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I was having lunch in a fast food “restaurant” the other day when a conflict arose between a little girl and her mom. They were on the other side of a partition, so I could only hear the exchange. I have no idea what the original conflict was about, but at this point the mom just wanted the daughter, who had wandered away, to come back to the table so they didn’t have to broadcast their dispute to all the patrons. Must not have occurred to mom that she could stand up and go get her little girl.

“No Mommy, I don’t want to”, was said in an obvious not inside voice.

“Angelica, come here to mommy right now” said an exasperated and embarrassed mother in forced hushed tones.

“No.”

“Angelica, mommy wants you to walk right back over here right now.”

“Angelica…”

Silence.

“Honey, will you please come closer so mommy can talk to you?”

“I don’t wanna.”

Silence.

“Angelica, don’t make me count.”

“No wanna do.”

“Alright then, mommy is just going to have to count. Do you want to be in trouble? Please don’t make mommy count.”

Silence.

“Mommy’s going to count then. See how you like being in trouble.”

“One.”

“See, now mommy is counting. Are you ready to obey mommy?”

Screaming: “I no wanna doooooo.”

“Honey, mommy is counting now. If you don’t come to me you will get in trouble.”

“Two.”

 . . . .

“Three. . . See, now I am at three. Okay, okay, mommy sees you moved closer to her. I will give Angelica until FIVE now before she is in trouble.”

 . . . .

“Four.”

 . . . .

“Five.”

“Did you hear mommy say five?”

 . . . .

“Okay, there now. See that wasn’t so hard to walk back to mommy. That’s a good girl. Should we pick out an ice cream for the good girl before we go home?”

I wasn’t looking at my watch, but I bet this little tug-o-war took at least 3 minutes.

Who won?

I really felt for this frustrated Mom as she was wrestling for power and control with her preschooler. I am sure that she wanted to just have a simple meal that didn’t require doing dishes afterward. And the Mom was obviously trying to be considerate of the other customers who were trying to enjoy their meals, too.

A lot of parents fall into the counting trap. We sure did.

Looking back, I can’t think of one good reason to give a grace count after a parent has instructed a child to obey in some particular way. Perhaps this sounds rigid and dogmatic to you; but does “counting” mimic anything in real life? Do you get a 5-count to get that operations report into your boss? Is there a 3-count for running red lights?

Expecting our children to obey right away is only fair to the child. Said another way, allowing a grace count while a child decides whether or not it is worth it to bend his will to mommy is bad parenting. Here are a few reasons why I make this claim:

• Counting is lying. Every time a parent gives this particular kind of “grace” to a child, it says to the child, “I didn’t really mean what I told you. Take your time and explore ways to get around my request.” The payoff comes much later in life when you will hope to convince this child that alcohol, drugs, skipping school and premarital sex are bad ideas for a 13 year old. He will naturally assume that he gets a 5-count for this stuff, too.
• Counting encourages kids to test the limits of authority. To a small child, the ultimate authority of the universe is Mom and Dad. When parents cause a child to believe that it is okay to delay submission, it is reasonable to assume they will carry those beliefs into their thoughts about God and other authority figures in life. We should be encouraging kids to press the limits in life, but certainly not against parental authority.
• Counting creates a “winner” mentality where it doesn’t belong. Of course we want to foster a positive self image in our little ones. But do I really want to make each act of obedience into a “win or lose” proposition? Think about my Angelica example: she “won” on several levels, including being rewarded with an ice cream. Winning feels good. Guess how high mommy will have to count next time? But let’s say that Angelica’s mommy gave Angelica some discipline for forcing her to count and Angelica apologizes to mommy. Now mommy wins the 5-count war, which is a hollow victory also. It would be best if “winner-loser” didn’t even get injected in discipline issues. Make ‘em winners on the sports field and in school.
• Counting increases frustration for the parent. Now ask yourself the question, “Why did we choose to have kids?” Was your answer, “Because I need bigger ulcers and I love to hear word NO repeated incessantly”? Of course not: we have kids because we want to share in the joy they provide. Sure we know that challenges are naturally a part of child rearing. But why introduce extra frustration on purpose? Poor behavior is reinforced when a child sees that mom or dad won’t mean what they say for a while longer. Wanna hear and see “NO” more often?:Put off consequences. Counting indicates your willingness to accept extended disobedience.
• Counting diminishes the authority of parents. Parenting is a wonderful mixture of fun, hard work, some tears, pride, and many more ingredients. Seems that the parental authority ingredient often gets substituted by some weaker value. Kids need the security and structure of overarching authority if they are to develop into balanced adults. Parents need to carefully tread the beam between iron-fistedness and best-buddyness, but must ensure that the child does not mistake himself as the authority figure in the home.

There is no harder job than being a good parent. Why make it even harder by offering a grace count in response to your child’s willful disobedience? Really, you will notice a lot less tension (in you and your child) once this kind of tug-o-war is eliminated from your child-training and discipline efforts.

Blessings

Technorati Tags: discipline

This past Friday, the wife and I attended the funeral for her good friend Ro. Something happened with her girls before the service started that really got me to thinking.

Ro’s youngest daughter, age 6, was playing with her little cousin at the front of the church where the flowers and the urn were placed. Actually, her urn was a pretty ochre colored hinged box that would naturally pique the curiosity of any first grader. You guessed it- she opened the box. Fortunately her 14 year old sister saw what was going on and stopped a potential disaster before it unfolded. But little Jane wondered out loud what was in the pretty box. The only thing her sister could think to say was “Candy. But don’t ever get into that again.”

That was on Friday afternoon. Not much more was said about the incident and the rest of the service was really nice. Ro was a wonderful mom and friend, and there was no shortage of people who wanted to tell stories about knowing Ro.

Saturday morning, we took Ro’s girls to the lake for a day of decompression and  tubing behind the boat. We hoped that getting them away from their usual surroundings would be cathartic for them. We also hoped to create an atmosphere for them to talk about anything they might be feeling about the death of their mother.

At one point in the day, the beautiful and wise Postmistress got alone with the 12 and 14 year old girls, and they got on the subject of Mom and heaven when she mentioned the incident with their mom’s ashes. These girls were starved for information. They barely understood anything about cremation. Nobody had given them any context to associate the ashes in the box with the mother they loved. The sum total of their dad’s counsel was “We’ll see mom on the other side.”

And this is from a man who claims to be a christian.

These girls had no idea about heaven or anything about what happens to people when they die. For over an hour, they peppered my wife with all sorts of questions that should have been answered months ago. They wondered if she is playing a harp on a cloud above streets paved with gold. Could Mom see them right now? Is she bored up there? Does she still feel pain? Is she sad?

It would take me ten thousand words or more to give you the answers she gave to those girls about an issue that has become very relevant to them now.

Point is- there are answers to “heaven” questions.

And I wonder how many of us adults would be comfortable explaining to a teenager what happens to a person after they die. I mean really dealing with the hard questions from a perspective of knowledge rather than hopefulness. I wager very few of us.

It would be hard for most of us because I believe most of us have not thought fully through the process of death and dying. It seems so strange to me that we will invest so much time and energy into understanding the whole birth process, but choose to be fairly ignorant of the process of dying and death.  Obviously funerals are not nearly so fun as births, but still, don’t we owe it to ourselves and our families to have honest, hopeful, cogent answers?

Perhaps some of our reticence comes about because an effort to comprehend death brings us around to deciding what it is we believe about God. Not preaching here- just saying. If I am fuzzy about the God business, then I am for sure going to be fuzzy about the death thing, too. Can’t see how it could be any other way.

Would you think a manly man would willingly leave his kids with unanswered questions about death and dying? Is it truly fair to allow your kids to wonder, just because you are uncomfortable dealing with death? Can you see that it might be a part of our job description to know the answers to such questions? Don’t you think that a manly man would want to give his family the tools to deal with this subject?

So how prepared is your family?

Blessings

Not lead, LEAD. I am not talking about that heavy metal (pb) lead here.

Lead: as in led, lead, leader, leadership. That’s it.

Becoming a worthy leader to my kids is just about the hardest part of being a dad. I did not read the fine print in the Fatherhood contract well enough when we decided to batter egg with seed. Had I known, we might have had 4 fewer kids. Who knows.

My two older teenagers like to ride dirtbikes with me. We don’t do it often enough, unfortunately.

Here in southern California, we have vast tracts of open desert for us to ride in. It is not hard at all to cover dozens, if not more than a hundred miles of trails in an afternoon. The potential for getting totally lost is very real. Also, the possibility of having a wreck that disables one of the bikes or a rider is always on my mind. Being stranded dozens of miles from a road is no fun. Getting into trouble can happen in an instant: getting out can take days if one is that kind of unlucky.

Now I have been riding since before I could legally drive, so I have enough experience to keep the shiny side up most of the time. And I have been lost in the desert and have had to spend the night away from camp, waiting for daybreak. Turns out I am no good at navigating by the stars. I now know to carry a little emergency kit that has some essential survival tools anytime I go out.

When we ride together, I usually take the lead, which is fine with me ’cause I hate eating dust. But there are inherent dangers and distractions in being the lead guy. The leader runs over the snakes. He finds the half buried barb wire. He finds the unexpected ravine or open mineshaft. He discovers the big rock behind the little bush in the trail. The leader is the one constantly looking up and out for landmarks. The leader is the one constantly looking back to make sure everyone is still rightside up and close by. He must judge the skills of the other riders and not ride so fast as to cause the slowest rider to exceed his ability. Yet, to keep it fun, the leader needs to maintain a speed that keeps everyone challenged. The leader keeps his eye out for fun detours like steep hillclimbs or deep sandy washes that will induce pride in the riders once conquered. The leader’s gotta keep tabs on everyone’s fuel. A good leader, though he could do it, does not outrun his posse.

A good leader gives the boys confidence to ride faster and better than they could have if they were by themselves. Because he is really taking most of the risks for them. The bad stuff happens to the guy in the lead: the followers get to watch and laugh at his misfortune. All the boys need to do is keep upright and look to Dad for clues as to what is coming up on the trail. If they see me stand up real tall on the pegs, they know I am probably looking for the bottom of a ditch or ravine I am about to drop into. They know to slow down and see if dad comes out okay at the other end. I give them hand signals to indicate if they should go left or right, or slow way down. Basically, they have confidence that I will keep them moving at a safe, but challenging pace.

Their fun is magnified because the risks are minimized. I provide cover for their lack of experience.

Sometimes, one of the boys says, “I wanna lead for a while.” And I always let them. ‘Course they are only out front- Dad is still doing all the other work of navigation and keeping everyone together. But the point is that he feels like the leader. Nevermind that he forgot to look up or back for 15 minutes. He feels good that he just stayed upright while in the leadership position. We don’t ride nearly as fast, or take as many fun detours as when dad leads, but that is okay. We never get lost, but sometimes we discover new ways of getting home.

I can tell the boys how to ride, but they learn best while following. Case in point: My second oldest, the gazelle (called that for how he runs on the soccer field.), wanted to lead for awhile. I noted to him that the road we were riding on was hard packed and covered with loose sand. Very slippery in the corners, requiring a particular style of riding. Brake early, steady in the turns, forward on the seat, and accelerate out of the corners. I reminded him to keep his weight on the inside foot (which is quite counter-intuitive).

You probably guessed what happened. He launched, he rode for 30 seconds, he crashed. Hard. In the first sharp turn.

See, I told him what to do, but he just got lost in the moment and forgot my instructions. He wanted to be the leader, but hadn’t followed long enough so that his body knew instinctively how to handle the situation. His body limped for a few weeks after that episode.

Now, I am thinking of leadership at home. I tell my kids so much, hoping they will stay on the straight and narrow path. But where they learn their best lessons is when they see leadership modeled.

Let’s take lying for example.

We work hard to reinforce that lying is always wrong.

But sometimes I really don’t mean it. At least as far as my kids can see.

Let’s say you spot Pastor O’Flaherty coming up the front walk. Pastor is really a nice fellow but he stays until your eyelids droop, or you run out of beer. Whichever comes first. And tonight is poker night, so you are well stocked in the fridge.

“Honey”, you say to your 5-year old, “Why don’t you run to the front door and tell the nice Pastor that daddy is not feeling too well today and would Pastor mind coming back next week. I will be in the bathroom throwing up if he asks.”

Honey learns that convenience trumps ethics.

Or, let’s say you are a tightwad like me and buy most everything used. You have undoubtedly had to fill out the bill of sale for the DMV and must decide what to place in the “value” box. Last time I bought a used vehicle, the seller made it real easy. “How much do you want me say that you paid?” she asked. Open invitation to save a little on taxes. The boys were standing with us. “You write exactly what I paid”, I told her.

Junior learns that integrity is not free of charge.

I bought a remanufactured alternator from our local Kragen, which failed after the second day. So I decided to just bite the bullet and get a brand new one from Ford and return the broken one to Kragen. Through a complicated chain of events, the moron assistant manager would not give me the money back for the original alternator core, so I was out 60 bucks or so. He refunded the money for the broken new alternator, and my oldest son and I left the store in a huff, never counting the money. We were fuming that we felt ripped off and he had wasted hours of our time. Not to mention the hassle that his faulty alternator had caused us.

So as we are getting into my truck I decide to count the refund money, figuring he would have screwed it up. Turns out he did. In our favor. By $58.00. I looked at my son, incredulous. “It will take that moron hours to figure out how to credit this back if we take this money back” I said.

“Doing the right thing is going to cost us another hour across the counter with that idiot, Dad.”

And without skipping a beat, he says, “Let’s go back inside and do the right thing.”

Dad was tempted to give in on this one. Junior held the line. I thanked him later for not flinching at wanting to do the right thing. And I confessed that I didn’t want to do it, but I was so proud that he did.

Fatherhood is about living in a fishbowl. Our children watch us all the time and from every angle.

Right now, I am thinking ahead to my boys’ Fathers Days many years in the future. Thinking about what their kids will think of them. Hoping that my grandkids will be proud of my sons-their dads.

And reminding myself that I am teaching them how to lead, once it becomes their turn, with their kids.

• Have my lessons been repeated enough times?
• Do they have a clear idea of  ”what would dad say or do” ?
• Have I given them ample opportunities to become leaders themselves?
• Have I let them fail a little bit?
• Have I let them see how I admit to my failures?
• Do I praise them for the right and ethical decisions they make?

This Father’s Day- Let’s commit to make it not a day merely of ties and cologne- Let’s dedicate it to the future fathers of America (or whatever country you live in). Let’s  give forward to the next generation of dads, whether they are your sons or the husbands of your daughters. Let’s make this Father’s Day a day of rededicating ourselves to leading our children by word and deed.

Blessings

Technorati Tags: fatherhood, leadership

Father’s Day is fast approaching, and now would be a great time to give some helpful suggestions if you don’t want another tie or more cologne.

I am trying to think of ideas that would be fun for both the giver and receiver. Personalized items, handmade gifts, or interactive type games would be great Dad’s Day ideas. Here are a few I’ve come up with:

• A personalized pedicure from your daughter
• A LEGO vehicle that you can build together and place on a bookshelf
• A Junior sized football
• A Bocce Ball set
• A Daddy Build-a-Bear (to construct together)
• A book of paper airplane designs
• Roller Blades
• A handmade paperweight (Painted rock, old baby shoe . . .)
• A hand painted picture frame
• Start a collection of something (Corvette models, movie posters . . .)
• A frisbee
• Something from a joke shop that can become “our joke” like an icecube fly, full-my-finger pen, whoopee cushion, invisible ink for special love notes, plastic dog poo. . .
• Playing cards with unique backs like Little Princess, Bob the Builder, etc
• Tickets to a AAA ballgame
• A kite kit
• Kids handprints in plaster
• Imprint little handprints on a tee-shirt
• Pen holder made from a can or jar
• A piggy bank made of a coffee can
• A Twister game (playable by Mommy and Daddy after hours;)
• A fruit tree for the yard
• Tickets to a kid movie

Feel free to add to the list!

What has been a really memorable Father’s Day gift that you have either given or received?

Blessings

Technorati Tags: Father's Day