tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50915972169873111682024-03-04T22:31:37.986-08:00a soft place to landresources for gentle parenting and joyful relationshipsRonniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04394775601858204784noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091597216987311168.post-22770239987523030842013-07-07T19:39:00.000-07:002013-07-07T19:39:03.439-07:00breaking the shame chain<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Most toxic shame has
been passed down from generation to generation for centuries. Our
great-grandparents transferred their shame to our grandparents, our
grandparents transferred it to our parents, and our parents dumped it all on
us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">What messages of shame did you receive when you were a kid? "You're inadequate" is a common one. "You take up too much room." "You're unwanted, unlovable, unimportant." Or maybe "You're stupid" or even "You're crazy."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">All of these?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Ask yourself: Do you <em>really</em> want your kids to get the same message?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 120%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Tip: For more information about shame messages and their effects on us, read <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Rising-Above-Shame-Healing-Family/dp/1877872024" target="_blank">Rising Above Shame</a> by Dr. Stan Wilson.</span>Ronniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04394775601858204784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091597216987311168.post-91452506624904869232013-07-07T12:35:00.001-07:002013-07-07T12:38:58.702-07:00a different trip to the grocery store<em>Contributed by <a href="http://asoftplacetolandparenting.blogspot.com/p/about.html#laura" target="_blank">Laura Parrish</a></em><br />
<br />
Dear Mother in the Grocery store: Yes, I'm judging you.<br />
<br />
I'm the woman with the short gray hair, dropping plums into a bag, looking at you grab your small son by the arm and lift him off his feet. He was taking delight in his smaller version of your grocery cart, running down the aisle of shoppers, not listening to you or even hearing you, as he ran and you called. You carried him, wailing, by his arm around the corner to the entrance and told him to put the cart back. He had "lost the privilege" of pushing the cart. He wailed louder. Just a minute before, he had been pure happiness, delight and energy unbound, and now he was pulled back abruptly into a world of adult expectations for small children; a world that he didn't realize included walking sedately behind the cool, shiny cart just his size, staying beside his mother as she bagged broccoli and moved slowly to potatoes. Really, Mother? What did you think a little boy would want to do with his own cart to push?<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
I'm definitely past the young mother stage you find yourself in now. I remember those years, I remember worrying that everyone was judging me. Deep down, I was pretty sure I had no idea what I was doing, this mothering thing, this floundering in a sea of responsibility and tasks and emotions that pressed in on me. I loved these little ones in my care so much, and I felt that how they acted, how they "behaved in public," was a reflection of the "job" I was doing. They deserved a Good, Loving Mother. If they were crying or running or annoying other people, didn't that mean that *I* was not doing a good job? That I wasn't the Good Mother they deserved? Fear bubbled up. Fear of inadequacy. I was NOT a Good Mother. I was not enough. My poor children were stuck with an inadequate mother. Look at how they refused to listen to me when I told them to stop bouncing on the seats of the booth in the restaurant, to hold my hand in the parking lot, to WALK down the aisles of the grocery store. Think of the terrible things that could happen to them if I couldn't make them listen to me and obey. The absolute scariest thing for me was the thought that my kids were at risk, and here I was faced with the knowledge that *I* was not enough to keep them safe. It confirmed what I had always suspected: I was not enough. <br />
<br />
<strong>The solution seemed to be Control. </strong><br />
Control is the way to deal with Fear, isn't it? Clamp down, stamp it out, annihilate it. Whatever you do, don't admit it. Don't sink to your knees and ask for help. Don't admit that you are powerless. How will your kids survive with a powerless mother? I needed more control, obviously! I would MAKE them behave! Just like all of the other children I saw out in public -- the children who must be gifted with Good Mothers, those lucky little ones. Once my kids understood that their behavior was under my supreme control, they would be model little tikes, and I would walk beside them down the grocery aisles, secure in the knowledge that I was a Good Mother with Good Children and we would all live happily ever after. <br />
<br />
Huh.<br />
<br />
My idea of implementing my new system of control was some hazy concept that included talking LOUDER, demanding more, delivering Consequences. When I found that those actions didn't work, I got LOUDER, MORE demanding, found meaner, scarier consequences and clamped. down. hard. Meek, frightened children are well-behaved children. I didn't want my children to be frightened and unhappy, but at least they were safe. At least I was in control. They would do what I told them to do. They toed the line.<br />
<br />
But you know what's scarier than kids who are at risk because they won't obey you? Kids who are frightened and obedient. They can't hear their inner voice, because you have replaced it with the voice of command, and they have learned not to trust their own voice anyway. That is a scary responsibility -- becoming your child's inner voice for the rest of their lives. Ultimate control turns out to be not what you wanted as a parent after all, and the price for obedience is too high. When your children are afraid of you, when they don't trust you, when they hide things from you, or lie, or cringe when you raise your hand, you may realize that. <br />
<br />
<strong>So, what do you want? </strong><br />
How about trying this: Try letting go. Just Let. Go. Now. And breathe. Trust that your children are intelligent beings and have their own inner guide that will serve them well if you get out of the way and allow them to access it. Help them access it. <br />
<br />
So, Harried Mother who grasped her son's arm and lifted him off of his feet, how about planning a different trip to the grocery store: Remember to take a snack and a drink for your child, and try to make the trip at a time when you and your child aren't tired, because all of us are happier when we aren't hungry or thirsty or tired. Let go of expectations that you must get everything on your list. Let go of expectations that your child must behave a certain way. Let go of the worry that other shoppers are judging you. Look at your little boy's face when he gets his own little cart. Try and remember what it's like to be a child. If your son begins speeding recklessly through the aisles, draw his attention to something interesting. Ask him to reach something for you and put it in his cart. Make this trip about him. About him and about joy. Be his partner in joy. Look at him gently and smile and explain that running with carts in the grocery store can frighten other shoppers, because they're afraid they might be hit by his fast cart. Ask if he can show the other shoppers that his cart won't hurt them because he is careful and capable of handling it. Ask if your son would like to find a clear place in the parking lot to run with his cart for a few minutes after you have both put the groceries in your car. Ask his opinion on what you both should buy to have for dinner. Discuss what his daddy likes to eat and ask if he can help you find the best looking apples. Ask him to help take the groceries out of the cart for the checker. <br />
<br />
<strong>Have fun. </strong><br />
<br />
If your son wants to leave, leave. Make him the priority. The world won't end if you walk right out of the store without buying anything, and he will see that his feelings matter to you. And your feelings will begin to matter more to him. I wish you joy.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Editor's note: View Laura's author profile <a href="http://asoftplacetolandparenting.blogspot.com/p/about.html#laura">here</a>.</span>Ronniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04394775601858204784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091597216987311168.post-69184960190320197072013-07-06T21:14:00.000-07:002013-07-07T12:54:06.579-07:00open a hailing frequency<em>Contributed by <a href="http://asoftplacetolandparenting.blogspot.com/p/about.html#frank" target="_blank">Frank Maier</a></em><br />
<br />
Lieutenant Uhura, open a hailing frequency.<br />
<br />
And ya probably better activate the Universal Translator. <br />
<br />
Ronnie asked me to write a post about how I communicate with kids better than most adults do. Well, huh. I’ve never really thought of myself in those terms. Am I really better at talking to younger people than most other adults? If so, how? Why? What do I do that differs from other adults when talking with kids? To write about this topic, I had to think about the parameters of it from my perspective, others’ perspectives, and children’s perspectives. Here’s what I came up with.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9IBcaxAQkQzHI8OIUkJOPYn8LRGc60l4D1TCaOpybWZk97TZMkyI5siiS2j-kcB1A2Z5mH1M-0bKjoLgW6DeFUzqjJuxUEvWcrVGxUKtsWCipR-vaut6ZnZPFolDcn5ynVFMc7rNnGn3f/s1600/TobiasLinnea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9IBcaxAQkQzHI8OIUkJOPYn8LRGc60l4D1TCaOpybWZk97TZMkyI5siiS2j-kcB1A2Z5mH1M-0bKjoLgW6DeFUzqjJuxUEvWcrVGxUKtsWCipR-vaut6ZnZPFolDcn5ynVFMc7rNnGn3f/s320/TobiasLinnea.jpg" /></a><i>Don’t be somebody a kid would feel leery about. Be their equal. </i><br />
<br />
One thing I thought of is the simple physicality of communication. As a short person, I find it difficult to have a prolonged conversation with someone who’s, let’s say, 6’6”. The simple physicality of it begins to have a negative effect. To a child, especially a small one, adults are all about 10’10”. Even though I’m short to begin with, I bend down or even squat to be at a more equal level with the kid I’m talking to. <br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
So, I think that’s actually a factor. I speak to them at a physically-equal level, or as close as I can get, rather than looming over them like an ancient god with hair-trigger emotions and awful (awe-full) powers. Because, really, isn’t that what adults are in relation to kids? They’re dangerously powerful beings with seemingly-unknowable triggers who will reward or (more likely) punish you according to some indecipherable parameters. Unpredictable godlings. Ya gotta be leery of ‘em. <br />
<br />
<i>Don’t be somebody who makes a kid feel like a lesser creature. Be their equal. </i><br />
<br />
A second factor, at a simplistic level, is talking down to them, psychologically in this case rather than physically as in the previous one. I never use <i>that</i> tone of voice to/with any person, whatever their age. You know the one I mean – artificially chirpy and upbeat and speaking a little slowly, like you’d talk to a dog who’s entertaining you. Don’t do it to old people either. Somehow, to me, that’s even ruder than doing to kids. But make no mistake, it’s still completely rude to do it to kids. <br />
<br />
<i>Don’t make a kid feel like they’re talking to someone who’d fail the Turing test. Be their equal.</i> <br />
<br />
Be honest. That word is kinda fuzzy so let me discuss what I mean. Many adults tend to be not really interested in the conversation generally and specifically in what the kid is saying, and they embrace a generic low-level kind of “unh-huh” response to whatever the kid says. <br />
<br />
“I like turtles!” <br />
<br />
“Unh-huh.” <br />
<br />
“I love it when mom takes me to the park!” <br />
<br />
“Unh-huh.” <br />
<br />
Howzabout an actual interaction instead of a dismissive noncomment? Tell the kid that you like turtles, too. Or that you don’t! It’s ok to disagree in a companionable way. Even if you don’t, you can still then ask why s/he does and have a discussion (conversation!) about turtles. <br />
<br />
<i>Don’t be all stiff and “adult.” Be their equal. </i><br />
<br />
Smile. If you genuinely feel it. Don’t pretend. That’s another variant of that fake chirpy-voice thing and kids (or anybody) can see through that like Superman looking through cheesecloth. If you’re genuinely interacting with a kid, like you would with an adult friend, you’ll have many opportunities to smile. If you don’t, well, maybe that’s why you’re (generic “you”) not very good at conversing with younger folks. Or anybody? <br />
<br />
<i>Don’t be an outside observer to your own conversation, be in it. Be their equal. </i><br />
<br />
Be an equal partner in the conversation, not an adult interacting with a child. Tell them what you think, how you feel, what amazes you and what disgusts you, what excites you and makes you want to <b>do</b> that wonderful thing. And, given that you have had more actual life experience than they have, tell them about the fabulous thing that excited you so much that you actually pursued it and how great that was. <br />
<br />
<i>Variations on a theme: Be their equal.</i><br />
<br />
So what’s the summary here? <br />
<br />
I am absolutely no expert and, like I said at the start, I don’t think of myself as being especially good at conversing with younger folks. I just talk to people, whatever their age.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Editor's note: Maybe that's the ticket! For more from and about Frank, view his author profile <a href="http://asoftplacetolandparenting.blogspot.com/p/about.html#frank">here</a>.<br />
Photo of Tobias and Linnea, credit: Beatrice Mantovani</span>Ronniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04394775601858204784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091597216987311168.post-57269185160741858772013-07-06T20:34:00.001-07:002013-07-06T21:15:23.987-07:00wanted: new parent<em>Contributed by <a href="http://asoftplacetolandparenting.blogspot.com/p/about.html#jeff" target="_blank">Jeff Sabo</a></em><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #0b5394;">Wanted: One authoritarian individual, chronologically (if not intellectually and emotionally) of an adult age, to set a bad example for their children and for other parents. Must be able to be verbally abusive, short-tempered, and rude to a variety of other people, with or without advanced notice. Interruptive communication style preferred, ability to outright ignore is a plus. Must be willing to have whatever reaction seems appropriate for the time, with no regard for others. The ability to set and maintain a double standard is required. Strong preference for those who are self-centered and too busy to care about anyone else's feelings. No previous experience or training is necessary, but knowledge of corporal punishment is a plus.</span></div>
<br />
Ugh.<br />
<br />
Would you ever hire such a person? Would you ever date them? Would you ever even talk to them? And would you, under any circumstances, and regardless of where you are on your own parenting journey, put that person in a position to actually be responsible for the well-being of anyone else, let alone a child? Of course you wouldn't. You would never tolerate it, would never even allow that kind of negativity into your life at all.<br />
<br />
The irony is that these crappy parents wouldn't tolerate either; in fact ... they won't even tolerate such behavior from their children, let alone from another adult.<br />
<br />
But [kids] don't have a choice.<br />
<br />
<strong>But Oh, If They Did</strong><br />
<br />
If kids did have a choice, if they did have the ability to write a job description for an ideal parent, what might that look like? <br />
<a name='more'></a>Maybe like this:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #0b5394;">Wanted: Someone to love me, to play with me, to listen to me, to help me, to comfort me, to believe in me, to read with me, to tuck me in at night, to be real with me, to partner with me, and to like me. No experience or prior training required, but must be willing to grow and have a strong desire to improve. Oh, and it helps if you like Vanilla Wafers and make good sundaes.</span></div>
<br />
It's really just that simple, isn't it?<br />
<br />
Kids, in my opinion, don't expect a lot from their parents. They see the world in simple terms: fun or not, good or bad, happy or sad, etc. And because they are so free in their thoughts, unencumbered by the "benefit of perspective and experience" that drives so much fear and caution in adults, they are free to explore the infinite details of their worlds. Their world involves newness, and wonder, and freedom, and possibility, and joy. And so many adults do the exact opposite to their children - they make them live in a world of experience and training, and realism, and restriction, and probability, and structure - mostly designed for the convenience of the parent, not for the benefit of the miraculous child.<br />
<br />
<strong>So What's Next?</strong><br />
<br />
I am not the ideal parent all the time, and I know it. But there are so many kids out there who suffer at the hands of parents who simply suck, that it breaks my heart. Some of these parents suck because they just don't care - they are choosing to suck, and they don't want to do anything more. But some of these parents are simply struggling - they may want to do better, but don't see a way to do it any differently than they are. I want to do something for those people. Something big maybe, or something small; something that helps all of them or just one at a time. But something, anything, has got to give so that more parents have the tools and perspectives to treat their children with love and respect and dignity. Because, after all, that's all our children are really asking of us.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Editor's note: This article is excerpted from one that originally appeared on <a href="http://asoftplacetolandparenting.blogspot.com/p/about.html#jeff" target="_blank">Jeff</a>'s blog. You can read the article in its entirety <a href="http://justabaldman.blogspot.com/2010/05/wanted-new-parent.html">here</a>.</span>Ronniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04394775601858204784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091597216987311168.post-8004314736248513612013-06-23T17:15:00.001-07:002013-06-23T17:15:18.862-07:00grow<em>Contributed by <a href="http://asoftplacetolandparenting.blogspot.com/p/about.html#ren" target="_blank">Ren Allen</a></em><br />
<br />
Gentle parenting is something we choose, not based on our child's behavior but based on how we want to treat the humans in our lives. Nobody said it would be easy every second. Nobody said it would guarantee some result. Except in yourself. I grow more as a human by choosing this path. I have a son who is "on the spectrum" and provides a lot of opportunities for me to grow. <br />
<br />
I read posts in which parents complain about their kid, or say rude things about them and then wonder why their relationships are not harmonious. Start with celebrating the child you have...right here, right now. Anybody can throw their adult weight around and use put-downs or punishment. Gentle parenting requires growth and creative thinking. Ronniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04394775601858204784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091597216987311168.post-44732382004120600622013-06-23T15:57:00.000-07:002013-06-23T17:15:34.289-07:00time in<em>Contributed by <a href="http://asoftplacetolandparenting.blogspot.com/p/about.html#shannon" target="_blank">Shannon Loucks</a></em><br />
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Often the world around us sends a message that when the going gets tough, we need a time-out. We get this in commercials for tired parents who need a vacation from it all, and from mainstream parenting books that insist that a troubled child certainly needs a time-out to regain their composure (or, more honestly, to behave the way the parent would prefer).<br />
<br />
Recently, through my own tough moments, I have begun to recognize that time-ins actually work much more smoothly to restore peace. Time-in connection with my children fills me up and reminds me just why I want to spend so much time with them. Time-in connection with my children heals the places within me that perhaps were undernourished.<br />
<br />
Time-in, one-on-one relationship with each of my children feeds a need within us both to blossom and grow in our awareness of one another. <br />
<br />
Time-in relationship with my partner heals the rushed moments and un-thoughtful comments that have passed between us in hurried interactions.<br />
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Time-in reflection with myself restores my commitment to live fully, joyfully, respectfully, lovingly, and passionately.Ronniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04394775601858204784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091597216987311168.post-23117290092840240822013-06-22T18:20:00.000-07:002013-06-22T18:20:41.794-07:00are you listening?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBfoEwSM7VJP5OA2c3kdk5fKzV2Ube6SUD1VXeMIEN7dL5_K26RyWVPiRscwP1KkIRivp2muciJo17GCNFzVG_1u8hS8khNzFwsDSNiHSc7OzNrcaLAakcEEdkq_ITUdjR8SoUbTqtacs-/s1600/areyoulistening.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBfoEwSM7VJP5OA2c3kdk5fKzV2Ube6SUD1VXeMIEN7dL5_K26RyWVPiRscwP1KkIRivp2muciJo17GCNFzVG_1u8hS8khNzFwsDSNiHSc7OzNrcaLAakcEEdkq_ITUdjR8SoUbTqtacs-/s1600/areyoulistening.jpg" /></a></div>
<i>Contributed by <a href="http://asoftplacetolandparenting.blogspot.com/p/about.html#Sue" target="_blank">Sue Patterson</a></i>
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When I was little, I was one of those children who talked a lot and LOUDLY. I can remember my cousin actually turning to my dad and saying, “Does she have a volume button?” My mom, who had an exhausting job, would have to come home to this high energy kid who wanted to talk and talk and talk. I can remember sitting on the floor while she read the paper or a book. I’d ask her, “Are you listening?” “Mhm,” would be her reply.<br />
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When my kids were little, I was trying to juggle a variety of things at once, and the internet was just taking off and I was thrilled about talking with other moms from around the country. My kids would ask me questions and bring something to show me. They’d ask me, “Are you listening?” “Mhm,” would be my reply.<br />
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I think you’ll be able to relate to at least one of these scenarios. Everyone has probably been the victim or the ignorer at some point in their lives. No one is doing anything malicious in these situations; we’re just people, caught up in the moment. But I think as parents who want to do better – as PEOPLE who want to do better – we need to adjust ourselves. Tuning out our loved ones is a habit of laziness really, a lack of thoughtfulness. It’s not being fully conscious about the everyday life decisions we are making. I really want to be present with the people that are in my everyday life. And I want them to be present with me.<br />
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<a name='more'></a>Life flies by quickly. (At 50, I’m well aware of that fact.) You don’t want to miss it! The people who are in our lives are there because we value them. They deserve our attention. Real attention. The attention we give indicates to them how much we love them, how much we appreciate them, how much they MATTER in our lives. If your child wants to talk with you, appreciate it and give them your full attention. You can be sure they are taking note of how you interact with them. It tells them their worth and your interest in them. And think of how that translates for later in their life. If their mother is not interested in them, who will be? These are big messages we are conveying, and so often, we don’t even realize it’s happening.<br />
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Make an agreement that there will be actual conversation with the person in front of you – your child, your partner, your friend. Put down the phone, stop reading your email, don’t glance at your Facebook newsfeed. Let people know that they DO matter to you. Look them in the eyes and really listen.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Editor's note: This article is adapted from one that originally appeared on <a href="http://asoftplacetolandparenting.blogspot.com/p/about.html#Sue" target="_blank">Sue</a>'s blog.</span>Ronniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04394775601858204784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091597216987311168.post-4099082341753466882013-06-22T11:51:00.000-07:002013-06-22T18:23:06.343-07:00control<i>Contributed by <a href="http://asoftplacetolandparenting.blogspot.com/p/about.html#ronnie" target="_blank">Ronnie Maier</a></i>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">"Sooner or later we will come to the edge <br />of all that we can
control <br />and find life, waiting there for us."
<br />~ Rachel Naomi Remen, M.D.
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This quote is featured in our Quote Zone, and I love it. It's from Dr. Remen's book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/My-Grandfathers-Blessings-Strength-Belonging/dp/1573228567/" target="_blank">My Grandfather's Blessings</a>, which I discovered several years ago while on a personal odyssey (as it turned out) visiting a friend in New Mexico. <br />
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It had quite an impact on me.
I come from a long line of detail-oriented women who (attempt to) leave very little to chance. When my kids were small, my need for control — and it approached obsessive-compulsive levels in those sleep-deprived days — caused a lot of pain in this house.
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It's hard for me to look back at that time objectively. Frank and I have always encouraged exploration and individuality to some degree, and we did a lot that can be classified as attachment parenting (nursing on demand, letting the girls self-wean, holding them whenever they wanted, cosleeping in one big family bed). I look at photographs and home movies from the girls' childhood, and they were undoubtedly happy kids who knew they were loved and cared for.
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But. <br />
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I remember times that don't show up in those images, times when I screamed and they cried, when I lost my temper and did regrettable things ranging from throwing things at walls to tearing up the girls' new coloring books to spanking them. And I remember 2-year-old Chloe hiding under the diningroom table one afternoon while MJ and I engaged in our latest battle of wills.
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I knew that couldn't continue. And since I had gone so far to the punitive side, I knew more of the same or a harsher version of the same was not the answer. I discovered <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Positive-Discipline-Jane-Nelsen-Ed-D/dp/0345487672" target="_blank">Positive Discipline</a> by Jane Nelsen and began to relinquish control in small ways, letting the girls choose between the red shirt or the blue shirt, and letting them experience a few essentially harmless natural consequences instead of trying to prevent every negative thing. I began, for the first time, to put myself in my kids' shoes and see what the world looked like from down there.<br />
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My motives in this were still rooted in control to a certain extent: punitive discipline wasn't producing the behavior I wanted, but maybe positive discipline <em>would</em>. I'm being a bit overly harsh with myself there, because of course it broke my heart and filled me with guilt when I hurt my kids, and I genuinely wanted better for all of us. But a zebra doesn't shed her stripes quite that quickly, and I know that when I offered the red shirt or the blue shirt, what I really wanted was a kid who was wearing a damned shirt.
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But it was a start. I had gained awareness of my own intense need for control and begun to explore the reasons for it. And I discovered that letting go of some control didn't kill me or anyone else. In fact, life improved by leaps and bounds, and, gradually, when I offered the red shirt or the blue shirt, it was because I wanted my child to have choices.
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I also discovered that my kids did not have unreasonable wishes and needs. When I stepped into their shoes, I found that the things they wanted were good, healthy, and easy to provide. Imagine that!
So I let go a little more. And every time I did, I was richly rewarded (positive reinforcement), and the process fed itself.
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I think my enthusiasm for acceptance is another step in this journey, so I'll close with a quote from Dr. Remen about that.
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">"The greatest blessing we offer others may be <br />the belief we have in their struggle for freedom, <br />the courage to support and accompany them <br />as they determine for themselves the strength <br />that will become their refuge and the foundation of their lives."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Editor's note: This article is adapted from one that originally appeared on <a href="http://asoftplacetolandparenting.blogspot.com/p/about.html#ronnie" target="_blank">Ronnie</a>'s blog.</span><br />
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Ronniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04394775601858204784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091597216987311168.post-86170135033962011002013-06-22T01:12:00.000-07:002013-06-22T01:24:04.629-07:00picture thisWhen people talk about raising their kids without punishment, what pictures come to your mind, and what assumptions are you making about how their kids behave and what their lives are like?<br />
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Now ask yourself: What if your imagination is failing you?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnH4JnrtrDbN0jLLEfqTiIm0s2V5Ol1D1F3LQ_T1WPk58OPugKYJR08zn49U3LRPP21Yze9idkrDZX5RUUg0p4MIFTUru0Wkx-1dPhV8mD71J47_eSTlQ6d-ai4caQPVxou8V1SMMN_QdU/s1600/RonnieChloe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnH4JnrtrDbN0jLLEfqTiIm0s2V5Ol1D1F3LQ_T1WPk58OPugKYJR08zn49U3LRPP21Yze9idkrDZX5RUUg0p4MIFTUru0Wkx-1dPhV8mD71J47_eSTlQ6d-ai4caQPVxou8V1SMMN_QdU/s320/RonnieChloe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Ronniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04394775601858204784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091597216987311168.post-74692043571771381902013-06-22T00:37:00.001-07:002013-06-22T01:09:41.721-07:00destroying the village to save itA <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ben_Tre#Vietnam_War" target="_blank">(mis)quote</a> came out of the Vietnam War:<br />
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<quote><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"We had to destroy the village in order to save it."</span></quote><br />
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<quote>It's a philosophy that far too much of traditional parenting appears to embrace: break the child down in order to help her grow up right.</quote><br />
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<quote>If this sounds counterintuitive to you, it's because IT IS. The only thing that breaking down a child accomplishes is <em>breaking down a child</em>. Don't.</quote><br />
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<quote>Coming soon: Click the "destroying the village" label below to read articles about parenting practices we find dangerous and why.</quote>Ronniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04394775601858204784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091597216987311168.post-58665466627076407492013-06-21T23:52:00.002-07:002013-06-22T00:10:43.921-07:00spankingSet aside the debate. Ask yourself a simple question: <br />
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<em>If</em><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">—</span>just if<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">—</span>there's a way to achieve for your kids all the things that you're hoping for, for them, that does <em>not </em>involve spanking or other punishment, would you like to learn more about it?<br />
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If you answered "yes," you're in the right place.Ronniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04394775601858204784noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091597216987311168.post-63667158302257243472013-06-21T01:07:00.000-07:002013-06-23T16:27:53.129-07:00ask usComing soon!<br />
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Send your questions to <strong>asoftplacetoland </strong>at <strong>outlook.com</strong>.Ronniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04394775601858204784noreply@blogger.com