Category Archives: Parenting

How to Get Your Kids to Stop Asking if They Can Watch TV

March 31, 2009media, ParentingKirsetin

“Mom, can I watch a show?”

“Not right now, honey.”

“Okay.”

“Mom, can I watch a show now?”

Arrgghh!

When my first son was 3, this very conversation played out day after day in our home. As you probably know by now, I’m not a big fan of turning on the Plug in Drug while my kids are awake. (But you bet it’s on for The Office!) Still, I didn’t want to create some sort of weird craving in my kids by never turning it on. What to do?

The very first thing for all of us to do, I think, is to figure out where we stand. Sometimes, as parents, our answers are wishy-washy because our resolve is wishy-washy. If we “sort of” think we don’t want them to watch too much TV but we also really need half an hour to ourselves, it’s easy to toss the ideals and grab the remote.

But, if we articulate—for ourselves and our kids—how we feel, if we define our stance and understand the why behind our reasoning, suddenly we are rock solid. And parents, rock solid is where we want to be. Wishy-washy is for the birds!

I truly believe kids function better with structure (especially if that structure includes a couple of hours of unstructured play), so when my children were young I tried to plan all sorts of regular activities. Not paid activities, like gymnastics class, mind you, but free activities, like going to the playground, or taking a walk around the lake, or visiting a book store. (Yeah, that last one did end up costing a pretty penny…so, sort of free, but in the end, not so free.) Sometimes we also had a paid activity on the calendar (like the aforementioned gymnastics class), but I think its important for kids to have activities where they aren’t being led. How will they learn to explore, lead, wonder, if they don’t have time to simply wander?

Okay, back to the TV thing.

I went to Staples and bought one of those huge desk calendars, like my grandfather used to have on his old wooden desk. Because my son couldn’t read yet, I drew pictures of his daily activities. One day, I drew a slide and some swings. (Yep, playground.) On two of the days, I drew a little schoolhouse. (Uh huh. Pre-school.) And every Friday, I drew a picture of the TV. On Friday afternoons he could choose any ½ hour video we had and chill out with Bob and Larry or Dora or Blues Clues (back when it was Steve!).

Outcome:

Helped him learn the days of the week
Helped him understand planning and time
Helped me organize our activities at the beginning of the week
And the BEST: If the “When can I watch…” question started, we only had to walk over to the calendar to count the days until Friday.

Two kids and MANY calendars later, I can attest that this works like a charm. Now run on over to Staples. Calendars are probably 80% off by now!

Teenage Girls Defend Chris Brown

March 23, 2009celebrities, media, Parenting, tweens and teensKirsetin

Say it isn’t so!

Although I’d heard some talk about teenage girls defending Chris Brown, I didn’t pay much attention until I read Jan Hoffman’s article in the NY Times last Friday (Teenage Girls Stand By Their Man).

Here are some of the most disturbing quotes I read:

“She probably made him mad for him to react like that,” the other ninth grader said. “You know, like, bring it on?”

“She probably feels bad that it was her fault, so she took him back.”

“Her friend nodded. “I don’t think he’ll hit her like that again,” she said.”

“During a presentation about dating violence to ninth graders at Hostos-Lincoln Academy this week, one girl said, “If they hit you, smack them back. Both my parents say that to me.”

“Yeah, men hit women, and women hit men. It was blown out of proportion because they’re celebrities.”

Really? This is what girls are saying?

Somebody help me. This, I cannot understand.

photo credit: joeltelling

The Altar of Motherhood

March 20, 2009balance, contentment, Parenting, writingKirsetin

A new friend of mine shared an essay with me recently, an excerpt from a book by Walter Wangerin, Jr. She said she thought of me when she read it, because I am a writer, and a mother. And she added that she thought this essay was true for many mothers, not just writers. Having not yet read the article, I just nodded and thanked her and smiled. I picked up my child and waved good-bye.

A day or two passed before I found the time to sit down and read the few pages she had taken the time to photocopy for me. I was busy with PTO and blogging and soccer and life. But the papers on the counter kept calling and eventually, finally, I found time to sit down and read them.

In The Altar of Motherhood, Walter Wangerin, Jr. writes about a time in 1985 when he became the work-at-home parent while his wife went off to the office full-time. During the school year, he managed nicely, thank you very much. And then came summer, when he thought he’d complete his book manuscript. (All work-at-home mothers may pause here, for a good, hearty laugh.) As the days stretched on, he finally concluded, “these children of mine must take precedence—because they are children and they are mine and they come first…”

And all of us who have made that decision understand. We understand that it is right for us. We understand that even though it is right, it is hard. It is exceedingly hard. We understand that he speaks of a sacrifice of the highest order.

Walter Wangerin, Jr. went on to put it this way:

“Ah, Mother, every summer since then I have thought of you and of all your sisters through the ages…I see deep, and I see this: that once there lay in the precinct of many mothers’ souls some private dream. The characteristic by which they defined their selves and their purpose for being. To write? Maybe. To run a marathon? Or to run a company? Yes. Yes.

But then the baby came home, and then you and others like you made a terrible, terribly lovely choice. You reached into your soul and withdrew that precious thing and lifted it up before your breast and began to walk. Deliberate and utterly beautiful, you strode to an altar of love for this child and placed there the talent, the dream, some core part of your particular self—and in order to mother another, you released it.”

And though I write these words 23 years later, his words still ring true. That first year after I brought my first baby home was one of the hardest times of my life. When I decided, towards the end of that year, to place my career on that very altar, to sacrifice, for some undetermined time, the plan I had laid out, it was heartbreaking. But it was the right choice for me. I wasn’t coerced, for goodness-sakes. I chose it. And despite how hard it’s been sometimes, I would choose it again. Sitting in my home office, type, type, typing away and listening to my college-aged sitter play with my baby down the hall just wasn’t for me. It wasn’t worth the trade. Also, I knew that my break would be temporary, I just wasn’t sure how long ‘temporary’ would be. In fact, I continued consulting for quite a while, and that was a great compromise. But still. It was a compromise. And you know, I guess that’s the thing. We bring these tiny little people into the world, and they need us. And so we make adjustments, changes, compromises to do what works best for us. And what works best for them. And somewhere along the way, we come to need them, too.

I felt vindicated, a bit, I suppose, when I read Walter Wangerin, Jr.’s essay, because sometimes I feel alone in this conflict. I have many friends who didn’t share the same agony when they left a job or career to stay home. They delighted in the infant days; they appreciated playgroups and enjoyed shopping at Gymboree. I love these women; they are some of my dearest friends. But it took awhile for me to join their circle, and still there are times, when I stand just outside, on the periphery, peering in, alone with my angst.

But I’m not alone. Sacrifice, in whatever shape it takes, is hard, and lots of parents are making lots of sacrifices. Earlier this week I read Mrs. Chicken’s eloquent narrative of the difficult time in which she and her husband currently find themselves. And then I read Julie Pippert’s post about how hard it is to be true to yourself and to mother your children. Oh, I know this pain. It is hard. It is. I agree with Julie when she says, “The funny thing, the odd thing, is that I think, in a way, the kids would…just as soon be home, running in the yard, largely ignoring us until they happened to need us in some way, while knowing we were there at their disposal.”

Right on the money, Julie. Right on the money. They just want us there. In case.

In the meantime, we go on. We adjust and change and compromise and try our best to show them that it’s important to love yourself and it’s important to love others. Sometimes we just don’t do both well at the same time.