frail, inexperienced human for success. Now all the parents had to do was follow the procedure, and the outcome would be guaranteed! After all, this principle worked for manufacturing flashlights - why shouldn't it work for raising children?

This outlook had two devestating effects. One is that it put something betweeen the parents and the children. Parents were no longer loving beings in their children's lives - now they were operators of the system which was being trusted to produce the proper outcome. Children were not treasured as individual beings, but as objects being manipulated by the process toward an end.

The other devestating effect was that this just moved the parent's fears to a different place Hoodwinked into not trusting their own innate parenting instincts and trading it in for a process mentality, they now faced a different fear: what if they're doing the process wrong? Or (worse yet) - what if they chose the wrong process? This book said to follow this process and the outcome would be guaranteed, but we're not seeing the desired outcome, and now this other book says the first book was all wrong, and that means we've been doing it all wrong. Hence the parents live in a nearly constant state of fear, certain that their own instincts are untrustworthy but not knowing if the system(s) they're using to substitute for them are adequate, or being properly implemented.

This is why I never cracked a "parenting book" during the entire raising of our large family. Seriously - not one. I'd see articles in magazines, and I'd scoff at them. I knew there was something inadequate about them, and though I might not have been able to articulate it quite this well, that was it. I was rejecting the modern parenting paradigm at the root. Humans cannot be raised by processes, they can only be raised by loving people. God ordained parents primarily for this, but also aunts, uncles, family friends, and all manner of others to simply love children into adulthood.

That is the primary meaning of what I meant when I spoke of the discussion being on the wrong axis. To debate on parenting process vs. another is to yeild the debate to falsehood. We need to reclaim parenting for the lovers: the parents and other adults who love these precious children. We need to stop worrying about whether we're "doing parenting right" because parenting isn't something that's "done" - at least in the modern sense.

[jennifer]

Awesome PotW--thanks for clarifying so eloquently.

[KidKate]

I just quoted your dad on discipline vs punishment (thank you, Prince of the West) to my husband!

Although I grew up with practically no religion (my parents were Unitarians--and atheists) and by a single mom until I was 12, my family practiced many of the same principles with regard to trust and relationship building. Funny that a Catholic family with 8 (8?) children in Michigan could have so much in common with a Unitarian single parent of 1 down in Texas!

[KidKate]

I just quoted your dad on discipline vs punishment (thank you, Prince of the West) to my husband!

Although I grew up with practically no religion (my parents were Unitarians--and atheists) and by a single mom until I was 12, my family practiced many of the same principles with regard to trust and relationship building. Funny that a Catholic family with 8 (8?) children in Michigan could have so much in common with a Unitarian single parent of 1 down in Texas!

[ladywithasong]

Arwen, you are blog land's Anna Quindlen. Truly. I love your writing and I wish I could invite you over for coffee :) Unfortunately, that's a bit far. Maybe when I was living in Ann Arbor... but Vancouver, BC is a bit of a trek for a cup of joe with a stranger.

Nonetheless...

Cheers, my dear. I hope you keep writing for a very long time.