This isn't a Job!

By: Carol Maxym, Ph.D.

I hear people talking about mothering or fathering—parenting—as a “job” all the time. A

job has a start time and end time. Not so with being a parent. A job pays you. Not so with being a parent. You can retire from a job or look for a new one. Not the way it is for parents. You can get fired from a job—and even if there are times you feel you might like to be fired from being a parent, it just doesn’t work that way. You can get promoted in a job. No promotions in the parent world.

Being a parent isn’t a job. It’s a duty. A sacred duty. Once you become a parent, it lasts your lifetime. That’s part of what makes it so wonderful, so daunting, so joyous, so frightening. And, as you know, no one and nothing can bring you joy or pain like your child.

So why am I saying all this? Because I think in the midst of the day-long, day-to-day routine and all the advice that comes your way, it is easy lose track of the lifelong duty side of being a parent.

When my daughter had her first child and felt a bit overwhelmed with all there was to do (as do most mothers and fathers), I told her that I had learned from experience that one grows into being a mother or father. As the child grows, so do you as the parent. Recently she referenced that conversation to tell me how true was my statement. As a parent you grow and grow and mature, just as your child does.

Part of my goal for this blog is to help you to think, rethink, consider, reconsider, to be thoughtful and questioning while yet wise and decisive. Seldom will I give you specific advice, “Do this” or “Do that.” There’s too much of that out there already, and you and I both know it doesn’t work. Instead I’ll work to try to help you to be a wiser mom or dad.

I hope that most days you’ll spend about five minutes with me, then think about what you’ve read in those few spare moments you have.

A few years ago a client told me about a sermon her pastor had given in which he said to welcome the red lights you wait for in traffic because it is the only time in your day when you really can’t do anything but wait, so you might as well treasure the time, use it to think, to reconsider, to muse. I hope you’ll have and enjoy one red light today.

Weekend Observation

By: Carol Maxym, Ph.D.

What a joy today to be able to watch a dad be such a cool dad to his two sons. He was funny, loving, playful, directive—very directive—clear in his communications to his sons. He didn’t say “awesome” even one time. He didn’t overpraise, not once. Once when one of the two boys (three and four, I would guess) didn’t quite obey (yes, obey! imagine using that word!), he simply stared the boy down. Because his son already respected his dad and dad’s authority, it worked well.

He was playing a bit rough with them—good boy-kind of rough play. One of the boys was “scared”; the dad didn’t let it go. He asked why but didn’t hang on getting some sort of pretend-reasonable/rational explanation from a four-year old. Later one of the boys wanted to “give up.” Yay for the dad who didn’t ask why or try to cajole him. Yay for the dad who simply advised, “Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up.” Yay for the dad who never raised his voice because he had established his knowledge, authority, and that he provided safety for his sons.

And, sadly, I need to contrast with the dad I saw yesterday. Since it was raining, and I go nuts if I don’t get exercise, I was walking in an indoor mall. I mean, you do the best you can, right? In came a dad with a very pretty little daughter—probably four. She was all dressed up in a darling dress with a little sequined bag. As they entered the mall, dad said, “So, what store do you want to go to? You choose.” He stood back to give her the run of the mall. Really. She is four. Four years old. How could she possibly make such a choice?

This is a perfect example of the problem of giving kids choices way beyond their years and development. What would any four-year old do with such an invitation? Well, exactly what she did. Get excited, overly excited, and start running around. To some she may have seemed really happy because she could do whatever she wished. To me she seemed mainly overwhelmed with having to try to do what her dad asked her to do: Choose what store(s) to go into. She was trying to please her father. He was trying to please her, I am quite sure. He wanted, I am guessing, to make her happy. 

Overwhelming a child with choices is not a way to make the child happy. It is a way to make a child anxious and overwhelmed, no matter how good a parent’s motives.

Instead, he could have taken her hand and walked with her to whatever store(s) they wanted or needed to visit, made their purchase(s) and gone home with, in fact, much less anxiety for this pretty little girl.

I do not ascribe anything but good motives to the dad. I wish, rather, simply to note again and with this specific example how important it is to tailor choices to a child’s age, maturity, and actual, real, demonstrable ability to make the choice being offered.