After I posted my last article, “Friendly Persuasion,” I received a comment from my son Ben. Not only is it well written and well reasoned, but he is down there in the trenches now… raising with his wife 6 fabulous children. His comment follows my posting. It’s worth reading.
Friendly Persuasion
June 11, 2006 by
One of the hardest things about being a mother was, for me, the fact that my children would argue with each other. These were often not calm disagreements, rather interchanges that escalated in tone and volume until finally I would have to intervene to save my own sanity. Sometimes I would send the children to their rooms. Sometimes I would send them outside. Sometimes we would discuss what was happening and try to problem solve by clarifying who did what and how some resolution could come about. What I didn’t do was give them any clues as to how to resolve disputes in a more productive way,
What I should have done is to sit individually with them and ask them to tell me how they saw the situation and then how they thought their sibling saw it. If they were unable to supply the sibling’s point of view, I should have tried to guess what it was and then ask the child to rephrase it to ensure that the child had heard and understood. Next, I should have asked the child to try and think of what he or she could have done differently in light of what their sibling was thinking and feeling. Could he or she have found some common ground, a compromise, a trade-off?
I should have taught my children that the least likely way to get what you want is by name-calling, yelling, screaming, hitting, kicking, and threats. I should have taught them that a smile, a nod, a real concern for the other and their point of view all go a long way toward resolving a conflict. I should have taught them to find out what the other one really wanted and to see if there was a way that both of them could get what they wanted. I should have taught them that respecting the other person is a prerequisite for coming to a satisfactory resolution. I should have done that not only for my sanity’s sake, but to help facilitate their effectiveness as adults.
I like to think that they learned those skills in part by watching what their parents did. Sometimes, if we are lucky, the message gets through even if we are not consciously transmitting it. However, with all of the anger and pain and violence in the world, actively teaching children the art of conflict resolution might just be a priority.
I Remember Mama
June 4, 2006 by
When we say yizkor and remember our deceased relatives, I always find it important to think of my parents and my relationship with them. Some times I focus on the good times and sometimes I think about what I wish might have been. Sometimes I feel bad about the missed opportunities that were, and, more frequently, of what they are missing now.
However this time I had a very different experience. Although my mother and I were not as close as we could have been and although she often did not understand the decisions I made, it suddenly struck me that I was, to a great extent, living a life based on things that she taught me, things that she found important.
For example, my mother had a sense of what was appropriate—in behavior, in dress, in speech. I realized that to a very great extent, I have adopted those standards as my own. My mother taught me to be polite and to not be self-promoting and those too are things I try to remember. She valued education and family. Certainly I share that with her.
So it came to me that despite all of the negatives in our interactions, she was an effective teacher. Not only did I learn what she taught me, but I value it and there is a small feeling of satisfaction in acting as she might want me to act.
Someone once wrote that mothers have no idea of the strength of the impact they have on their children. I suppose that is so. But I am willing to bet that in many cases neither the mother nor the children are aware of how strong the messages mothers give are and how much children take them to heart.
note: title refers to 1950s TV show http://www.fiftiesweb.com/tv/i-remember-mama.htm
We remember them all
May 2, 2006 by
They are so beautiful. I see them on the television today. One after another. Little boys and girls, teens, men, and women. They lived only a few short years. They died before they grew up, before they had a chance to marry, before their children were old enough to leave home. They were like the branches on a blossoming tree, cut off in full bloom, never allowed to bear fruit.
They leave mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, sons and daughters, whose lives are lived in the shadow of pain, never really believing that their loved ones will not return to them, hoping that this is some cosmic mistake that will be corrected.
They died defending their people, their land from those who desire our destruction. Many died only because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time when some homicidal maniac decided that blowing up the innocent was a way into heaven.
Today we remember them all. In pictures and films we see their smiles, their laughter, and the warmth and affection they shared with those they loved. We embrace their loved ones and we pray that our enemies will begin to place more value on their own lives than on hating and destroying others.
For more about today, see trilcat.blogspot.com
The Wedding
March 29, 2006 by
It was about 1:30 Monday afternoon. We had already dropped off the wedding gown to the place where Leah would dress. In the car were the boutonniers for the men, the flower crowns for the little girls, the bride’s bouquet, and the rose petals. We drove through the Judean Hills to the place where my youngest daughter would be transformed into a bride. When I returned to get her, she was radiant. Her face really was glowing. Her happiness was complete. The day had arrived. Just an hour or so earlier, her sister had called to tell her that despite having given birth to a little girl on Saturday, she would be able to attend the ceremony, on leave from the hospital.
My little bride and I left for the wedding hall, and everything that happened from that moment on was far beyond what we could have imagined. The room looked beautiful. In place of the tiny bud vases that they had agreed to supply with three roses, there were lovely flower arrangements on every table. The wedding planner had placed the candlesticks we brought on each table, had strewn rose petals, had taken care of every detail. The photographer took pictures of all of my beautiful grandchildren in their party clothes and fresh-scrubbed faces. The groom was waiting to begin with the tnaim and his mother and I broke the plate. All was ready.
I went to my daughter’s side. The men were bringing her groom to her. I will never forget the look on his face, the tears in my eyes, the tears running down the face of my older daughter, the happiness that filled the room. The groom left for the chuppah with his mother and we walked our daughter out into the Jerusalem night, stars gleaming, where, surrounded by love, they became husband and wife.
The joy burst into sparkle and fire as the groom’s friends, the jugglers, filled the hall with flying objects and mirth. The Dixieland Jazz band played its banjo and washboard as the jugglers performed. We danced with fans and leis and streamers.
Later, the groom sang to his Eishet Chayil, surprising us with his wonderful singing voice. Then the neices and nephews sang to their aunt and welcomed their new uncle to the family. As the wedding drew to a close, my husband and I and the groom’s mother were crowned with flowers for having married off our last child. Our grandchildren swept the floor with little brooms as was the custom for this song and our children danced around us. “It’s our baby daughter’s wedding.”
After the wedding, I took the young couple to the Kotel (Western Wall) where they went to pray. She was hugged by some of the few young women there who asked for her blessing, as a bride’s blessings are thought to be powerful.
I went home more than content. I was elated. They are full of happiness and carry a deep respect for each other. May G-d grant them a long healthy happy life together and bless them with children whose eyes will shine with the light of Torah.
Sunday morning musings
March 19, 2006 by
The wedding is just a little over a week away and the activity level is rising. Our first guest from out of the country has arrived. The weather is cooperating with sunshine and all of the trees are budding, making our garden particularly lovely.
It’s early Sunday morning. Everything is quiet.
We are lucky. Everyone is helpful and cooperative. No one is being picky or petty. Just as my other children-by-marriage have found their ways into my heart, this new one has already made inroads.
When my children were young, all I wanted was for them to be healthy and to grow up to be good people. I never pictured their marrying and having children of their own. I never realized that I would be blessed with children who would give me such joy or marry people who I love as my own or produce the 20++ most adorable children in the world (OK, I’m prejudiced—I’ll admit it.)
I remember during my pregnancies being excited that with the birth, I would be meeting someone new, someone I would love and nurture and care about my whole life. I remember thinking of each child as a surprise package, coming with no instruction manual, functional description, or predicted behavior. The serious curiosity of one, the devilish grin of another, the smile that came upon awakening, the quiet contentment at play, and bubbly laughter were clues as to who they would become, but they were impossible for me to interpret. Raising each of them was a different task. Each child required something different from me. Always I hoped that I was nurturing each child in the best way. The days, weeks, years, seemed to require a constant reevaluation as more of their personalities evolved and as each became his/her own person.
I don’t really know if I was a good mother. I do know that I love the way my children have grown up. I know that no mother could be happier. And now that the last one is getting married, there is nothing but joy and gratitude to the Source of all blessings.
Brothers
February 24, 2006 by
I have three sons and two daughters. Raising these children involved mostly hard work, some frustration, and a lot of happiness. The most frustrating thing about raising my children was their negative interactions with each other.
When they played together, it was wonderful. They would devise all sorts of games and construct all sorts of structures that were creative and entertaining. They would build “marble machines†that were towers where one could put in a marble and it would roll through the structure turning in different directions and finally appear in a totally unexpected place, making the maximum amount of noise on the way down. The children would put on shows and do singing acts. They would race the pet mice in cars built of legos. They would prepare food treats and once made a whole party complete with a piñata they had worked on without any adult help.
But all was not idyllic. As in every family, there were children with different temperaments and personalities and sometimes they clashed. There were two who clashed more than other combinations. I remember wondering if they would ever be able to be friends. I used to say to them, “How will there ever be peace in the world if you can’t even get along with your brother?†One told me he was going to live in Israel when he grew up. The other responded that he was going to live in Alaska. I asked him, “Why Alaska?†He said, “Because it’s the farthest I can be from him where they still speak English.â€
But as they grew, the differences seemed to mean less to them and they became friends. When one, and then the other got married, I had tears in my eyes, watching each of them truly happy for the other.
And this shabbat, both will be in the States in advance of a business conference they will be attending. They have left their wives and combined dozen children here in Israel and they will be spending shabbat at the home of one’s in-laws. And just the thought of it brings tears to my eyes once again. How very sweet and pleasant it is to see brothers dwelling together!
Limits
February 12, 2006 by
Last night I was talking to my son about childrearing. To my amazement, I think my children all are doing a wonderful job of raising their children, each in their own way, so it was not a discussion where I was giving advice, merely a talk about what seems to work best. He said that he was convinced that the most important reason for a parent to set limits is that limits make children feel secure. Children actually want limits.
I have to agree (after all, he learned that from me!) Children feel secure if they know what they may and may not do. They feel happy and in control of their lives if their parents have told them what actions will have what types of consequences and then enforce them. Of course consequences can also be good. If a child knows that helping to clear the table will earn him a special story or helping to fold the laundry is good for some cookies and milk, then he is able to choose a behavior that will yield him a reward. The key to this type of security is consistency. If parents consistently provide rewards that have been promised for certain actions and punishments that have been defined for others, then children begin to understand that what they do matters. The child learns: “It is not just whether Mom and Dad are happy with me, but I am able to arrange for good things for myself if I put in the effort.†For after all, isn’t that the way the world works? When we do something good that requires a lot of effort, there is usually a reward at the end. Sometimes it is monetary, sometimes it is something tangible, and sometimes it is the satisfaction of a job well done.
For children, knowing what’s permitted and what’s not is a key to their making sense of the world and to understanding that it is not just a random place where things happen for no discernable reason. Having limits that are clear and consistent provides them with opportunities for self-efficacy and with feelings of security.
Although I was fairly consistent as a mother, I remember having that important lesson taught to me once again as one day I was driving with my then 11 year old and he said to me, “the same thing happens to Scott as happens to me.†I asked him what that was and he told me, “Scott does bad things and his parents still give him good things.†He said it in such a way that it was clear to me that he didn’t understand why that would happen. For him, receiving ood things after he had misbehaved was not a gift of love, but something that confused him. I began to appreciate even more that I had before that limits are of vital importance, not just for teaching children how to act, but for enabling them to make sense of the world.
Mom and Dad and the Problem Child
January 8, 2006 by
In some of the families I see, the child is the problem—or so the parents state. When I begin to assess the family, sometimes a much more complex situation is found to exist. In these families there are typically the following elements: a child who has a tremendous amount of power in the family, one parent who is furious with the child, and one parent who is trying to appease the child.
This isn’t the way the trouble began. If one were to reconstruct what went on in the family, it might sound something like this: Mother and father chose to have child who was born the perfect baby. As the years passed, child became more and more independent and increasingly wanted things his/her own way. However, when child didn’t get what he/she wanted, he/she would act in maladaptive ways (yelling, screaming, throwing tantrums, acting defiantly, throwing objects, destroying things in the house, refusing to eat, refusing to sleep, or refusing to get dressed in the morning, etc.) Mother or father would become enraged by the child’s behavior and would react in a non-productive manner (by hitting, yelling, calling the child names, shaming the child publicly, or taking away from the child items, experiences, or privileges in a manner that was very disproportional to the misbehavior.) The other parent would immediately intervene begging or pleading with the parent to please stop, reconsider, and not be so harsh. Once the pattern repeated itself a couple of times, the child began to see this:
I misbehave. One parent (P1) starts to punish. Other parent (P2) rushes in to protect me. Aha. I have an ally. P2 now understands that 1) P1 is unreasonable and 2) I should get whatever it is I want.
As this repeats, P2 begins to forge a coalition with child. “Mommy/Daddy didn’t really mean it. You know how she/he gets.†Child goes to P2 for comfort, complains to P2 about P1 and finds a compassionate ear. In a short time, P1, even attempting the best disciplinary methods, is rendered totally irrelevant. P2 has removed all power from P1 (which in most cases just increases P1’s less than optimal behavior). Meanwhile, child has moved into a collegial relationship with P2 which allows child and P2 to talk about how crazy P1 gets and how we all need to figure out a way to live with him/her and his/her craziness.
By then, P1 has no real options for regaining any authority with the child. P2 doesn’t want to give up the special relationship he/she has with the child, and besides, he/she really believes that P1 is harming the child.
As you might imagine, the relationship between father and mother has deteriorated and neither of them is feeling very happy. All they can really agree on is that there is a problem.
When a family gets into such a situation, often the only thing that will help is the intervention of a professional family therapist. However, if this scenario sounds familiar and you are P2, know that the best thing you can do is to discuss child rearing principles with your spouse at a time and place far away from your children. Establishing a true team approach where both of you are working together and supporting each other in disciplining the child will help the child to settle back into his/her role of child in the family. The child will become disempowered as the tyrant in the family. Parents will regain control and the interpersonal relationship between the parents will improve. Their working together and refusal to be divided will display to the child a new respect of each parent for the other and will enable the child to feel safe in his/her family.
Messages in a tube
December 3, 2005 by
On Thursday I began to think about writing an entry on photographs. I had in mind a particular photograph of my older daughter. The piece was to be about how a photo of a little girl is only that. It carries with it no emotion, no context, no meanings. But when I think about the picture, I remember that it was taken in Wiesbaden, Germany, on May 9, the day before her ninth birthday. She was dressed in a pretty dress and had a too big ribbon in her hair. Her look was melancholy.
“Rachel,†my mother said, “Why are you looking sad; we are celebrating your birthday.â€
Rachel responded, “I’m sad because I have the chickenpox and my birthday isn’t until tomorrow.â€
“But you know why we are celebrating your birthday today,†my mother said.
“Yes,†Rachel replied, “because tomorrow you are going back to America.â€
As I remembered the interchange, I too became sad. I felt my daughter’s impending loss of her grandparents for an indeterminate time. I felt my own loss of them from my life.
And that was to be the article, about the difference in perceptions and feelings that people have about their own photographs until…
Yesterday when I was dressing, I took my mother’s locket and put it around my neck and fastened it and had another memory. She was visiting us and wearing the locket. My youngest son, Akiva, asked to see the pictures inside. She opened it up and there were pictures of Ben and Rachel, my two oldest children, her oldest grandchildren. Akiva asked where his picture was. My mother said, “You are right, Kiwi (her nickname for him); I am going to get another locket and put Sammy’s picture and your picture in it.†I am sure she meant to do that, but she never did.
And then this morning, I began to understand what was happening. While riding the stationary bike at the gym on Thursday, I saw a show on the Hallmark station called “The Locket.†It was about a young man whose mother dies and who later forms a connection with an old lady who helps him with his priorities in life. She has a locket with a picture of herself and the man whom she had loved which spurs a story of her lost love. It is through her pictures and films of her life that the pathos of lost love comes through.
I realized that I had been affected on several levels by the film—by the loss of the man’s mother, by the pictures of life gone by, by the locket.
And then I began to think about the fact that at my age I have fairly well-developed defenses. Defenses strengthen as the years go by and very little creeps into the subconscious on it own, yet here I was being affected by a movie I had seen just part of on television while I was doing something else.
And then I began to think of all of the people who think that limiting a child’s viewing of television or movies is unnecessary. How much could it affect them? Well, I am more convinced than ever that it can affect them. The children themselves may not even be aware of the messages that are absorbed, but they are there.
A long time ago I began to think that there are images and concepts that pollute the soul. I still believe that is true. I think that most parents want to protect their children from the truly evil and deranged, from blood and gore, from things that are not ennobling. What I think now is that a bit too much caution is a lot better than not enough. Guard their souls and yours. All of us are vulnerable.