Have Your Cake and Eat It Too

I wrote last time about how it’s our job as parents to provide clear instruction – delivered calmly and methodically with an appropriate amount of practice and repetition – as we help our children to learn. This applies equally as much to academic content and what we might call life skills. Kids and teens need direct instruction and modeling.

They also need us to pay close attention to the processes in which they’re engaged as they learn, not just the final products. Let me once again return to writing to illustrate my point.

Too often with written composition, a student is given an assignment: “Write about xyz.” He’s generally given a few basic parameters – i.e., how long the essay should be, its due date – but rarely anything substantive, such as the piece’s intended audience or its purpose. And talking about the actual writing process - let alone walking a young person through it – is rarer still. Thus, all a kid knows is that he’s supposed to turn in three paragraphs or five pages about xyz in two weeks – oh, and to make sure it’s typed and double-spaced with one-inch margins. He has no clue about how to begin and then work his way through the several steps of a logical process to produce truly good writing. Instead, he guesses at how to throw together a product, then holds his breath until his classroom teacher or homeschool mom gives the paper back with a grade scrawled on top, often without any other feedback. And he deems himself to be “good” or “bad” writer based solely on those letter-grades.

But helping young people learn to communicate clearly in writing is too important a skill to treat so haphazardly. If we want good products, we must spend time working through the process together with a child or teen. We must shift our perspective as well – choose to see our child as a learner rather than an assembly line worker – so the process becomes more important to us than the grade on the final product. Of course, if we do that, the product will be better too. But our emphasis must be on helping with the process.

Take some time to replace writing with any other learning task we expect of any of our kids – anything from mastering algebra or spelling to cutting the grass or cleaning the cat boxes. If we focus on the product, we’ll see success based on a natural gift or a fluke some of the time – but failure and frustration most of the time. If we emphasize the process, though, we get to have our cake (a good product) and to eat it (spending meaningful time positively coaching our kids in something important) too.

CK

Photo Credit: Mallory Matson

Don the Mantle

“Write about your summer vacation.”

“Write a book report.”

“Write an essay about the Battle of the Bulge.”

We’ve surely all seen directions like this – throughout our own childhoods, and also in the homeschool curricula we’ve purchased for our kids or in assignments sent home by our children’s teachers. Most of the time these directives come without further instruction. A child or teen is simply supposed to “know” how to write a paper appropriate to the task without actually having been explicitly taught how to do so. And their first attempts are graded (judged) as final products without an acknowledgement that the production of solid writing is actually a process involving multiple steps. The few who have a natural propensity toward written composition figure it out and are labeled “good writers.” Everyone else feels hopelessly lost, believing they “should” know what to do and beating themselves up because they don’t. Is it any wonder that most kids and adults say they “hate writing?”

The same is true for other learning tasks, academic or otherwise.

Do you tell your child to clean his room, only to be baffled an hour later when a few things have been shuffled around but it basically looks the same? Have you assigned your tween the chore of doing the dishes but found yourself frustrated later at spotty glasses and bits of food still stuck to the plates? Have you sent your teen off to “study for the test,” and then been dumbfounded when she gets a D on it anyway?

There are times, to be sure, when kids are simply lazy or disobedient. But before we accuse them of that, I think we owe it to them to consider whether or not we’ve actually taught them – step-by-step – how to appropriately complete a particular task. “Good writing” doesn’t just fall from the sky; we must invest the time necessary to carefully instruct young people in the writing process – and then let the process play out from beginning to final draft. We must clean a child’s room with him several times, modeling and talking through what we expect and why. We must demonstrate with grace – more than once – how to best load the dishwasher in order to achieve the desired results. We should devote time to helping a teen study, explaining, experimenting with, and practicing different methods of review that work for various subject areas or with her particular learning style.

If we can honestly say we have provided clear instruction – delivered calmly and methodically with an appropriate amount of practice and repetition – and a child still repeatedly messes up, there might be something else going on. Until then, though, it’s our job as parents to don the mantle of teacher/trainer, not disciplinarian or judge.

CK

Photo Credit: Openclipart

Do Your Children Know You Believe In Them?

A little over two months ago, our younger daughter came home to announce that she and her beau – who was with her – had eloped earlier that afternoon. We love the young man who is now our son-in-law and had fully supported an eventual marriage. But this was stunning news, made all the more surprising because she had turned 18 less than a week prior to the elopement.

Whether or not my husband and I – or our older daughter – agreed with the timing of the marriage or the means in which it was carried out, we had a choice to make. We could allow our shock to morph into anger and hard-heartedness, or we could work through our astonishment toward acceptance.

Though we each took a different route to get there, we all chose the latter. In my opinion, this was the right landing place, for at least three reasons. First, our daughter and son-in-law’s only possible sin in the matter was a sin of omission – i.e., keeping the elopement plans a secret. In reality, though, I’m not sure that was sin; it may simply have been a decision with which we didn’t necessarily agree. Second, Christ’s love calls us to reconciliation and relationship, particularly where there’s repentance. And both of them were extremely remorseful once they realized how sad we were at being left out of the decision. Third, I’m a Momma Bear; thus, for my part at least, there’s nothing my kids could do that would ever cause me to sever relationship with them.

Ultimately, I didn’t want my daughter and son-in-law to feel insecure around me. I wanted to communicate to them that I believe in them and in their ability to grow a solid, God-centered marriage that will stand the test of time, even if I wasn’t expecting it to start quite as soon as it did.

I’ve said that to them many times over the past nine weeks and will continue to find ways to do so going forward. We also chose to demonstrate our belief in them by hosting a post-elopement reception, which gave us a chance to acknowledge them publicly – in front of friends and family – as a legitimate married couple.

Whatever the particulars in each family, every parent will need to find ways with every child – many times throughout their lives – to say and demonstrate that we believe in them – and in their ability to stay or get back on a healthy path in life. They want this from us. In fact, they need it. So think on it; is there something you must say or do today to show one of your children that you believe in him or her?

CK

They Will Not Depart

When I was a young college student sitting in Kathy’s education classes, I didn’t take compliments well. I was a perfectionist who didn’t see the point of a compliment unless I performed perfectly. Of course, I rarely reached that goal in my own estimation so I never felt worthy of praise.

Because Kathy was the faculty advisor for the InterVarsity Christian Fellowship group to which I belonged and also attended the same church as I, we soon became friends. And she began to gently challenge my thinking as I deflected her compliments. I was a baby Christian so I was still trying to grasp even the basics of God’s infinite love for His children, but one thing Kathy said early-on has stuck with me ever since: “If we don’t graciously accept a compliment, we’re insulting God.” Why? Because by downplaying or rejecting a compliment, we’re essentially saying that the way in which God has wired and gifted us is junk.

I still didn’t believe anything I did was praiseworthy, but I sure didn’t want to hurt the God I’d just embraced as Savior and Lord. When I voiced this to Kathy, she encouraged me to essentially fake it till I made it. She suggested I stop trying to explain why I wasn’t worthy of a compliment and, instead, simply say, “Thank you,” no matter how strange that felt.

Fast forward quite a few years and my husband and I were raising two beautiful girls, then in their early teens. We’d raised them using Kathy’s precepts for complimenting and correcting, but there came a time when one of them – when she was about 14 – suddenly began to push back at every compliment, despite their being real and wholly appropriate. I regularly reminded her of what her “Aunt Kathy” had taught me, but she struggled to say even the fake-it-till-you-make-it thank you.

Fast forward two more years and this girl was finally emerging from what she now calls her “angst-y phase.” And one day she said, “Thank you, Mom, for always reminding me that not accepting a compliment is offensive to God. I know it didn’t seem like I was hearing that the last couple of years, but I was. I felt so bad about myself I didn’t believe anything nice you or anyone else said, but in my head I always kept saying, ‘Thanks, God, even though I think they’re wrong.’ And doing that is part of what got me through the angst.”

Applying the principles that Kathy teaches about complimenting and correcting from early-on imprints those ideas on our kids’ minds and hearts. And – as with all godly precepts – our children will not depart from them when they are “old” …even if they take an occasional detour or two along the way (Proverbs 22.6).

CK

Photo Credit: Raj Vaishnaw

It’s about Relationship

A mom in a large homeschool group I moderate recently posted this anecdote:

Today, I am "that weird…mom." I didn't ground my son from video games or whatever normal people do. No, I banned him from paper for the day....

I [verbally] corrected him…about his chores while he was holding sheets of paper he was going to draw on, so he angrily threw them to the ground. I immediately told him to pick them up, so he [did]. [But then he] crumpled them up, which he also knew better than to do. So, I told him he was banned from paper for the rest of the day.

He whined, "But what if I need it for my schoolwork?"

I just replied, "You won't," and went back to what I was doing.

So, no paper...No drawing, making airplanes, or crafts of any kind with paper for him today. I feel kind of bad taking one of his favorite hobbies
from him for the day since he's so creative, but that's part of trying to raise good people, I suppose.

The story is a perfect illustration of what Kathy Koch advises in Chapter 6 of Start with the Heart: “When you think about what logical consequences, treats, and bribes might motivate and help your children, think about who they are.”

For many kids, banning the use of paper for a day would be silly and irrelevant. But for this boy – whose mom obviously knows him very well and understands the need for consequences even when issuing them makes us uncomfortable – losing the ability to have paper for the day was logical (and also somewhat natural, given that he’d crumpled up and essentially wasted at least a few sheets).

Over the years as I’ve parented, I’ve seen lots of “parenting systems” come and go. Generally speaking, these systems promote using the same techniques delivered in the same manner with every child, promising “well-trained” children if the parents dutifully comply with all of the system’s precepts. This view treats children as if they’re robots or, perhaps, products on an assembly line instead of uniquely-designed human beings. I get angry with those promoting such lies and grieve for parents who buy into them.

Consistency in parenting is important. However, that doesn’t mean subjecting our children to a sterile, inhumane “system.” Good parenting is much more complex than that. Good parenting means taking the time to know each of our kids so intimately that we’ll learn when to most effectively teach, when to coach, when to cheer, and when to referee. It means we’ll come to understand what motivates a particular child at different stages of his life and then be consistent in the application of what is logical for him in that season. And it means we adapt our parenting techniques as each child grows and matures. It’s not about a system; it’s about relationship.

CK

Photo Credit: Valerie

Give Them a Gift

As Kathy describes in Chapter 6 of Start with the Heart, we can employ a number of different techniques to improve our kids’ motivation. All but one – natural consequences – involve us as parents making conscious choices about means and methods of punishment and reward. Natural consequences, though, occur…well, naturally. For example, the natural consequence of releasing your grip on a mug of coffee is that it will fall to the floor; the coffee will spill and the mug may even shatter. Because of gravity and other natural laws of physics, this is the expected (natural) consequence. You’re not surprised by it and, as you clean up the mess you’ve made, you process through what caused the accident (i.e., the handle was too hot) and consider ways to avoid a repeat performance (i.e., remembering to use a hot pad when grabbing a cup that’s likely to be too warm). 

Loving parents don’t want their kids to suffer. We would give our very lives for them and we would – if we could – take away all their pain. And we should, of course, do everything within our power to help them avoid serious injury. But we can’t wrap them in physical or mental bubble wrap; hurt of one sort or another will, unfortunately, come to each and every one of our kids. With that truth in mind, we can harness the power of appropriate natural consequences in little things to help our children learn lessons that may help them avoid serious issues down the line.

For example, one of my daughters wanted to quit guitar lessons about a year and a half after starting. However, rather than ask if she could give it up, she simply stopped practicing. I wasn’t aware of this for several weeks because she typically practiced in her room behind closed doors, and she actually told me more than once that she was practicing. When her lies to me became apparent, I obviously dealt with that via logical, negative consequences; I never take lying lightly. In addition, though, I let her suffer the natural consequences of her choice – i.e., she felt embarrassed at her lessons when she went unprepared and eventually had to confess her behavior and apologize to her guitar teacher. I hated to see her in pain; it would have been “easier” to make excuses for her. However, if I’d stepped in to save her some short-term angst, I’d have prevented her from learning some very important lessons that will apply all throughout her life. In case you’re wondering, I did allow her to stop taking lessons since her initial interest had waned – but only after she’d worked through all the consequences of her poor choice.

We obviously can’t let our kids suffer natural consequences all the time; it would be immoral, for example, to knowingly let a child touch the flame on a stovetop or to knowingly drop a teen off at a beer party. But it’s damaging in different ways – not to mention impossible – to try “protecting” them from every natural consequence. Instead, give them the gift of working through relatively harmless natural consequences with your guidance and support.

CK

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Photo Credit: SabrinaDan Photo

Do What’s Necessary

My “Irish Twin” daughters generally got along quite well as they were growing up. Being human, though, they’ve had their share of disagreements and fights, and when they were younger, one tended to rile her sister verbally with teasing while the other expressed her frustration physically, by knocking her sister down and sometimes biting. In either case, of course – as well as when one or the other did something inappropriate or sassy unrelated to her sister – it was my job to play referee and mete out discipline.

However, having grown up with parents who were not Christians and who both struggled with the effects of generational dysfunction in their families of origin, I was literally afraid of “discipline” for a long time. I didn’t want to yell the way my anxious, stressed-out mom had, and I certainly didn’t want to punch holes in furniture and walls like my father. In fact, my fear of repeating their mistakes led my husband and me to delay having children until I was in my early thirties.

I eventually grew in my faith enough to “risk” having kids, and my older daughter was a very laid-back baby. But I was grateful to learn of a church in my town that offered a Bible study in “biblical mothering” shortly after the older had turned one, when my younger daughter was just a few months old. With one child entering toddlerhood, the class came at the perfect time in my life, and the principles taught in the study provided a perfect balance between grace and truth, as it were, teaching me how to properly discipline as necessary while still maintaining a foundation of love.

For a long time, I thought I was alone in my fear of disciplining children. But from having interacted with many moms through the course of my kids’ lives, I’ve (sadly) learned that many wrestle with the same fear – i.e., of going overboard into abuse. As a result, I know many parents who don’t play referee for their kids at all, believing they can simply “talk things out” and that the children will somehow “absorb” self-control as they grow up. 

The problem is that it doesn’t work that way. Young kids whose parents don’t referee and set boundaries for them grow up to be angry and depressed or out-of-control teens and young adults. We see the fruit of that all around us every day.

I know firsthand that the idea of disciplining a child is petrifying for some; I truly understand that from the bottom of my heart. But kids need proper discipline in order to properly grow and mature. If you – like me – honestly don’t know how to be a healthy referee, don’t abdicate. Instead, find a reliable parenting class or a trustworthy mentor and allow yourself to be taught – even “re-parented” if necessary. God will hold you to account for refereeing your kids one way or the other; do what’s necessary so that He can one day say to you, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

CK

Photo Credit:  YouTube

It’s All Right, It’s Okay

My high school math teacher was an incredibly nice guy. And he was also my small school’s varsity football coach, so he spent plenty of time hearing the chants of cheerleaders during good games and bad. However, his desire to be kind and encouraging detracted from his ability to be a realistic cheerleader for his students.

I’m no slouch in math…up to a certain point. The content in Algebra 1 made absolute sense to me, and I loved Geometry. With a few exceptions, I grasped the content in Algebra 2. But after that – in what was called “Math IV” in my school, a combination of Pre-Calculus and Trigonometry? Not so much.

I’m a good memorizer so I could plug in numbers to the different formulas. But the theory behind it eluded me, so memory took me only so far. And I was a very unhealthy perfectionist at that time, petrified of seeing anything other than A’s on my report cards. Mr. Long – bless his heart – allowed me to come in during his prep-time for extra one-on-one help. And he tried. But I know now that my brain’s capacity for truly comprehending mathematical concepts ends somewhere near the end of Algebra 2. I have absolute peace about that now, too.

But I didn’t back then, and Mr. Long knew it. So – in his default nice-guy mode – he put A’s on my report cards for Math IV all year long, giving me credit for effort where my computational ability fell short.

I know he meant well. But the A’s gave me a false sense of security and made me think – despite knowing the truth deep down inside myself – that I’d do just fine in college Calculus. I didn’t. And getting a C in that class – which may have been a bit of a gift from that professor as well – threw me into an emotional tailspin that lasted a long time.

Hindsight is always 20/20. And it’s difficult to have the courage to shout the realistic cheer when it becomes clear the team won’t pull off a victory. But with his naturally kind demeanor, Mr. Long could have done it. If he’d awarded grades based on my actual comprehension of the content and explained where he saw me in that realm, it would have been hard to take. But because we had a relationship, he could have helped me come to terms with my mathematical limitations. That would have saved me from incredible angst later on and enabled me to realistically reconsider my post-secondary plans before wasting considerable time and money.

No one is good at everything. God has designed each of us to be a unique human being and has laid out a unique plan for each of our lives, and that means each of us will soar in some areas and flounder in others. We need cheerleaders in our lives to urge us on in our areas of strength and redirect us when we’re unnecessarily stuck in our weaknesses. In the context of relationship, don’t be afraid to shake your pompoms and call out, “It’s all right, it’s okay. Try something new another day!”

CK

Photo Credit: ClipArtBarn

Invest Up-Front

When my kids were seven and eight, I was becoming frustrated with how hard it was to complete the homeschool lessons I felt were appropriate and necessary to accomplish each day while subsequently babysitting two preschoolers and a baby. There was no question that I’d continue to homeschool, and my family needed the childcare income so I couldn’t give that up. I had to find a solution that worked within my circumstances.

Shortly thereafter, I ran across an organizational tool, Sue Patrick’s Workbox System, that seemed promising. I bought the kit, poured over the instruction manual the day it arrived, and went shopping the next morning for supplies: portable shoe racks, plastic shoe boxes, colored card stock, laminating sheets (I already owned a laminator), and (lots and lots!) of Velcro. Watching me assemble the various pieces and then fill each box with a learning task piqued the girls’ curiosity; I used their interest to build anticipation about implementing the system.

But even though they’d observed me putting everything together, I didn’t expect them to automatically know what to do on our first day using it. Instead, I took a chunk of time to show them each part of the system, explaining its purpose, and then demonstrated how I expected them to move through the process. And during our first few days with it, I offered frequent reminders and encouragement. By the end of our first week, we were accomplishing twice as much bookwork in half the time as before! And it was such a hit that I developed a related system I called “Our Do-It Door” for chores and daily routines, and set up a box system for the preschoolers, who begged to be like “the big girls.”

Fast forward 10 years, and, though I’ve tweaked the system’s implementation to suit the girls’ needs as they’ve grown and matured, we still use its principles. In fact, taking time to set up a concrete organizational schema when they were young and coaching them in how to use it has been one of the most significant reasons they were able to become largely self-directed in their studies by the time they started high school.

We needed the tool – in this case, Sue Patrick’s brainchild – but that wasn’t enough. I also had to choose to invest time and energy into assembling it and then instructing and modeling its use. I had to listen to my kids and adapt when Sue’s suggestions didn’t quite meet our immediate needs, and I had to be patient as the girls learned how to complete the system’s steps. But it was all worth it, both in the short-term and over the long-run.

The same is true for any task – at any age – in which we need to teach and coach our kids. Investing up-front yields great benefit for them and for us.

CK

Spare the Red

I remember laughing out loud in one of my teacher-training classes over 20 years ago when the professor recommended not using red pen to correct student papers. He maintained that red is a “negative” color and that using it to mark up student work would stifle their motivation and self-esteem. Shortly thereafter, when I got my first job, my principal included “no use of red pens” among his rules for new teachers.

Perhaps someone had done psychological studies about the “damage” caused by red ink. Absent such evidence, though, I, frankly, thought the whole thing was silly. However, using colors other than red was a condition of my employment, so I took to using green and purple; by the time I transferred to a new school without that stricture, the habit was ingrained and has even stayed with me through my years homeschooling my daughters. Thus, though my girls tease me relentlessly – they think it’s silly too and assure me that they won’t be scarred by seeing red ink on their rough-draft essays and math pages – I’ve stuck with other-than-red all these years.

And, in a way, maybe there is something to it. I don’t believe red to be a “negative” color. But by not using it every day related to everyday tasks, maybe my students and kids haven’t been desensitized to it. Thus, when they do see red, maybe they pay close attention, knowing that whatever is marked in red must be extra important.

The same is true of our words. We’re busy, imperfect human beings so we can’t monitor and moderate every word that comes out of our mouths. But what would happen if we would purpose to use “red” words sparingly instead of regularly?

“No” is a good example. I don’t believe saying “no” damages children; kids need boundaries, after all. However, if we use it continually in regular everyday situations rather than seeking alternatives, I think we might desensitize kids to its use, making it less effective when we really need it (i.e., when a child is seconds away from touching a hot stove or running into the street). In non-emergency situations, can we choose to begin replacing auto-pilot “no” with more helpful, relationship-based communication (i.e., “I’m sorry, hon. We can’t have ice cream now because dinner is in half an hour.”)? I think we can.

The same goes for all our communication with children. The goal isn’t to stifle us into political correctness; red ink is not inherently evil! But when we keep our actual end-game in mind – helping the kids in our lives to grow and mature into joyful, healthy, productive adults – why wouldn’t we aim to use positive, instructive, and specific language as much as possible? In doing so, we’ll provide a positive model for our kids to emulate, we’ll deepen our relationships with them, and we’ll maintain the impact of red-letter words for when they’re truly necessary.

CK

The Soft Place

What if you knew that today was the last day you’d ever have with your child?

I know that’s an awful thought – and I pray God that all the children of every person reading this sentence outlive us by decades, and that we, too, live to a ripe old age. But life is but a mist and we don’t know what tomorrow will bring (Psalm 39.5, Psalm 144.4, James 4.14). So…what if?

You would surely want your child to know in his dying breath that he has been loved unconditionally by you. Or you’d want her to rest in the knowledge of your unfailing love as she received the news of your passing. And the only way to guarantee that outcome in death is to live it.

I’ve interacted with too many parents who feel it’s their job to “toughen up” their kids. I even once met a dad who questioned my decision to homeschool, believing I was depriving my children the “opportunity” to be bullied. We all know that our fallen world is messed up and that our kids will inevitably experience pain and loss “out there.” But, rather than mimic the cruelty of the world, wouldn’t it be better to maintain home – the arms of mom and dad – as their soft place to land?

That’s not to say we shouldn’t provide discipline and discipling as they grow and mature; indeed, setting logical boundaries and holding to them with consistency is one of our main parental responsibilities. And, in fact, doing so provides security for kids that enables them to know they are loved. But the manner in which we do so makes all the difference.

We can yell or we can coach. We can scold or we can guide. We can accuse or listen. We can presume the worst or seek redemption. We can tear down or build up. We can bemoan the child we don’t have or accept the one we do. We can offer malice or mercy.

We will not be perfect, of course. We will have moments when we scream at our kids. In our fallenness, we will make unfounded accusations. But if the overall “tone” we set within our homes is one of grace, our children will forgive our lapses – indeed, they’ll most likely forget them – and they’ll know they can trust and rely on their parents to speak truth in love.

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You will never have this day with your children again;

tomorrow they’ll be a little bit older than they are today.

Today is a gift. Breathe and notice. Smell and hold them,

study their faces and little feet, and pay attention.

Enjoy today; it will be over before you know it.

Relish the charms of the present.

~ Author Unknown

CK

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Photo Credit: Sai De Silva on Unsplash

Put on Your Coaching Hat

“He just keeps crying and crying!”
“Every day it’s another temper tantrum!”
“All she does is roll her eyes and slam doors.”

I regularly hear comments like this from parents in regards to their children and teens. Parents become exasperated with their kids’ behavioral issues and, because they’re fallible human beings, they respond in kind and sometimes even rant about their kids to friends and family members or in online forums.

Parenting is hard. It requires consistent, concerted effort, and we often fear that our feeble attempts will never bear fruit. But we won’t make things better by yelling at our kids to, “Just shape up!” And, while seeking wise counsel is one thing, it certainly won’t help to air their dirty laundry on the internet.

One thing that can make a difference is choosing to coach them in how to specifically express their needs.

A crying baby is actually doing just that as best he can. Because he’s pre-verbal, his mom or dad must take time to discover the cause of his angst. But he will stop crying when we’ve figured it out. And we can begin the process of teaching him to express his needs by talking to him as we aim to sooth him: “Jimmy, are you wet? Let’s see about that. Oh, honey, no, it’s not that, is it? Do you think you’re hungry? I know you just ate but maybe you’re starting a growth spurt. What do you think?” Babies learn to speak by being spoken to, and they will learn to express their specific needs by hearing us acknowledge them as we understand them.

As babies grow into toddlerhood and beyond, we need to continue and expand upon the coaching process. Instead of scolding a three-year old for having a tantrum, we must discover ways to keep her safe in the midst of it – that may mean letting her cry it out on the living room floor or it might mean holding her tight as she sobs – and then, when the storm has passed, comfort her while talking her through the situation – i.e., by asking specific questions and helping her to find the words she needs. 

If we commit to this process from early-on – such that our children know we are a safe refuge as they navigate their life experiences and feelings – we probably won’t ever get to the eye rolls and door slams. But we can ameliorate that behavior as well, if we are willing to take the time our teens need. An angry teen may need some time alone, but we mustn’t let her stay there. In many ways, teens are simply toddlers in bigger bodies, and we must comfort them, listen to them, and actively coach them in using specific language to express themselves just as we did when they were younger.

Kids don’t come to us all put together. When they “freak out,” it’s because they’re hurt and confused. And – as the people on earth who should love them best – they need our intentional, invested help. When we incrementally coach them, they will grow into the healthy, motivated adults we want them to be.

CK

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Photo Credit: 365psd

Your Kids Are Worth It

Saying no is easy.

That one short syllable rolls readily off the tongue in response to so much of what our kids say and do. No, you can’t have cake for breakfast. No, you can’t go outside without a coat. No, you can’t go to your friend’s house today. No, you can’t have a Facebook account. No, no, no.

Obviously, it’s our responsibility to provide healthy boundaries for our kids. And, of course, children and teens – by virtue of their inexperience and immaturity – often want to do or say things that are unwise and sometimes even dangerous. It’s our job to stop them from hurting themselves or others and to correct and guide them as they move toward maturity. However, saying nothing but no doesn’t help much.

For one thing, if it’s all we say, the word loses its punch. When we only say no – without an explanation or a positive alternative – kids tune us out. We become to them like the boy who cried wolf, and they’ll ignore a no when it really and truly matters. If, on the other hand, we reserve our use of the word as a stand-alone for serious situations – i.e., when a toddler runs toward the street, when a teen driver initiates a left turn into oncoming traffic – our kids will respond because they won’t have become impervious to it.

Additionally, being a “Dr. No” is an authoritarian stance that damages our relationships with our kids. It is, of course, biblically right for children to respect and obey their parents (Ephesians 6.1). But the same passage (Ephesians 6.4) exhorts us against provoking our kids to anger, a command that runs counter to authoritarian parenting. In contrast, when we take the time to explain the reasons we must say no to a child’s desire – and, better yet, offer positive alternatives – we maintain our parental authority in a healthy way while concurrently strengthening and deepening our relationships for the long-haul.

“No, you can’t have a Facebook account. Remember when I showed you the Facebook policy? It says users must be at least 13 and you’re 11. Plus, remember that Dad and I have our list of expectations for getting social media accounts? I’ll definitely work with you on that and we’ll see where you’re at when you’re 13. But not yet.” 

“No, you can’t go to your friend’s house today. We’re going to Grandma’s tomorrow and need to get an early start. But let’s see if Sammy can come over here next Friday.” 

“No, you can’t go outside without a coat. I know it doesn’t look cold, but see the window thermometer? Twenty-eight degrees is even colder than the temperature in our freezer!” 

“Cake for breakfast? Okay, buddy, you know that’s not an everyday thing. But it is left over from your birthday yesterday…so why not – just this once! You just have to promise to remind me to brush my teeth really well after!”

Offering alternatives and explanations is definitely harder – it takes more time and effort – than a blanket no. But your kids – and your relationship with them – are worth it.

CK

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Photo Credit: skyseeker

How to Reap a Good Harvest

Helping our kids develop a sense of personal responsibility is difficult.

Many blame what they call an “entitlement mentality” common in modern culture, and it’s true that such an attitude is prevalent these days. However, the problem goes all the way back to Adam and Eve – when Eve blamed the serpent for her decision to eat the fruit and Adam blamed both Eve and God Himself (Genesis 3.12) for his choice. And it’s not limited to historical figures and children. If we were to honestly tune in to those of all ages around us – and, frankly, to our own thoughts, words, and actions – we would quickly see a victim stance running rampant. The fact is that our natural human tendency is toward deflection and blame-shifting.

However, just because this is our default doesn’t mean it’s okay. Scripture calls us to seek maturity (1 Corinthians 13.11), which includes being able to accept the truth that decisions have consequences, whether positive or negative.

Of course, we must start with ourselves, because important character qualities are more often caught than taught. If our kids hear us always blaming the other guy for problems we face and/or chalking up victories to “fate,” we’ll communicate an entitlement/victim worldview which they’ll inevitably adopt as their own. But if they see us taking appropriate responsibility – acknowledging that I was cut off by another driver because I didn’t actually signal properly or, conversely, explaining how I know I did well with a presentation because I took time to prepare – our kids will begin to grasp the nature of natural consequences.

And when we have credibility with them in this regard, they’ll be more able to accept our “therefore statements” about their choices.

Delivery also matters. When my child messes up – whether by accident or as a result of actual disobedience – it’s my responsibility as the adult in the room to address the issue calmly. If I yell and rant, I not only damage my child emotionally but also wreck my credibility with her. Conversely, when I sit with her and rationally address a problem using “therefore statements,” she’ll more likely see the connection between her decisions and the consequences they bring. And when she’s done something well, it’s much more productive for me to show her with “therefore statements” how her good choices led to a positive outcome than to simply say, “That’s awesome!” If I want my child to know how to replicate a good outcome, she must understand the decision pathway that got her there.

Intentional consistency with all of this is hard. But as we decide to take personal responsibility for parenting in a healthy way, we will see good fruit over time. To paraphrase Galatians 6.9 in a way we surely hope the Lord will speak to us one day: “I saw that you did not grow weary in doing good. Therefore, you reaped a good harvest in due time.”

CK

Evidence-Grounded Grace

Recently, one of my daughters had a freak accident with her phone. As she was holding it in her hand while crouching to sit on the edge of her bed, it slipped from her grasp and landed right in a cup of water she’d put next to the bed earlier in the day. She yanked it out instantly and saw that it still worked so she felt she’d dodged a bullet. I did too. But later that day, the phone malfunctioned and only then did we hear about the “rice trick” we now know to be a common fix for phones that get wet.

As she realized the phone might be dead, my daughter was beside herself. She didn’t care about not having the phone; instead, she began to sob and said, “You and Dad bought that for Christmas. It was expensive and I ruined it.” She didn’t say it outright but I knew she was also thinking, “I’m a horrible, irresponsible person!”

If she’d set the phone next to a sink full of water, we might have been able to say, “You probably could have foreseen that putting your phone there wasn’t a good idea.” But what actually happened was clearly an accident; there’s really no way she could have guessed that her phone would slip from her hand just as she was sitting down and at just the “right” angle to land in the cup she’d set nearby hours earlier.

And her instant response was deep remorse. The evidence before me led to only one conclusion: “Honey, accidents happen. You weren’t doing anything irresponsible. In fact, I know because of how you’re reacting now that you mean to be responsible.” My husband felt the same way because, though she sometimes makes avoidable, youthful mistakes – just as all kids do – the overarching desire we see in her day in and day out is to be mature and “grown up.”

Though we all believed it was too late, we eventually put the phone in a bag of rice as a last-ditch effort. When we told our daughter that we’d decided to pay for a replacement, she protested; she thought she should pay for it herself. Of course, that desire was further evidence that grace was appropriate.

When I think about it, I’ve been in many situations with both of my kids over the years where I’ve been able to tell them that evidence – whether positive or negative – doesn’t lie. And, whether the issue at hand has been about one of them not wanting to accept a compliment or not wanting to own a mistake, when I’ve been able to calmly and directly point out what I’ve seen and heard, the tone and direction of the conversation always shifts.

Though still sad that her accident would cost us some money, my daughter stopped beating herself up after we extended evidence-grounded grace to her. Clearly communicating what we see and know about various situations in which our kids find themselves really does make a difference.

Oh, and by the way…the rice worked after all! By the next day, her phone was working good as new. More importantly, of course, her self-talk and our relationship were both working too.

CK

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Photo Credit: Second Wave Recycling

Legitimate Pride

Human nature is a funny thing.

I haven’t looked into the research studies I’m sure exist, but we can all agree anecdotally, based on what we’ve seen all around us and inside ourselves as well, that it’s generally far easier to see the negative about ourselves than the positive. Maybe we all carry a sort of “historical memory” – something within, reminding us we’re descended from Adam and Eve and are, thus, prone to mess things up. Or maybe it’s the result of the sorting and stacking sadly inherent in our culture, where a person learns to rate himself horizontally – comparing himself to others – instead of thinking vertically and tracking his own unique, individual growth over time. I think, too, that as Christ-followers we aim (appropriately) to guard against sinful pride. But we can go too far and end up believing – and teaching our kids – that any pride is bad.

Of course, we all know parents who act as if their kids can do no wrong, a practice fraught with its own serious perils. But, generally speaking, the fact remains that most of us probably need to be more intentional about letting our kids know we believe in them and are proud of them.

One way to work on that is to decide to stop seeing our kids as the culture does. Specifically, we must choose to avoid comparing one child to another – whether at home or in school or community groups – and, instead, embrace each one’s unique, God-ordained personality, strengths and weaknesses, interests and talents. When we compare children against each other, the focus is on “better” or “worse,” and it often becomes impossible for a child – or her parent – to see her for who she really is. But when we choose a different focus – evaluating how a child is doing today in math or truth-telling or archery skills in relation to how she was doing last week, month, or year – growth and improvement becomes far clearer. And then we can more easily encourage the child.

Another way to be intentional is to be specific. Kids have a hard time embracing generalized statements – “I believe in you!” or “I’m proud of you!” In fact, when I’ve said that to my kids on the fly, they dismiss it with, “You have to say that; you’re our mom.” But when we choose specificity – “That was a tough situation. I’m really proud of you for speaking up firmly but kindly just now,” or “I’ve heard you at every lesson and as you practice every day, so I believe you can nail the solo at tomorrow’s recital.” – we let our kids know we’re paying close attention to their efforts, which enables them to more readily internalize what we say.

Because we do seem so prone to accept the negative about ourselves, criticism sticks much more readily than praise; when I scold or even appropriately critique one of my kids, I can see in her eyes that it cuts her to the quick. Conversely, it seems I must offer a dozen legitimate, specific praises before a child “owns” a compliment. We obviously need to correct our kids as necessary, but they desperately need us as their parents to point them to their strengths via specific, intentional praise. Building that sort of pride is healthy and good, ultimately leading a child to proclaim, “Look at the blessings God has built into me! I’m going to do my best to use them for Him.” They need our legitimate affirmation to get there.

CK

What Are Your Ambitions, Dear?

Because of my teen daughters’ social circles, I know more kids every year – my girls’ friends, others in our local homeschool association, relatives, kids at church – who are graduating high school. And, just as when I was a classroom teacher at the high school level, I enjoy talking with these young people about their hopes and dreams.

I’ve learned not to ask a very common but extremely presumptuous question – “Where are you going to college?” – because I’ve been witnessing how many of today’s youth, after having given very careful consideration to all the options set before them, have wisely decided upon totally viable, alternative paths. So, I used to default to another, broader and more inclusive question: “What are you doing after graduation?”

But I recently heard an even better query – a simple but profound semantic twist that shows how much words matter in setting a tone. In the exchange I observed, a wise older woman asked a teen girl, "So, what are your ambitions, dear?"

This wording was incredible! First, it was optimistic, communicating the woman’s belief that the teen did, indeed, have life goals. Second, it was open-ended, creating an opportunity for the teen to expound upon her real hopes and dreams instead of feeling boxed in by preconceived expectations. Third, it opened the door to real relationship – an authentic conversation where the teen could feel safe being transparent, knowing the adult was genuinely interested and not just making “small talk.”

I don’t put teenagers on a pedestal; I know they have very real struggles, individually and as a social cohort. But I discovered long ago – even before I had my own children – that kids almost always respond well to positive feedback. In other words, if they sense that we believe in them, they’ll usually attempt to rise to the occasion. And when they try, they almost always make it.

They also need to know that we see and accept each one’s individuality. That we don’t view them as cookie-cutter products on an assembly line, all required to do the same things in the same way. That we celebrate the diversity of paths to happy, functional adulthood this generation is discovering.

Some of the teens I know aren’t quite sure of their post-high school ambitions. But those who have ideas are gloriously all over the map – as wannabe missionaries, graphic artists, nurses, interior designers, professional nannies, homeschool moms, music producers, small business owners, and computer programmers, just to name a few. And they’ve thought through the ways – some conventional and some very “out of the box” – in which they can reach their goals. I believe we need to encourage them to pursue those ambitions, providing enough guidance and support on the one hand while letting them freely explore their options on the other.

What are the ambitions of the kids in your life?

CK

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Photo Credit: theilr

Be Intentional

Though both my daughters took dance lessons for a number of years and were once pursued by a local swim team, neither has an interest in competitive sports. They do, however, choose to participate in “Solo & Ensemble,” a competition-of-sorts for teen musicians that draws 100,000 kids from across our state every year.

Solo & Ensemble is a different type of competition, in that each participant is actually “competing” against himself more than anyone else. In other words, each musician aims to perform to the best of his ability at the festival, and the adjudicator compares his performance against a rubric designed specifically for that event. Performers have access to the rubrics as they prepare, so they know from the beginning what they’re shooting for if the goal is to receive the highest score, referred to as “a first.” Every participant can earn “a first” – but only if the clear, measurable parameters defined by the rubric are met. Judges fill out a rubric form during a performance and add specific notes as needed; most also take time to verbally “debrief” with the student.

As a parent who participated in Solo & Ensemble when I was a teen, I was pleasantly surprised to see this level of precision because the process was much more subjective when I competed. The rubric system is still open to some human error – my daughter was downgraded on one song for singing what her judge deemed to be “incorrect rhythms” even though her vocal coach knew from extensive research ahead of time that what my daughter had sung was actually correct – but it’s a vast improvement over what previously existed.

When our kids participate in competitive events of any sort, this type of objective specificity is incredibly helpful in terms of teaching them to lose – and win – well. When children and teens watch Olympic events, football games, and shows like The Voice and America’s Got Talent, they only see the end result. And in our instant-gratification culture, they tend to want that same sort of success and fame for themselves without grasping reality – i.e., that it took years of sweat, toil, and tears for the “stars” to get where they are. It’s our responsibility to bridge that gap.

And we can do that by finding ways to provide specific, measurable feedback to them as they learn various skills and seek to improve. If a child doesn’t place at a skating event and can see it’s because she didn’t execute particular elements of her Triple Lutz, she can more readily accept the loss without giving up and know that she has a chance next time if she practices and ultimately masters specific moves. Likewise, if a team wins a basketball championship, they’ll be “good winners” – happy and humble, not arrogant – if they realize the victory came not by “magic” or “luck,” but, rather, because they chose to drill rudimentary skills as their coach directed.

Competition isn’t a bad thing; used correctly, it can motivate and inspire our kids toward excellence. But in order to compete well, they must know precisely what “success” looks like and how to get there. So be intentional about providing them with the specific, measurable feedback they need.

CK

The (Very Simple) Five-Finger Rule

I very regularly address questions from home-educating moms wondering about tools for determining the "reading level" of books they're considering for their children. Now in truth, my thoughts about "reading level" are similar to my views about the overall notion of "grade level" - i.e., "reading level" labels on books are largely arbitrary and irrelevant, and we should devote our energy to finding great (non-twaddle) books for our kids rather than worrying about their "level" as determined by some educrat who has never met our children. However, since our overall goal is (should be) to grow bibliophiles who seek to be lifelong learners, we want to appropriately challenge our kids without overwhelming them; thus, finding a method for determining the appropriateness of a particular book at a specific period of time in a child's life does have value...not so we can document what "level" a child is reading, but simply to properly respect and value each child's individual learning process.

We do not, however, need complicated algorithms, expensive materials, or even the latest app for that endeavor. In fact, we each carry with us every day a most effective tool - the five fingers on one hand - which can be used at any moment to employ the Five-Finger Rule for Text Readability. When a child chooses a book, just follow this procedure:

1. Direct the child to read (aloud) the first full page of the book's text; 
2. As he reads, subtly (so as not to intimidate him) keep note with one finger each time he cannot decode a word at all or struggles quite a bit to get it.

You'll know the suitability of the overall book based on how many fingers you use by the time the child reaches the bottom of the page:

• 0-1 Finger: The child's reading ability is above the level of the book. That doesn't mean he shouldn't read it - there is intellectual and emotional value in reading even "easy" books - but it won't stretch his abilities;
• 2-3 Fingers: The book is at the child's "instructional level." In other words, this book will be an appropriate challenge without being overwhelming; 
• 4-5 Fingers: The child is not ready to read this book independently, as it is above his current reading ability. You might save it for a later time, or if the child is really interested, simply use it as a parent-led read-aloud or (perhaps) try tackling it in "buddy reading" format with the parent.

And that's all there is to it - a "diagnostic test" accomplished in a matter of minutes in a very low-key manner using something you always have with you!

BMN

Tell It Exactly Like It Is

My 11-year old daughter is a budding artist. She especially likes to draw people and can do so with remarkable accuracy. In fact, on more than one occasion, I have thought she’d traced a detailed, realistic rendering when she’d actually drawn it freehand herself.

If I were to give her general compliments when she shows me her sketchpad - “Great work, honey.” – she would feel good for a moment, but it wouldn’t make a long-term impact. So, instead, I’ve learned to be specific with my praise: “Rachel, you got the shading in those pupils just right,” or “Wow! The shape of those bicep muscles makes them look real.” The specific compliments help her know what to draw in the same way again, and the resulting directed practice helps her develop solid drawing habits so she gets even better.

Similarly, and just as we need to provide specific feedback to a child when correcting poor behavior, we need to offer specific praise when complimenting desirable actions. In other words, it’s really not enough to say, “Good job!” when we see a child behaving appropriately. Instead, we need to make sure she knows precisely what she did well:

“Offering the last granola bar to your sister was very generous.” 

“I saw how you held back from shouting at your brother when you were mad; that was a great show of self-control.”

“Thanks so much for clearing the table without being asked. That’s going to really help us get out the door on time for swim practice.” 

You see, if a child knows we generally approve of an attitude or behavior, he feels warm fuzzies for a moment. But, if we tell him exactly what we like, we empower him to repeat the same behavior in the future until it becomes a positive habit in his life. 

If you’re used to giving generalized praise, it’ll take a bit of practice on your part to get used to being specific. But you can do it. The next time you find yourself saying, “Good job!”, purpose to keep going and tell your child exactly what she did well. Before you know it, you’ll have mastered the specific compliment habit, thus giving your child powerful tools to use in her quest to develop patterns of good behavior.

CK