I am not a
very good disciplinarian, which Jenna likes to point out to me on a regular
basis. In fact, she frequently critiques my many
shortcomings and offers advice on how I can correct these glaring deficits.
Let me just
tell you in case you don’t have one yet – there is no worse critic than your
own grown daughter. They are brutal little beings who have no problem telling
you the raw truth, like a bucket of ice cold water in your face or a gallon of
Kool-Aid without the sweetener.
Because Jenna
sometimes babysits her younger siblings as a favor, I usually allow her to
prattle on about what she would do if
she was the parent. She informs me of
all the dire consequences of my “permissive” parenting and lets me know what
behaviors she thinks are both
inappropriate and appropriate.
Occasionally
I will interject that I parent her brother and sister the same way I parented
her and she evidently thinks SHE turned out perfectly, so by her own parameters
I must be doing something right.
Even so, her
little lectures do plant seeds of doubt and begin to erode my parental
confidence. I start to worry that maybe what I view as a parenting style that
encourages creative expression is actually better described as lethargic mothering.
Maybe I am not living up to my potential as a mother and need to apply myself,
just like my grade 5 teacher said.
Sometimes I become
so concerned that I’m failing miserably as a parent that I do things I don’t necessarily
agree with, such as introducing the naughty chair. All the stellar parents and
parenting experts use this approach, so perhaps it was time I gave it a try.
Now, I didn’t
really think my kids were particularly naughty to begin with, apart from the
normal childish behaviors that can drive any parent batty. But of course there were
still behaviors that needed to be corrected and corralled.
Before the stupid
naughty chair, I believed that the best way to do this was to simply tell children
and show them the “proper” way to behave. Failing that, a firm, raised voice is
pretty effective. But apparently yelling at your kids is considered abuse in
some circles and the wooden spoon, which I and many of my generational cohorts were
subjected to, is no longer in style. Indeed, in some placing it is actually
illegal to spank a child and you can be thrown in jail.
So what are
you supposed to do with an unruly child? For a while it was popular to get down
on the child’s level and explain why
you are upset with his or her behavior, being ever so careful with your
wording. God forbid you convey, even
unintentionally, that it is the child himself who is “bad” and not the behavior.
The problem
with this getting down to their level and giving long, monotone dissertations on
child development to a 2 or 3-year-old is that it DOES NOT WORK. They might
stare at you blankly for a minute, having no idea what the hell you’re talking
about, before suddenly throwing themselves on the ground in a fit of seizure
activity, all the while screaming, “I hate you! I hate you!!”
One mother I knew
used to get right down on the floor whenever her out-of-control daughter had one
of these tantrums and calmly, almost soothingly say, “I hear that you hate me,
but I love you, honey.” This did nothing to settle the girl down and
if anything made her tantrum worse. I can see why this happened – what is more
infuriating than someone who remains calm and condescending while you’re
freaking out?
So role-modelling,
yelling, spanking, long explanations, and Buddha-like patience that makes you look
more the fool than enlightened are all out of the question. Say hello to the
naughty chair….
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