Category: Parenting

Won’t she just grow up?

2 Comments

Hardly a girl escaped exposure to middle school terrorism: biting criticism about clothing, mean notes circulating, gym class taunting, teasing about lunchbox contents, cliques loudly discussing parties from which some were excluded. Even if you weren’t a target, bullying was surely on your social radar. You may have cringed as you witnessed it, rigorously monitoring your own behavior to avoid attracting the same fate. Perhaps you eventually breathed a sigh of relief, finding your high school or college niche, feeling strong in your network of supportive women. You grew out of it, beyond it, and trusted you were done with that phase of your life, having to dodge or defend against mean girls.

Then you joined a mom’s group, the PTA, or even a work setting;  flashback to middle school. Gossip flies: “did you hear what happened at Joni’s bachelorette?” Criticism is thinly veiled: “can you believe she doesn’t vaccinate her kids?” Exclusive social events are whispered or bragged about: “girls’ escape to the lake house this weekend.”   You dash out of work at lunch to volunteer for the band, only to have other volunteers ignore you and chat among themselves. When you excuse yourself for the return dash, one exclaims, “oh, too bad you’re a working mom.”  You proudly dress for a party, feeling good about the style you assembled from Nordstrom Rack, until other guests begin to brag about their $465 boots and $800 jeans. Bullying is not confined to middle school.

Relational aggression (RA) is one form of bullying. According to Cheryl Dellasega, PhD, author of Mean Girls Grown Up, RA is verbal violence in which words, rather than fists, cause damage. October is Bullying Prevention Month, a good time to look at the ways in which RA continues to have a sneaky presence in women’s lives, regardless of age.

Competition and comparison seem to be human nature. An inherent gauge of success is how our accomplishments measure up to those around up. So keeping score–and possibly bragging or lamenting about it–doesn’t stop. Social media such as Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest are injecting it with new adrenaline for all ages. How many friends do you have? What glorious picture of your life can you paint with your tweets, pins, posts? Even at midlife and beyond, opportunities to “top this” and criticize abound. “Can you believe her son still hasn’t graduated?” “They spent that much on that wedding?!”

If you find yourself a target of RA, your first thought might be “I thought I was done with this; can’t she just grow up?” Here’s my short list of quick tips to cope with adult relational aggression directed at you:

1)  Expect people to be who they are. Bullies don’t automatically grow out of it as they grow up. If an acquaintance seems like a bully, trust your gut that you are reading it accurately. Expectations are our biggest enemy (check out my list of posts under “Expectations” to the right, for further reading) and thankfully, one category that we can control to improve our well-being. Bullies just are. Don’t expect them to be otherwise, and their tactics will lose some power.

2) This is not about me. You aren’t the problem, the bully is. You are not deficient, weak, or unlikable. Behavior like this says it all about the bully, nothing about you.

3) Toxic people aren’t toxic if we fail to react. If you apply the first two tips, it’s much easier to step away and not react. Breathe. Dismiss. Let go. Invoke the mantra “what other people think of me is none of my business.” The final authority on approval lies within you.

Have you been a victim of adult relational aggression? How have you coped?

 

 

Another teeter-totter

Leave a comment

Hot topic on the net this week, at least until the Supreme Court ruled on the Affordable Care Act today, is this great article about “having it all” at The Atlantic.  I can’t even begin to cover all the great discussion this article has launched, but I am thoroughly thrilled that people are talking. I’d like to look at the main reasons I loved this article and the tidal wave of discussion it’s started.

1) The fiction that the first wave of feminism accomplished what we wanted it to accomplish is exposed. “Having it all” with no costs is a breezy lie. Finally, honest, heartfelt discussion on this topic. It’s validating for men and women who are trying to balance work and family and finding it impossible at best. Just to know that we are not the only ones struggling can make us feel better. This honesty ends the guilt and worry about “something the matter with me” if I can’t do it.

2) The author, Anne-Marie Slaughter, makes the point that we need cultural, societal, policy changes to improve the situation. This isn’t about just the challenge to couples on their own, that it will be all right if only they work smarter, get more education, build better support systems. Yes, those tools can help. But unless there is a shift in workplace expectations, whether industry, business, government, or academia, we will continue to lose talent when parents choose to opt out of their fields in order to pursue the elusive balance. Let alone what the current trend to crazy work schedules is doing to our collective and individual health as a nation that has sky-high rates of stress-related diseases.

3) Slaughter speaks up about wanting to be home, a truth that is often frowned upon and greeted with glazed-over eyes by those who don’t get it or scorn by those who perceive a parent as “wasting” one’s skills. Yes, we can want to be home more to make that critical contribution to our children, that in turn is a contribution to society. I am NOT implying that making a choice to NOT be home with children is NOT a good choice. What I’ve always espoused, because it’s what works for parents and children: to be the best parent you can be in the way that works for you. There is not a single Right Answer for every parent or every child.The point is the freedom and support to do what works for you.  To be your own perfectly good mom.

We need to remember that balance is not a set point, rather it’s a constantly shifting target. It’s looking at the big picture of balance over the long haul in a life, not the teeter-totter of every day. Let’s continue to evolve–through just this kind of discussion, inching us toward a livable solution.

Just in time for Father’s Day, a new “Survivor” series . . .

1 Comment

Six married men will be dropped on an island with one car and 2 kids each for six weeks.

Each kid will play two sports and take either music or dance classes.

There is no fast food.

Each man must take care of his 2 kids; keep his assigned house clean, correct all homework, complete science projects, cook, do laundry, and pay a list of ‘pretend’ bills with not enough money. In addition, each man will have to budget enough money for groceries each week.

Each man must remember the birthdays of all their friends and relatives, and send cards out on time–no emailing.

Each man must also take each child to a doctor’s appointment, a dentist appointment and a haircut appointment. He must make one unscheduled and inconvenient visit per child to the Emergency Room.

He must also make cookies or cupcakes for a school function. Each man will be responsible for decorating his own assigned house, planting flowers outside, and keeping it presentable at all times.

The men will only have access to television when the kids are asleep and all chores are done. The men must shave their legs, wear makeup daily, adorn themselves with jewelry, wear uncomfortable yet stylish shoes, keep fingernails polished, and eyebrows groomed.

During one of the six weeks, the men will have to endure severe abdominal cramps, backaches, headaches, have extreme, unexplained mood swings but never once complain or slow down from other duties.

They must attend weekly school meetings, and find time at least once to spend the afternoon at the park or a similar setting.

They will need to read a book to the kids each night and in the morning, feed them, dress them, brush their teeth and comb their hair by 7:30 am.

A test will be given at the end of the six weeks, and each father will be required to know all of the following information: each child’s birthday, height, weight, shoe size, clothes size, doctor’s name, the child’s weight at birth, length, time of birth, and length of labor, each child’s favorite color, middle name, favorite snack, favorite song, favorite drink, favorite toy, biggest fear, and what they want to be when they grow up.

The kids vote them off the island based on performance.

The last man wins only if…he still has enough energy to be intimate with his spouse at a moment’s notice.

If the last man does win, he can play the game over and over and over again for the next 18-25 years, eventually earning the right to be called Mother!

And of course, there are fathers out there who can kick these tasks out of the park. Kudos to them, and cheers to all on Father’s Day!

(And if anyone knows the original author of this piece, please give them my thanks and credit!)

Another thought about life’s pits

Leave a comment

While I don’t usually do ‘themes’ over several weeks, lately I seem to keep finding more to say about navigating the really tough parts of life. Part one noted that all of life involves struggles, and we fool ourselves if we believe 1) that life is harder for us than for others and/or 2) that we can avoid this part of life if we just behave in the right way. Part two stressed that the challenge of life is to navigate these trials; just see that they are essential to the path we’re living and we don’t have to like them. Reading while I enjoy my breakfast on a patio this lovely spring morning placed part three squarely in my face.

Too often, when faced with unavoidable challenges, we wish we were stronger to face them. We don’t want to be we scared by them. We believe if we were stronger/smarter/more well-adjusted, the tough mess we’re about to have to tackle wouldn’t seem so awful. Again, second guessing of our abilities is powerful. Lacking confidence, looking around, we are certain others don’t shirk from their challenges. Confidence would mean breezing through, unphased by the bumps in the road, right?

Wrong. This morning, in Everything Happens for a Reason, Mira Kirshenbaum reminded me what it’s like to be inside someone who is confident. Mira says:

“Confidence only means something when you’re talking about a task that’s difficult. If the task is easy–something like making toast–you wouldn’t even use the word confident. It would sound pretty weird to say “I’m very confident I’m going to be able to toast this slice of bread.” If the task is easy, you just do it without thinking about it.”

The inner world of confidence in the face of difficulty means trusting that 1) yes, it will be tough to navigate the challenge ahead AND 2) I can do it. That’s how confidence manifests itself: that you have an inner knowing that you will be able to survive whatever happens. This is the best script I know for getting through anxiety, depression, loss, and other bad stuff. In other words, the usual path of life. You know it will be hard, AND you know you will be able to do it.

As Mira says, “deep in the heart of confidence is a shrug, not a swagger.”

Shrug on, survivors.

Pits or cherries?

2 Comments

Who says life is a bowl of cherries? Mary Engelbreit? No, wait, that quote was “life is just a chair of bowlies.” Actually, my quick Google search shows that “Life is just a bowl of cherries” was a song written in 1931, sung by Rudy Vallee and then in 1967 by Doris Day, with plenty of others in between. The original idiom implies that everything is carefree and life is wonderful.

Even though most of us would probably protest that we know life is hard and full of challenges, this idiom is sneaky, invading our expectations and coloring our daily lives. As with many figures of speech I like to challenge, this little idea is insidious, lurking in the shadows, unrecognized. Too often, we think life should be simple, carefree, and easy. We expect that we can dodge difficulties. We yearn to protect our children and loved ones from all pain and tribulation, so that they can have smooth, trouble-free lives. More importantly, when none of these unrealistic aspirations are achievable, we blame ourselves. We feel like failures when we are unable to meet this impossible expectation to make life’s trials vanish.

Even though we know life’s path is often through the pits, we lament the toll the negatives will take. The all or nothing, black and white thinking invades, and we think one difficulty wrecks the whole. One bad day for your child will ruin her life. One setback for you means you never meet your goal. To paraphrase another familiar fruit idiom, one spoiled cherry does not ruin the whole bowl. Especially if you clean out the bowl frequently! Sure, the mold will spread if you don’t weed out the rotten ones.

Moving through our lives, we need to note the rotten moments, and set them aside, just like that one funky cherry. The hard spots, the pits, are where the growth comes. The challenges that strengthen, calling us (or our kids) to stand up, to define what works for the life we have crafted, would not be possible without the pits. A life that is smooth, always running well, is not only boring, unrealistic, and unachievable, it is not a road that stretches us. No obstacles mean no push to change.

All of this is not to say that we can’t lament the tough spots. Validation that life is hard is very comforting. Release the sense, however, that life is hard because you are not doing your best or have failed somehow. We are all doing the best that we can, in a way that works for us, at any given moment. There is just much hard stuff we encounter that we cannot control. It’s as much a part of being alive as the fact that your brain keeps thinking, your heart keeps beating, and your lungs keep breathing. So have a little self-compassion–life is hard, no matter what you do. And these challenges offer us a juicy chance to evolve.

Grade on the curve

Leave a comment

Racing through our daily lives, maintaining the breakneck pace that seems essential to not sink in today’s economy (or with current standards for parenting), you are normal if you check out the competition. How is your neighbor doing? Or your coworker? Are you the only one treading water, trying not to get sucked into the undertow? This type of social comparison seems as essential to our self-image as the pace itself. And, like most of us, you are certain that you are the only one struggling. Everyone else seems to be breezing along, gaily checking off items on their “to do” lists, while you can’t find that shred of McDonald’s placement scribbled with the grocery list. It’s probably under the bed with the dust bunnies which are steadily approaching the size of county fair champion rabbits.

NEWS FLASH: Everyone is in the same boat. No one is achieving 110%. Everyone is compromising, economizing, or sighing at day’s end because something got dropped. I say it’s about time to give ourselves a grade based on the curve.

Remember grading on the curve in school? If a test was particularly difficult, and no one achieved a perfect score, the grading scale was adjusted. A score of 80% could then be the highest grade anyone received, and all the grades were raised accordingly.

In high school, I was the curve-wrecker. Called this lovely term by one and all, and factually it probably was true. But once real life hit (aka children), I lost–and have never regained– that ability to be on time, have all the dishes loaded, dust under the bed, balance the work load, throw the perfect party while I remodel the house and author a book. I maintain a facade just like everyone else. Once I allowed myself to switch gears and adopt a new strategy, the curve wrecker mentality happily fizzled out.

By my informal assessment, in my life and my office, we each heartily believe that we are the only person doing “B” work. Sounds to me like everybody is doing B work, and it’s time for the curve. The daily expectations are for perfection–A++, 110%–and by definition, that’s impossible.

Embrace that you are doing the best you can. It’s your best, and what others are achieving has nothing to do with you. But here’s the secret: no one is actually getting 100% done. Let’s just all admit that and activate that grading curve next time we are tempted to compare our accomplishments to the next person.

It’s not a super path

Leave a comment

Superman/woman syndrome is a sneaky snake in current culture. No matter how many times we’ve heard it, somewhere deep within we harbor the feeling that we can do it all, being all things to all people. This myth dies hard. In straight thinking moments–or days–we embrace the bunk that is superwoman/man, and free ourselves from those expectations. Hurray for a small dose of reality.

However, even when we readily admit that we can’t achieve superpowers, a sneaky leftover part of that drive to be super deserves the ‘who says’ challenge: beliefs about the path to change. We still expect to be like Superman himself, clearing buildings in a single bound. The one-click culture encourages us to expect change to happen just like that. Click off the old behavior, click on the new. Door open or door closed. Instant change and everything is now rosy–i.e. perfect.

Magic wand at the ready, I wish it were this way myself. (Though of course that would mean I was out of a job and I’m not quite ready to retire.) The reality is that it’s a path, often a twisting path at that. It’s two steps forward, then one back. Or it’s a spiral, my favorite illustration about moving toward change, cycling by the same issues again and again, reworking and fine-tuning as we make our way to the goal at the top.

Accepting this winding path as reality stops that old automatic “failure” thinking. When we stumble, or it seems that we are NOT achieving that goal in a single leap, we lose track of the big picture. We conclude that we’ve failed. Time to step back and see that you are on the path. It’s just not a single step, or even a song and dance two-step.

Have a little self-compassion. No single leaps aided by a ruby cape. Just steadily wind your way up the stairs, or along the path, and you’ll soon be where you wish to be. Enjoy the climb.

A strategy shift

2 Comments

Chastise yourself much? Scold yourself for not doing the right/healthy/calm thing, hoping to move yourself into good behavior? This thinking runs through my head at times: “What were you thinking? You know better!” As a culture, we have a too-ready acceptance of this process, i.e. that the best way to bring misbehavior in line is through correction and scolding, especially when applied to ourselves versus children. It’s a time-honored tradition, as this quote suggests:

Some are kissing mothers and some are scolding mothers, but it is love just the same, and most mothers kiss and scold together.——-Pearl S. Buck

Recent research looked at the effectiveness of this type of negative thinking in motivating behavior. Participants were instructed to focus on one of two options when facing a decision about eating a piece of chocolate cake. The first group focused on how badly they would feel if they broke their diets and ate the cake, while another group zeroed in on how virtuous they would feel if they resisted temptation. The study participants who connected with pride over making the healthy choice actually could resist the unhealthy food choice, while those who scolded themselves dove right in. Perhaps the scolding made them feel badly, ramping up the craving for comfort food?

This seems like another case of adults adopting a strategy that we would not practice with children. We know to correct gently and focus on what children have achieved, rather than rant about mistakes.

(Though we’ve swung the pendulum perhaps too far with children, fearing scolding will warp their little psyches. I’m not advocating harsh treatment of children by any means. But I am reminded of a story from my family’s early parenting days. My toddler daughter scribbled a picture; Dad oohed and aahed. So she scribbled another one. He oohed and aahed again. This went on for twenty minutes, as the drawings regressed to just a pink line of crayon across a whole sheet of paper. Daughter was clearly testing out the fatherly admiration society, not producing art for her own sake. )

Let’s apply these rules about shaping behavior in our own heads. Next time you need to motivate yourself, focus on how you will feel better with triumph, rather than selecting shame as the motivator. I’d love to hear how this works for you.

No one was ever scolded out of their sins. ——William Cowper

Family “vacation?”

2 Comments

Practically everyone is looking forward to a vacation this time of year. Sit back, close your eyes, begin to let images drift into your mind about the perfect getaway. What do you see? Maybe you’re escaping the heat for a dose of mountain cool air or sinking into soft sand with the latest beach read. Maybe you’re sleeping until noon or bonding with your family, enjoying a beer and a raucous round of cards. Ahhh, each picture ramps up those expectations of your personal version of relief from summer and the hectic life you live, right?

Or maybe you have just returned and are devastated, or at least disappointed, about the discrepancy between what was imagined and what occurred. It rained, the kids screamed. You didn’t get to sleep in. Diapers, baths, meals continued to bombard you, if you’re a parent. Or maybe the magnetism of old family patterns launched you into autopilot. Within minutes during my last visit to my mother’s, I was bickering with my sister about who was right. Didn’t matter what the issue, the habitual way to relate seemed to grab us both and slam us into history.

There seems no better time to examine expectations than when facing holidays–and vacations count. I think we can start by dropping the word “vacation” in connection to visits to family, or trips to Disney World with preschoolers. Maybe we need to ban the word entirely when small children are in tow. Whether you are a parent or not, think back to your little reverie from the first paragraph–were there pictures of children in that? Be honest. Hmmm, I thought not.

Let’s change our ever-powerful wording again, and call these what they are: family trips. Excursions like this can be fun. But they are not relief from a parent’s regular life.

Just as with other celebrations, sit down and examine what you really want to get out of any trip. Make a list. Make concrete plans to have at least some of that happen. A psychologist friend, when his children were small, set up a schedule with his wife. When the family was out of town, he and his wife took turns being on kid duty: 8 am to 2 pm and 2 pm until 8 pm. Whichever parent was on duty fed, clothed, comforted, and amused the offspring. The next day the shifts switched. In this manner, each parent got to sleep in, go snorkeling, or lay on the beach and read. Takes two active parents and some discipline to enact this, but it’s well worth it.

So lay out your expectations, examine them, and develop a realistic plan. And when you’re stuffing those suitcases, make sure to pack your perspective and your sense of humor. Both are essential to a satisfying trip.

It’s all about the ratio

2 Comments

We fallible human beings are inveterate black and white, all or nothing thinkers–especially when stressed. Either everything is good, wonderful, 110% perfect– your life, your parenting, your relationship, your job, your holiday, last night’s sleep, your weight, your food consumption–or everything is a mess and you are a dismal failure. One minor slip, and (fill in the blank) is all shot to h*)). One cookie wrecks the diet, so may as well have six more. One cranky moment where you snap at a child or loved one, and you are a wretched parent/partner. One hour–or even two–of restless tossing and turning at 3 a.m. ruins your whole night’s sleep. One traffic jam in an eight hour journey or one rainy day dooms the whole vacation. One missed deadline and you’re a terrible worker. If none of this rings true for you, sign off right now and go crack open a well-deserved bottle of champagne. You are perfect–or at least your thinking is!

If any of the above thoughts have ever crept into your embattled brain, consider one of my favorite phrases:

It’s all about the ratio.

Our lives aren’t judged by any single moment of success or failure, but by the ratio of wins to losses, grand slams compared to falling-flat-on-face-in- mud moments. Bad mommy moments to tender bedtime stories. Decisions that worked versus backfired with a vengeance. Judith Orloff says there are no wrong choices–some just lead to more painful paths than others.

When you are feeling badly about some completely human action you have blundered into, stop. Take a deep breathe. Do the math. There are 168 hours in the week. “Oh well” if you got sucked into sulking for one of them. You need to ingest 2000 extra calories to gain a pound. One cookie is only 1/10th of that. There are 365 days in the year, eight hours in a night of sleep, 100 assignments in a college career. Etcetera. You get the picture.

Self-compassion comes into play again. Forgive yourself, your errors; maybe even define what you can learn from them. Then refocus on your successes by calculating the ratio. Embrace the fact that we’re all doing the best we can, given our circumstances at any moment.