No experience necessary

I’m fulfilling a job that I never applied for. I’ve been doing it for about 8 ½ years. I had no experience when I started, but no one interviewed me or checked my references. It was an easy job to land but it’s the toughest one I’ve ever had.

The responsibilities are daunting and the hours grueling. On any given day, I might serve as a seamstress, laundress, chef, or chauffer. I’m a counselor, coach, cheerleader and drill sergeant. I have to regulate, respond, mediate and enforce, serve as boundary setter, spy, juror, judge, lifesaver, teacher and tutor … All this before the morning school bell rings.

I’m a parent, of course. And I know I’m not alone in feeling vastly under-qualified for the job.

Kelly Hagen, who writes a column in this space every Friday, will soon be adding “dad” to his list of titles and jobs. I enjoy reading about how he and his “sweet Annette” are preparing for their first child. It’s one of the most magical times in life.

Kelly didn’t apply for this job either, and probably lacks experience like most new parents. I don’t have any advice for him in that regard, but will offer a few reflections.

Parenting is a profession that’s easier to perform from the sidelines. Before I had kids, solving behavior problems in other people’s naughty children was a snap. Temper tantrums, disrespect and outright manipulation were easy to spot and curtail.

But last week, I was momentarily speechless when my own 8-year-old responded to my request with a defiant, “You can’t make me.” The first thought that crossed my mind. “Oh no. Now what do I do? She’s finally realized it -- I can’t make her.”

Parenting demands constant, instantaneous judgment calls. The boys are being sassy, should I give them a break because they are tired or drop the hammer? Are we expecting too much or too little. Am I being consistent or nitpicky? Are we providing supportive guidance or preventing her from learning from a mistake?

Parenting magnifies your own weaknesses and insecurities and provides a fast track to growing up.

As challenging as this can be, it’s not the toughest part about parenting. When I was pregnant with our first child, I remember crying out of fear to my own mom (maybe the hormones had something to do with this).

It wasn’t labor or delivery. I didn’t fear nursing or sleepless nights (although I should have.) What scared me to tears was being so vulnerable -- realizing the potential heartache and pain I was subjecting myself to by having a child.

My instincts were dead on. I was right to fear this and still do. Nothing would be more painful than losing a child to an accident or illness. But my mom quickly placated my fears.

“Well, sure,” she said. “But there is so much more joy.”
I’m grateful she was right. Tiny triumphs bring endless joy to a parent -- watching them successfully snow plow down Huff Hills for the first time, say an unprompted prayer for a hurting grandparent, play a new song on the guitar or sound out a tough word. These are the small treasures that bring endless joy to a parent

It’s a crazy job, filled with heartache and laughter, worry, doubt, and a whole lot of joy. Experience would be helpful, but isn’t necessary -- you’ll get plenty of on the job training.

A Day with a Four Year Old

During a recent day with my four year old, something prompted me to step back from my roles as mother and teacher and observe how he approaches life.

The day started in a familiar way. He refused to wear the cute outfit I had selected and pulled on a grubby sports t-shirt and his favorite thread-bare sweatpants that are two inches too short.

Lesson one: Don’t do something just because someone suggested you should. Make your own decision.

Later that morning we went to the clinic for an appointment. We picked out a couple books to read while we were waiting, but the doctor arrived before we had time to finish them.

After the exam, as I prepared to leave, Sam objected, “But we didn’t read the books mom.” Thoughts of “more important” things to do came to mind, and I started to say, “Yeah, I know, but now we must get going.” But I realized we could spare enough time to read those books.

So we did. Dr. Seuss’s “Happy Birthday to You,” left us both smiling and was well worth the extra 10 minutes.

Lesson two: What’s the rush? Allow yourself time for things you enjoy.

On the way home we stopped at the grocery store. Sam walked straight for the “grocery cars.” A small basket would’ve been more than enough, but I went along with his choice.

As we rolled through the aisles he hung out the window of the “grocery car” and waved his arms like he was riding along the Pacific Coast Highway in a convertible. How I longed to be with him in his imaginary place – it was clearly more fun than the grocery store.

Lesson three: Use your imagination and the mundane can become magical.

We arrived home and an unusually warm January sun made the air feel like spring. Despite two-foot snow banks lining the sidewalk, Sam decided it was time to ride bike. So, we dug out his helmet and pulled his Incredible Hulk two-wheeler off the ceiling hooks in the garage.

He sped away, but within seconds a sheet of snow and ice sent him flat on his belly. I thought that might be the end of the January biking adventure, but I was wrong. He accepted my advice for maneuvering under slippery conditions and pedaled off, this time more carefully.

When we neared the end of the block, he suddenly hopped off the bike. “Oops. He’s had enough,” I thought. Wrong again. A smooth patch of ice by his feet screamed, “Dance on me.” So Sam shuffled around on the ice for a bit, enjoying a little boot dance in a neighbor’s driveway.

Lesson four: Be spontaneous, and joyful. If the spirit moves you, dance!

Soon it was time for lunch. Sam ate a half bowl of daily gruel and a few slices of apple. “Done mom,” he said and hopped down. He declined my offer of a treat saying, “I’m full mom. My tummy beeped.”

Lesson five: Stop eating when you’re full.

If you’re blessed to have a four-year-old in your life, take time today to see what he or she can teach you. If not, go ahead and borrow a couple lessons from Sam. Think for yourself. Be imaginative, spontaneous and joyful. Take time for things you enjoy. And listen carefully for your tummy to beep.

Resurrecting a Lost Art: Send them Outside

My mom made donuts with my kids last week. We like cheap thrills at our house, and homemade donuts are about the cheapest thrill around. Warm, deep-fried dough dipped in sugar -- delicious.

We ate them as fast as grandma pulled them out of the fryer. She often made donuts for us when we were growing up, and told of my oldest brother John who would smell the donuts frying from outside and bring his friends in to load up.

They would spread their fingers, hang a donut ring around each one and race back outside to romp around. They probably burned off their five-donut snack before dinner.

This image got me thinking about modern boys. Sadly, the smell of baked goods wouldn’t lure many kids today from outside but from playing video games in the next room. They would likely gobble up the fatty snacks and plop back down for a couple more hours of screen time before dinner.

Video games are like crack for boys. I don’t know how or why, but Wii can change my soccer playing, bug collecting, kite flying, bike riding 6-year-old into a whiney, intolerable junkie obsessed with getting his next “fix” in front of the screen.

Television, computers and video games offer an easy path to peace in our homes, but they come at a big cost to our kids. A recent report conducted by the Colorado-based Outdoor Foundation shows that an increasing number of Americans participated in nature-based, outdoor activities in 2008. Great news.

However, outdoor activity for one critical group – children ages 6 to 17 – continues to decline. Down 8 percent in 2008, which follows an 11 percent decline the previous year.

Our kids are starved for fresh air. So I wonder, why do we so often leave our easiest, cheapest and best parenting tool tucked in the back of the closet? Going outside is a great solution to so many parenting challenges. Bored? Tired? Hungry? Crabby? Fighting with your siblings? Get outside.

Fresh air, unfiltered light and the freedom of being outdoors offers a powerful potion for the human spirit. It reboots children – and adults -- energizes us and provides a new perspective.

Scientists have studied the affects of outdoor activities on children. We’ve heard them before, but another look might strengthen our resolve to push our kids outside as the weather turns cold. Here are just a few of the many proven benefits:
• Decreased stress, anxiety and obesity.
• Improved motor skills, cognitive functioning and creativity.
• Development of healthy lifelong habits and hobbies.
• Reduced symptoms of Attention Deficit Disorder.
• Strengthened family relationships.
• Greater appreciation for nature and wildlife.

Today was a flawless fall day, and I spent most of it in a small, windowless office. The sun was starting to set when I arrived home but I was determined to capture a few minutes of fresh air. Thankfully, my kids didn’t resist.

We crossed the street and wandered around a (dwindling) parcel of vacant prairie north of our house. We walked through “Sunrise Crater,” climbed a couple hay bales and played a bit of football. It was a lovely evening and we stayed out long enough to watch the sunset.

Walking home by moonlight, one of the kids pointed to the sky and yelled, “First star. Make a wish.” A few steps later, my four year old said, “I wished that we can come here again tomorrow.”

Now, there’s a wish I know I can make come true. Maybe we’ll bring a handful of grandma’s donuts.

Surviving a Summer of Squabbles

While thousands of people were reveling at the state fair or 10,000 Lakes Festival last weekend, I was solo-parenting at a very different festival: Bickerfest 2009. This included refereeing the ever-popular sideshows Whine-o-rama, Wrestlemania and Squabblejam.

For kids, summer means freedom, fun and a lot more togetherness with siblings. As August approaches, most parents I know are growing weary of the battles.

The scenarios that trigger sibling scraps are usually too-ridiculous to repeat. My favorite exchange this weekend found my son yelling down the steps, “Quit talking to me!” To which his younger brother responded in his loudest possible voice, “No!!! You quit talking to me first.”

In the peak of frustration with Bickerfest, I retreated briefly to my computer and hastily composed an email to my family chronicling the events of my aggravating morning and my not-so-graceful ways of handling it.

Later that day, when the kids and I arrived home from some errands, a beautiful vase of miniature roses greeted me at the door. A note in my mom’s script advised, “Spread happiness in a troubled world.”

My mom was famous for keeping her cool. When my siblings were young, we lived just one block from school, so they always came home for lunch. My mom set out the food family style and left them unsupervised to serve and eat lunch while she retreated to the piano.

Chaos usually ensued, as you would expect. But my mom was in her own happy place drowning out the noise with songs and scales. To this day, she insists she was trying to teach them to share.

For me, and I believe most parents, listening to my kids fight is difficult for reasons beyond just the noise or the inherent danger of two boys in a real brawl with light sabers. Remember Madlyn Primoff, the 45-year-old Park Avenue lawyer who became a nationwide news story this spring for kicking her 12 and 10-year-old quarreling daughters out of the car and driving away?

Their bickering was annoying I’m sure, but I doubt that’s what prompted her to make good on the most widely used threat of all time. “Stop fighting or I’ll stop the car.”

Ultimately, what eats away at parents like Primoff – and me -- is the fear that we are the cause of the sibling quarrels. That our combative kids are proof that we are failing as parents. What am I doing wrong and how can I fix this, we wonder?

Parenting experts offer a wide variety of tips and tricks. We’ve heard them before, but perhaps a few are worth repeating.
• Negotiate in advance solutions and penalties for common daily battles.
• Set ground rules for fair fighting, like teaching them to fight with words, not fists.
• Use natural consequences. For example, those who demand to get the first or the most, get the last and the least.

The one point on which all the experts agree is that fighting is both normal and essential for growing up. Somehow squabbling with siblings teaches kids how to solve problems and handle conflicts as adults.

To this end, my most trusted advisor (my mom) and the books, too, strongly advise that parents let kids work out their battles themselves.

So, I guess I can retire my whistle and striped shirt. Next time my kids are fighting, you can find me at the piano.