Full Contact Parenting

After having stayed up far too late last night, I stumbled downstairs to start the day for our four children…you know the drill - supervising the lunch preparations (I will not enable my children to be helpless, therefore they have been making their own lunches since they were in first grade, with some motherly guidance as needed), making sure everyone eats a good breakfast (something that is becoming harder and harder to do as the girls get further in high school), reminding the child whose morning it is to empty our clean dishwasher that they need to get a move on, and seeing that everyone is keeping an eye on the clock for rides and buses. We also try to do the once-over on the day ahead, in order to avoid getting caught off guard by forgotten activities or appointments - that would usually be me

Typically when I am in this state of “the walking dead”, the simple, yet therapeutic act of preparing my morning fix (taking out the grinder, carefully measuring my three scoops of beans and the music the beans make as they are ground to a not so fine pulp, carefully putting grounds and H2O into my ridiculously complex coffee maker, pressing the on button…heating my skim milk…Oh…I absolutely adore the ritual) is enough to pry my eyes open - part way at least…today, however, the state of our family room did it for me, before I even made it to our kitchen.

Can you explain to me why, after years of repeating the rules, my children still leave the door open to the family room when they exit, and they still make the decision to leave their dirty i/c dishes, empty seltzer cans, and teacups out all night? Not to mention leaving the couch and ottoman in disarray, with pillows and books and papers strewn all over the place?

Perhaps you are thinking at this moment - what a whack job! This woman is far too fussy. Well, I would like to plead my case.

The first reason I can give, which all adult owners of dogs will understand, is this…we have three dogs who, for whatever reason, seem to find our family room far more inviting than any other place in our home. It has the only couch they simply MUST sleep on. If the door is closed, they happily make their bed on their DOG BED - which is by far large enough to accommodate all three. Unfortunately that is not the worst of it…the biggest problem is that our youngest dog often cannot seem to make it through the night (10pm til 6am) without needing to relieve himself…and while he simply raises his leg to table legs on uncovered floors and walls elsewhere, he finds the beautiful oriental rug in the family room the ideal place to empty his bladder.

I have successfully house trained more dogs than I care to count, and easily without the harsh methods even. This dog I just cannot figure out. There in lies my need for the door to the family room to be shut upon exiting. Who do you suppose ends up cleaning up those doggie calling cards? Exactly!

The other reason I am so fussy is this…It has been my experience that when parents make a habit of constantly picking up after their children, the children never learn to pick up after themselves. They grow into men who need their wives to constantly clean up after them or women who are at a loss as to how to maintain a home…either way the adult needs someone else to do the work for them. I do not feel it is my job to pick up after Andrew. He is perfectly capable of hanging up his clothes, his towel, etc. He can put his dirty dishes in the dishwasher after using them. I do not feel it is Andrew’s job to do the same for me, neither do I feel a cleaning service is a MUST have in order for our home to be tidy. It is a great perk, mind you, and certainly saves the family time and energy, but I was raised to be able to do without, should I find myself in that position.

All it takes is the general understanding that each person needs to be responsible for their own belongings, and if you’re lucky, you can teach everyone to just be nice once in a while and if they happen to see something where it does not belong - whether or not it is theirs - they can put it away. They don’t have to be nice all the time, but nice here and there is wonderful!

I grew up in a large home with lots of people, and the privilege of a house keeper and a yard man. When I was very young, and my mother was running back and forth between three different schools, my parents employed a cook. However, my parents were determined to teach my siblings and me to be self reliant. I was in charge of my bedroom, and we all had chores - vacuuming, dusting, cleaning bathrooms, ironing, washing windows, polishing silver and brass, mowing the lawn, weeding, garbage and compost duties,doing the dishes, etc. Some chores were daily, some weekly, and others done as needed, or when when we were looking to make extra money.

Our house keeper was there at least once a week, and seems to me maybe twice, but with so many children, a dog and such a large house, there was no way things would be kept in order if we weren’t all given the responsibility to be part of what made our home run. When I was a high school sophomore, after much frustration on my father’s part, I arrived home from school one day - having rec’d a ride from friends - to find the front lawn littered with all the junk I had let pile up over the week…clothes, books, etc. I had left lying around on the floor and piled up on my chair! Yep…he cartainly made his point, in a very public and embarrassing way, without saying a single word!

Working together to make a house a home, to make the family unit run smoothly, or as smoothly as it can in this crazy time…that is one of the expectations I have for all of us here. I don’t think it is too much to ask or unrealistic. However, I am finding our family is in the minority, at least in this area. I am constantly hearing back from other mothers that they love having my older daughters in their houses, as they converse easily with adults and are forever offering to help - “Could I help you clear the table? Do you need help with that?” they tell me. I am always asked, “How do you do that? My daughter just sits there.” When my friend Joanne lived in town, she was always complimenting my 13 year old step-son, telling me he was quick to put his dishes in the sink or dishwasher after having a snack with her son Charlie - she is a like minded mother and requires child participation. Turns out, whenever Joanne complimented him, my stepson would respond with a grin, “Well, Jeanne would kill me if I didn’t.”

I love being a mother. I love caring for my children, and seeing to their needs. Teaching them to walk, talk, learn their letters, numbers, and colors…all those things were great fun for me. Laundry…not so much fun. Having consistently worked to establish trust, I am someone they turn to when they really need help. That has been a great bonus of parenthood. While I drive them all over town - you can imagine how much driving I do with so many - I get to talk to them about their day, or their sibling issues, or “whatever”. When I am capable of helping them with a homework issue, call me silly, but I feel really great! I have even grown to enjoy preparing meals for my family. Just the act of putting it all together and sharing that meal, to me, is a way I show my love for them. The pay-back for teaching them manners - sorely lacking in their peers - has been very sweet.

I feel it is my job to teach our children to be thoughtful and considerate, willing and helpful, and self-reliant. Who else is going to do? They certainly do not learn by osmosis, and learning from example alone is not as successful these days since their peers, TV, and the internet are giving them much louder opposite examples.

If I spend all my day picking up their rooms, their clothes, their shoes, etc., and if I wait on them by always doing all their laundry and all the dishes, etc., what am I teaching them exactly? That I am their maid? A martyr? If something needs to be done around the house - say the leaves need raking or the patio swept or I am just behind and could use some help folding or ironing, what do the children learn if I am always doing and going, and therefore too overwhelmed to take time to talk to them or play a game or cook with them or watch a movie? If I do it all, I just don’t feel I am teaching my children to think outside themselves, nor do I feel I am teaching them the basic life lessons one needs. Do you know how many boys and girls go off to college and cannot for the life of them do their laundry?

So, you might now be asking yourself…well, how did she handle this lack of cooperation, this act of defiance? I waited until they were all downstairs, then I took them into the family room. First I showed them their dishes and the mess. Then I explained, for the hundredth time, what happens when they leave the door open to the family room at night. No yelling required, no swearing or rants of how many times have I told you, etc. They understood, apologized and quickly remedied the problem. They did not, however, offer to clear up the dog’s mess, but that’s no shocker.

I may seem too fussy, but from the beginning, I have always been up front with what my expectations were for our family. Each girl learned where her toys and books belonged in her room by the time she was two. Was it child labor? No. By giving responsibility, within the limits of what is appropriate for that age, I gave my daughters the chance to succeed at independence early. They felt proud. They felt a sense of ownership. We would put on music and laugh and dance while the books were placed back in the basket or on the shelf, and the toys were dropped into the box. No biggie.

Was it always easy to teach? Were they always eager to do what I asked? No, and they still aren’t always eager…give me a break! There are plenty of days when I do raise my voice b/c I am sure no one has heard me or I get way too much flack for simply asking someone to do something. My children are not perfect, nor are they robots. And when they really test me by stepping way out of bounds, I yank them right back in where they belong.

One thing I know from my own experience and from watching my friends with their children is this…while it is far easier to just do it yourself, the pay-off only comes when you stop and take the time to let them be a responsible member of the family. You may not get any argument when you just do it all yourself, and for sure it will get done in at least half the time, and the way YOU want it - therefore it is quick and peaceful - but it all catches up with you in the end. I promise. I’ve seen it happen so many times.

How am I so sure I am right? Ask my 16 year old daughter. She told me, not too long ago, how glad she was that I was her mom…that I have taught her to do for herself, taught her to listen, and taught her about family. She told me she certainly does not always like what I say or the rules I have (my favorite quote…”You are just a fun SUCKER!), but in time she often finds that it all makes sense. I think she feels safer and more prepared to face the obstacles in her way as a teenager in the 21st century.

Perhaps the most obvious sign I am on to something, is my 14 year old. She is smarter, quicker and faster than most…certainly than her mother. She is impatient, often self-involved and more interested in her friends at this time in her life (my favorite quote…”You’re just living in the old days…it’s not normal any more. None of my friends have to do stuff with THEIR families!). All pretty typical teen behavior. But I have worked hard to teach the girls that while this may be typical, it is not necessary, and it can often lead to hurt feelings and disappointment, if not trouble. Last year during one of our intense conversations about relationships within the family and responsibility, she told me, “Not all my friends are very nice to their mothers. Some of them can be pretty rude. It’s not very nice. I really do try”

What I do is not rocket science. It is a lot like what my parents did with my siblings in the 60’s and with me in the 70’s…they expected us to show up and be present. They believed in the family and how important it is in shaping our lives. Family first, all else second.

My three daughters have taught me a lot about parenting in the past 16 years. In fact, I can honestly state each day is a new adventure. Full contact parenting is the way my husband describes my style…I get in there up to my elbows and never give a thought to how messy it will be. Frankly, I am not sure how one can do it any other way! One of my favorite quotes is “parenting is not for the faint of heart”. I am not sure who said it first, but my father use to say something to that effect. He also said it about marriage.

This is my first day writing on my blog. I hope this post goes the way I planned. I have many ideas, and it is hard to stay focused.

The day is nearly over, and as our evening has worn on, one of our three dogs is snoring in the corner, and my husband has been at my side for an hour helping me set up this blog. This is NOT normal! Usually by now I am in the thick of things - dinner has come and gone, dishes are done so it is the time when I am managing my youngest daughter’s homework, checking on my step-son, seeing if my middle girl might feel like communicating, and often having a quick chat about “whatever” with my eldest…all the while I am keeping in mind that my youngest needs to be in bed by 8pm (HA!), and I need to keep an ear out for potential fires that might erupt on the third floor (domain of the two oldest girls).

Oh…and there’s Andrew, my husband. He’s in there too After supper he usually reads one of his 10,000 books and writes. When everyone is tucked in, we will watch a movie together or talk about an important issue of the day or, more likely, I will fall asleep while we are doing one of those things!

Tonight, I find I have a reprieve from the usual… the children are in various stages of studying, winding down and chat mode, from the first floor all the way up to the third. No one is needing me! Just across the hall my 13 year old step-son, is helping my 10 year old, find facts for her Science assignment. They are huddled over his iBook G4 laptop, and he is patiently walking her through with suggestions here and there, yet not actually giving her the answers…he is a born teacher, but hasn’t figured it out yet. My eldest, has spent much of the evening with them, doing her thing quietly, but now has ventured up to the third floor. My middle girl, has been ensconced up there since supper ended, finishing homework and keeping up with her buddies on facebook.

As I write tonight, I feel serene knowing things are good…the two youngest of my brood are working together, no arguing, no fussing, no yelling, etc. And what do you know…there is not one peep making its way down from the third floor An added plus is that my husband and I have been working on this project together and I have not fallen asleep!

When I entered into this new marriage, complete with three step-children, I was not sure how my three girls would fare. I am from a blended family; not something one saw much of in the 1960’s. My father was married before, with a son, and my mother with two daughters and a son. They married in 1960 and, I think, just went into the blended family thing full force. I doubt they ever really gave it much thought - would anyone feel left out, pushed aside, jealous, etc? Certainly no one entered into family counseling in those days. My father raised us all, with the exception of my eldest brother who lived in Ill. and visited on vacations. In mid 1962 my parents decided - yes, they actually had a discussion - to add one child to their menagerie, and…I was born.

One of my sisters has always told me, “when you were born we became a family.” I am not really sure if they all actually felt that way most of the time, but as the youngest of many, yet also very much the only child, it has made me feel loved and wanted always. While there was much conflict in our home over all kinds of stuff (after all it was the 60’s and 70’s, and my parents were from that famous GREATEST GENERATION, so their rules did not always make for happy campers), I had a really nice childhood and remember a true feeling of us being a family…never them vs. me, but us as a whole. I have no idea how my parents did it, and I know not everyone was happy all the time, but I had a family, and I am pretty sure every one of us felt part of that and felt loved.

Yet, even with my history, I was not prepared for what lay ahead…merging two households into one big happy family. Ha!

Step-parenting and parenting are not always congenial. I mean, they had their rules and regulations and we had ours. In fact, quite frankly, the two households worked perfectly fine all on their own, independent of one another.

My husband, Andrew, and his former wife had their routine down pat. They both worked - he from home and she was in grad school. They did not employ a nanny, managing their two youngest sort of by the seat of their pants…at least that is what it seemed to me. Their second daughter was in a local private day school and their son was in the public school system, where he remains today.

Andrew had the children every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. His former wife had them every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Sunday was the “toggle”day - they took turns every other week. They celebrated birthdays, recitals, and even part of the holidays together. In many aspects they remained very much a family unit, although both parents had moved one and had other relationships. In fact, during the time after they divorced and were dating other people, before they met and remarried, they worked as a team and as a family, as best they could. It just sort of happened. They were very flexible and never really kept score if one or the other needed to trade nights. When I got involved with Andrew that arrangement made my head spin, but they had been doing it for three years and no one complained. In their world it worked.

The girls and I inhabited a totally different plane. My former husband and I had, what might be termed, a more old-fashion custody arrangement…the girls were with me basically all the time, with weekly overnights on Tuesdays and every other weekend with their dad. They missed their dad terribly and I know it was hard for him, but we felt in our hearts this was the best decision. I cannot say it was ideal all the way around, but now as I look back on it I have come to the conclusion it was the best thing. And my daughters agree. I have not asked their father…perhaps one day I will.

Time, experience, and much research have taught me that children need stability in their lives…more than anything they need to have a feeling of a real foundation, a sense of place. Not a lot of coming and going. It does not work in most cases when children are young to have them moving back and forth between parents, constantly trying to remember what they need, when they need it and where. A sense of confusion eventually sets in.

It is a really hard call. Fathers and mothers both want to be as active and involved as possible and no one wants to “give up” their children. When I married Andrew, I felt his son was clearly in need of a more predictable and stable environment. He was getting into trouble in school, not doing well academically, and to me seemed utterly at a loss as to how to manage himself.

When we married things changed for Andrew and his former wife, and their children. I can see that I was the catalyst, and while some aspects of those changes have born great fruit, I know not everyone is happy. I am aware there are hurt feelings and resentments, and days when the good old days look awfully sweet. Out of the need to keep my children on the course I felt was best for them, I have basically forced Andrew’s children - and their parents - to adhere to my plan. I felt it was best for all of us here to be on the same schedule, have the same rules and expectations. I wanted to have that sense of a family unit, and while my children were eager to include Andrew’s group, it is clear to me his children have not always wanted it the same way.

It is now nearly 10pm. I have been at this for hours! I have stopped writing (or blogging, but I am too old-fashioned and way too big a fan of the English language to use that word) from time to time to check on the progress of our brood. My youngest has completed all her assignments, with some help from my step-son, and she is prepared for her Social Studies test tomorrow. My stepson’s assignments are completed, and both are tucked away, sleeping soundly upstairs. My eldest girls are finishing up their work and it is safe to say we are all tired and ready for bed. Andrew retreated upstairs well over an hour ago to attend to his own blog, and prepare his mind for tomorrow’s work.

We all think our children are special, and I am no exception. I am told consistently (by other parents, teachers, family and friends, as well as strangers who have happened upon us in public) that I must have done something right. I am proud to say my girls are full of life, very present, thoughtful and considerate, intelligent and intellectual - NOT the same thing - and funny as the dickens. They also happen to be a handful, argumentative, frustrating, and some times I just want to run away. And now I have three more I am learning about and making many mistakes along the way…although I have heard I am succeeding on some fronts.

I am seen as rather strict by today’s standards, a bit old-fashioned, but I am also known to be fun and a good listener. I say “no” more often than most of my peers, but then again I also try to keep in mind what I was like as a child. I rely a lot on what my parents taught me, which many people my age turn their backs on rather than embrace. I expect a lot from my children, but not perfection. Mostly I expect them to be present each day, even when they hate their life, their friends, their school, their parents, and their siblings - any combination of the afore mentioned tends to rear its ugly head in at least one of the children several days a week! Go ahead…do the math! To paraphrase Bette…you better buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy ride!