Bribe Your Children

Well, I just read this article making parents feel terrible for bribing their children, and it pissed me off.

The key idea:

"Mr. Pink said the problem with bribing is not the rewards; it’s the contingency, which is a form of control. “Human beings have only two reactions to control,” he said. “They comply or they defy. I don’t think most parents want compliant children, and I don’t think they want defiant children. They want children who are active, engaged and motivated by deeper things.”"

This is hilarious because what do people say to parents whose children are being unruly?  They say "control your child."  Our job as parents is, yes, to guide and teach and develop growing minds and awareness of good and bad and understanding of the social contract, but it's also, in a very real sense, to keep our children in line.  And my daughter knows that.  She certainly does not always respond to bribes with either compliance or defiance.  She often responds with negotiation, questions, excitement or a new perspective on the conflict.

Maybe I'm not understanding the true definition of bribes, but I think most people would agree that "I will give you bunny crackers if you get in the stroller" is a bribe.  And I don't feel at all that I'm damaging her by engaging in this interaction.  The usual parenting advice industry suggestion is that instead of offering a bribe, I should explain to my 3-year old in very reasonable terms why she should get in the stroller and sit still instead of running around pretending to be a superhero.  Or I should try to change her superhero game into a sitting in the stroller game.  Any parent of a 3 year old is laughing at both of those ideas right now.

The fact is that I need her to get in the stroller because we are in a hurry.  She doesn't understand the concept of hurry and she doesn't care.  I can explain it all I want, but she doesn't want to sit down when it's much more fun to run around, and any pathetic attempt at making up a stroller game is very unlikely to work.  So, because I'm a good mom, I think about a way to make sitting in a stroller a little more enjoyable for her.  I offer the bunny crackers.  And all of a sudden her decision is easier to make.  That's not controlling her, that's making it easier for her to voluntarily make the decision I need her to make.  It's certainly less controlling than grabbing her and strapping her against her will into the stroller, which is my last remaining option.

The fact is, we're always controlling our kids, particularly when they're small.  Whether through "explaining"(which often turns into guilting), making up games, bribing, threatening or physical force, we're directing their choices and their schedules.  We have to.  Nobody wants a world run by the unguided choices of 3-year olds.

And bribing is just a dirty word for rewarding.  Why do you go to work all week?  Because you get a bribe at the end of the week in the form of a paycheck.  In fact, my favorite type of bribe is the kind that my daughter has to save up for.  If she stays in her bedroom all night, she gets a star in the morning.  If she gets 7 stars, she gets a present.  Not only has this taught her to stay in her room all night, it has also taught her to save, to wait, to count and, shockingly, to do subtraction in her head ("You have 3 stars, how many more do you need to get a sticker book?" Her instant answer:"4.")

But the best part is that using bribes on a regular basis hasn't, contrary to the hysterical warnings of the parenting advice industry, caused us to become reliant on bribes.  On the contrary, after a few months of using bribes to incentivize behavior that she won't otherwise want to do, she gets used to the behavior.  And I can start "forgetting" the bribes and she doesn't even notice.

Bribing makes undesirable activities a little more desirable.  I'm not forcing her to do something she absolutely hates, or convincing her that she actually shouldn't hate it.  I'm making a deal with her.  It's respectful of her feelings, in the sense that I'm making it easier for her to make an unpleasant decision.  It's not control, it's negotiation.  World leaders do it all the time.

You've never seen parents as happy as they are in December, when we're all allowed to bribe to our hearts' content.  Advent calendars, elf on the shelf, treats galore.  It's parenting heaven because there's always a tool sitting there, ready to help you make a deal.  And then in January we're all guilted into removing these tools, being told by the parenting advice industry that we're causing permanent psychological damage because we're such lazy, lazy, terrible moms for using the tools that we've found to work the best.

You're not damaging your child.  You're not lazy.  Do what works and don't be guilted.  We're all just trying to make it through one day at a time with as much respect and kindness as we can muster.  If a package of bunny crackers makes the difference between sitting in the stroller and not sitting in the stroller, give the bunny crackers, make the kid a little happier, and get on with the day.  Bribing doesn't control kids, it makes them feel like they have a tiny bit of power in a world that doesn't give them any.  It makes your day a million times easier.  And it follows the first and only rule of parenting: do what works.

Be Nice to Yourself - For Feminism!

Letter from a Mom Friend:

"I was taking inventory of my day and I realized I usually score myself based on how few times I lost it on the kids. It's usually something like, "I blew my top and yelled twice, so not bad, but I should try and keep it together." Or by how enriching the day was, so something like, "I Ieft the Today show on too long, or was on personal calls--so I am sure I neglected them too much and I could have been doing rhyming cards with S or having more direct contact with E." And then there is the technology thing, "I spent way too much time on my phone, or online, that needs to stop." And then I thought....Wait! I am not scoring on the good stuff. I made my kids three nutritious meals, as well as ate well in front of them and talked to S about food choices and why we eat what we eat. I kept the TV off, except for her poop-reward obligatory show. We read umpteen books and practiced our German. I didn't drag them out for a thousand errands because I know they felt crummy, despite my growing cabin fever. I said how great they were, praised them for their good behavior and achievements and was the kind attentive mommy most of the day. AND I have postponed my life and career to be good to them and let them know how important they are. AND I only yelled once..... SO the good way outweighs the bad most days. But the guilt overshadows that. So now I promise to myself to score the good with bad, and tomorrow doesn't look so bleak."

Letter to a Mom Friend:

Let's take a quick inventory of the things you did in a single day.  You made healthy food, talked about healthy food, modeled healthy eating.  You praised your kids, respected their need to rest, read a lot of books, and PRACTICED GERMAN.  You gave them attention and affection.  

I think our culture of motherhood is clearly deranged when a parent can do all those things and still have that little thought in the back of her mind that maybe she shouldn't have spent those 15 minutes talking on the phone for her own personal sanity.

You have already given your kids everything they need.  They have love, they have play, they have attention and nutrition, they have a mommy who obviously loves them and spends time with them.  But you pile guilt on yourself whenever you give yourself even a tiny portion of what YOU need.  

Watching the Today Show or talking on the phone to a friend or checking email or reading stuff online is not bad parenting.  It's giving yourself a tiny (tiny!) glimpse into the world of adults.  You are an adult and you desperately need those little glimpses.  Actually, you need a lot more than glimpses, but those tiny little ones are enough to barely keep you going, and you shouldn't put them on the "negative" side of the ledger of today's accomplishments.  

This is something that I struggle with too, every day.  That insidious voice in the back of my head that says that if I'm taking time for myself, I'm not trying hard enough.  Or that if I NEED time for myself, I'm not a good enough mother.  If I need to take 15 minutes out of an entire day to talk to a friend, I must not love my children enough.

But that's bullshit and we all know it, deep down.  That voice in the back of your head isn't you.  It's the voice of some crazy person you read in a parenting discussion forum on the internet.  Or an older woman who has forgotten how hard it can be and tells you how she adored every second (every single one!) of motherhood.  Or the mom you know who only talks about how much she loves and enjoys her kids and never admits that some days it's too much.  Or a movie you saw where the mom gave her life for her child and was a hero.  Or a tv show where the evil terrible mother wanted only what was best for her and left her children to starve as a direct consequence.  Our examples of pristine motherhood are a little messed up.  

It's so clear that you love your kids, that you're an amazing mom, and that you almost can't do a better job.  No, scratch that.  The only way you can do a better job is to do what you did today, and give yourself credit for all the amazing things you do.

The next step is to give yourself credit for the things you did for yourself, too.  It's hard to remember that it's not a zero-sum game.  The things you do for yourself aren't automatically deducted from the welfare of your children.  So go ahead and check your email, look at your phone, talk to a friend.  Your kids also need some time alone to figure out who they are in the world without you.  Give them that time.  And give yourself a break.  Everybody will be happier for it. And as for the yelling, I'm always nicer to the kids when I'm nicer to myself.  What goes around comes around.

Expecting mothers to give up everything, including their own very minor bits of happiness, for the sake of their children is a perverse expectation.  It does nothing for the welfare of kids.  It actually does more harm than good.  And it teaches them that this is how women should behave.  Sacrificing themselves entirely and berating themselves for every tiny moment of freedom.  I'm not saying we should all abandon our children (I can't believe I even feel the need to make that clear), I just think it's important to remember that it's ok to be nice, generous and forgiving to ourselves.  It's actually good for our kids when we're nice to ourselves.  It teaches them self-respect, forgiveness, resilience, respect for women, and it gives them some space to be themselves.

And if it's good for kids and for moms when moms respect their own needs, it kinda makes you wonder who IS it good for when moms heap guilt on themselves?  What are we playing into by attacking ourselves every day?  Why is the guilt so pervasive?  Next time you're calculating the daily list of grievances, think about who it's really for.  

The Promised Land

I just threw away all of my "how to parent a difficult toddler" books.  I can see the promised land.

This morning,  five minutes before it was time to leave the house, Penny discovered an old activity book that she had never used.  It's been probably 6 months since she last saw it, and all of a sudden the activities in the book (paper dolls, sticker decorating, etc) seemed newly doable. And therefore absolutely necessary to do right now!  But it was time to get out the door.  So I told her that she could carry the book with her in the stroller, but she wouldn't be able to play with it right now.  She agreed, put on her coat, and got in the stroller, holding her book on her lap.

I want to point out a few things about that story that I would have found totally inconceivable a year ago.  First, she listened to reason.  Second, she postponed gratification.  Third, she PUT ON HER OWN COAT.  VOLUNTARILY.  Fourth, I only asked her to put her coat on one time.  Fifth, I only asked her to get in the stroller one time.  Sixth, there was no crying, screaming, rolling on the floor, time out, or injury.

A year ago, I did not believe that we would ever get to this point.  Maybe I'm just too wrapped up in the present, or I hadn't spend time with enough 2-year olds, or I'm just a drama queen, but throughout Penny's two's (and one's) I convinced myself that her arguing, tantruming, boundary-pushing behavior was somehow worse than "normal" terrible two's behavior.  And, even worse, I imagined that no interaction between us would ever be easy.  I imagined fighting terrible-two fights for eternity.  And that was an exhausting and terrible thought.

It's hard to imagine your 2-year old, particularly your first one, ever being a reasonable person.  You've never raised a child past 2 before, you don't know what's coming, and all you know of this person is that she is a raving lunatic most of the time.  I remember buying books about "spirited" or "difficult" children, and being angry and confused about why so many of them didn't even address the twos.  You know why they didn't?  Because "spirited" and "difficult" are synonyms for "2-year-old."  These books were all about the difficulty of having a 9-year-old who acts like a 2-year-old.  A 2-year-old who acts like a 2-year-old is just something you have to get through.

I remember seeing other people's older children, watching how they actually listed to their parents, and thinking, not "I can't wait for that," but "I don't think we'll ever get there."  It's embarrassing how dismally pessimistic I was, but I guess the two's (and one's) have a way of beating you down.  Or me, anyway. And really, when you've only known your child for less than 3 years, with more than half that time being spent in an epic power struggle, it's easy to lose perspective.

Now that Penny is closer to 4 than she is to 3, I am constantly amazed by how often a simple conversation can diffuse disagreements.  She can still be stubborn and contrary, but the amount of time that we spend in conflict has decreased from probably 70 percent in her two's to about 30 percent of the time now.  It's fantastic.  And it keeps getting better.

So be strong moms of two-year-olds!  The promised land exists!  I've seen it!  The hardest part of parenting a toddler (besides subduing a tantruming child multiple times a day) is remembering that there's an end in sight.  And reminding yourself that it's not your fault that your child fights you at every turn.  It's not bad parenting, it's not bad choices, it's a necessary developmental stage and it's just going to suck for a while.  It's so hard to remember that.  Especially when mean old ladies on the street give you dirty looks for every toddler outburst.

But whether or not you remember to keep perspective, one day your kid will respond to disappointing news with a shrug, you will be amazed, and you'll know you're almost out of the toddler woods.  I'm sure there are more new kinds of woods to come, but for now I'm just basking in this clearing.

Parenting While Sick is Terrible

We're finally emerging from a historic bout of family illness.  After seeing both girls through a stomach bug on the same night, Dave and I packed our bags the night before Christmas Eve to get on a plane the following morning.  That night, he and I got the bug and were both up all night vomiting.  After about 2 hours of sleep Penny woke us up on Christmas Eve morning, we cancelled our flights, and we both tried to hold down ginger ale while caring for 2 comparatively recovering kids, the oldest of whom was really bummed about missing Christmas at Nannie and Grandpa's house and worried about whether Santa would be able to find us.

We were worried about that too, because most of our presents had been shipped out there already.

But also, we felt like garbage.  Both D and I were in no shape to parent.  Neither of us could bear the sight of food, and the kids were hungry.  Neither of us could walk around for more than a few seconds at a time, and Mabel wanted to do her daily unending stroll around the apartment in search of power outlets.

At least with Penny, who is 3 and a half, we could turn on the tv and make it a sofa day (a big treat in her world).  But for Mabel, at 10 months old and just barely walking, there was no way to keep her voluntarily in one place.

So we put her in a playpen.  In front of the tv. All day.  Sometimes I threw crackers in there.  She was not happy.

And this is one of the hardest parts of parenting.  The moments when you need - really need - to take care of yourself, but your kids also need to be cared for.  In these cases, I always recommend getting help, but sometimes there's no help to get.  And that's when a deep sense of hopelessness can sneak into the whole thing.  When all you can think is "I can't do this" but you have to keep doing it, so it turns into "I hate this."

It's a lot like childbirth, actually.  Or some parts of pregnancy.  Or coping with a bad tantrum in a public place when you're having a terrible day.

The lowest parts of parenting are the times when "I can't do this" becomes "I hate this" because exhaustion turns into desperation.

And there's no happy ending I can offer here.  Just that these lowest points are temporary, they pass, and someday they're sort of funny.  But in the middle of it, it feels terrible.  And it feels like it'll never end.  And it's ok to hate it.  It's also ok to put the baby in a playpen for hours and throw crackers at her on rare occasions.

In the end, we had a few Christmas presents at home that we put under the tree, and we stuffed stockings with our airplane toys.  I had chicken broth for Christmas dinner, D had dry toast, and the kids had macaroni and cheese.  It wasn't great, but it was sort of Christmas.  And we'll definitely always remember it.  I expect it'll get funnier as the years go on, but I honestly hope I never forget that feeling of total desperation.  That's part of the reality of parenting, and it's not fair to only remember or talk about the good parts.  Having a family is a package deal, the good comes with the bad.  I find it helpful to remember that, so that the bad times don't feel so much like utter disaster.

Taking the Penance out of Mistakes

Well, I've been neglecting this blog.  And the only reason for it is that things got busy.  Good busy, then bad busy, then nasty busy.  This blog was not the first thing to go (see, first, social life, dates with D, cooking) but it is, in the end, expendable.

I actually felt a lot of guilt for letting this one thing slide.  I felt like I was letting people down (all two of you who read this).  And I had a plan to come back to the blog with a new declaration.  I was going to apologize for my neglect and promise to be diligent in the future.  To force myself to do this thing that I had just (just now!) found a step too far.  As if I should force myself into doing too much.

I didn't do it for a long time.  I wasn't sure what words to use, or whether it was even the right thing to do.  And most of all, I didn't want to.  I didn't want to force myself into overcommitting.  Not only that, I didn't want this space to feel like a penance.

And I realized that so many things in mothering seem to require penance.

Without penance, guilt, regret, shame, none of the small mistakes we make every day feel excusable.  We are only excused from our failures by our heartbreak over them, and by our promise to push ourselves way beyond our means in the future.

So I'm going to try not to do that anymore.  Instead of promising that I'll write a blog post every day, that I'll have more patience with my kids, that I won't yell again or feel bored while playing with animal toys, that I'll do more crafts with Penny or read more to Mabel, I'm going to promise to let things slide when they need to, forgive myself for the millions of tiny failures, let the past stay there, and move ahead without fear of messing up again.

I know I'll mess up again.   I'll lose track of this blog.  I'll get mad at Penny for something that's not her fault.  I'll leave Mabel in a dirty diaper for way too long.  It's so much worse when that future mistake also carries the promise of heartache, worry and shame.  But it's not so bad if the mistakes I know are coming can be learning lessons, inevitable outcomes of growing and changing and doing new things.  Something to laugh at, take note of, and fold into my pocket.  

Show me a mom who doesn't berate herself for small failures and I'll show you a mom who's doing it right.  After all, I can't think of a much better gift for a child than to be taught fearlessness in the face of failure.

So I'm going to keep writing here, but not when I can't.  And then, again, when I can.  

Casual Sexism

This isn't specifically a post about motherhood.  But if we want mothers to be trusted, respected and taken seriously, we need women to be trusted, respected and taken seriously.  And something that eats away at that respect every day is best referred to as casual sexism.  It's not overt, woman-hating, rape-apologizing, pay-discriminating, health care-denying sexism that most reasonable people recognize and dislike.  It's much more insidious, and it plants the seeds for all of the other stuff.  The problem with casual sexism is that it's used, usually unknowingly, by people who say they support women's equal rights.

Some examples:

TV shows that depict all (or most) female characters as irrational babies.
Any TV show with a "dumb blonde" character.
Jokes where the punchline is some variation on "women are confusing"
Jokes where the punchline is some variation on "women are crazy"
Jokes where the punchline is some variation on "women are inferior to [insert male-appreciated thing here: beer, cars, football]"
TV commercials that sell things by saying some variation of "only for men - too tough for women"

AND crucially:

The dismissive response you get when you point out the underlying sexism in any one of these things.

Casual sexism comes from a quiet underlying assumption that women are irrational, infantile, weak, untrustworthy and unreasonable.  If this assumption sits underneath all of our cultural references, it becomes easy and natural to make jokes about how incomprehensible "women" are and not even notice that you've insulted your friends, family and audience.  If this is underlying our jokes, what we're saying is that women are all the same.  This one thought alone is poisonous.

When women are automatically and unquestioningly assumed to be universally inferior and irrational, not only do they not deserve respect or trust, but it's also a lot easier to treat them with violence.  This is not a minor point.  Casual sexism seems unimportant, but it sets the stage for discrimination and violence.

So many times, I have questioned the underlying assumptions about women in jokes or TV shows or movies and been told that I'm finding problems where there are none.  That I'm overreacting.  Sometimes I tell myself that.

But I think a good smell test is to ask yourself: Does this joke/tv show/commercial rely on an assumption about women's weakness or inferiority?  If it does, and it's not questioned, it lays the basis for all the "real" overt sexism and misogyny that most people do tend to recognize and oppose.

If we all just agree that women are infantile, and let that be an assumption that we're all working from, sexual discrimination comes easily after that.   The premise of a joke is a commonly-shared understanding.  If that premise is, without any self-awareness or irony, assuming that women are lunatic harpies bent on the destruction of men, it's not "just a joke."  It lays the groundwork for all kinds of really horrible things down the line.

So please, the next time you hear a joke or watch a show that doesn't pass the smell test, call it out.  Call it out in front of your friends, family and most importantly your children, and let them know why it's wrong.  Until we start pointing out that we're working on bad assumptions, all the rest of the bad stuff that's happening to women right now will be a lot harder to stop.

Sweating the small stuff might be the best way to protect ourselves and our daughters from a culture that doesn't trust us to behave like adults.

I don't want to have to tell my daughter that there are people in the world, lots and lots of them, who believe that the little boys in her preschool class deserve the right to someday tell her what to do with her own body.  That those little boys should someday have the right to dominate her, discriminate against her and force her to be pregnant and give birth against her will.

I don't want to tell her those things.  And I won't have to.  Because these insidious little jokes that go by unchallenged and the stupid roles that women (STILL!) play on television and the shallow and infantile female exemplars that we teach our children about are doing that job, quietly and secretly, without me having to say a word.

Let's start fighting this at the source.  Stop the unquestioned acceptance of casual sexism.  Forty years ago, people made casually racist jokes all the time.  Those who questioned those jokes were laughed off as overly sensitive and overly political.  But casually racist jokes, while certainly not gone, are not publicly acceptable anymore, at least not in most national media or in relatively educated circles of progressive people. Unfortunately, I know dozens of educated, progressive men who would publicly make a casually sexist joke ( "women are so confusing!") without hesitation, but would never publicly make a casually racist joke ( "black people are so [fill in blank]!").  The same can be said for many television shows.  There is ample room for progress here.

A final note to the guys who make these jokes.  Some of you make these jokes because you are mad at one particular woman.  Please imagine instead that you were mad at a man of color.  Would you turn to facebook and post a litany of racist jokes?  Less likely.  Because you understand that man of color to be one person who has wronged you, not the embodiment of his entire race.  Please, if you can try just one time, try to consider that women are also individual people.

Women are not all alike.  We do not all think the same way.  We do not all treat you the same way.  We are all real human beings who have the same kind of brain as you do, and we deserve to be treated that way.  Furthermore, we do not owe you anything.  We have bad days and get grumpy.  We sometimes don't feel like talking.  Sometimes we find people unattractive.  We have not betrayed you.  We are just people with opinions that are as valid as yours.

Instead of extrapolating your anger at one woman to all other women, try instead to feel just a little bit of empathy and human understanding.  Imagine feeling frightened for your safety on a regular basis, being ordered by large men you don't know to smile when you're having a terrible day, having perfect strangers comment on your appearance on a daily basis,  hearing your elected officials discussing your genitalia and what you should be allowed to do with it, being told that if you are unfortunate enough to be raped that you will be forced to be pregnant for the better part of a year and then forced to give birth to a child you are frightened of and angry at, and then at the end of a long day seeing the people you love and respect making jokes with your inferiority as the punchline.

It needs to stop.  We need to stop laughing it off.  Call it out when you hear it.  Call it out in front of your children.  Casual sexism is the base upon which all of this other terrible stuff is built.  We need to stop it at the source.  And teach our children to do the same.  If we're lucky, by the time our kids are grown they'll know casual sexism when they hear it and they'll stand up and denounce it, and we can finally stop having to listen to our elected officials needing to clarify that despite their prior statements, they actually believe raping women is bad.

Caring for a Newborn: It's Kind of a Big Deal

I've recently heard from a few different friends, at home with newborns, who've said variations on the theme "I'm ok, I sleep 3 hours and then feed the baby and then sleep another 2-3 hours, so that's 6 hours of sleep, which is plenty."  No naps?  I ask.  "No, I have stuff to do, and 6 hours is ok.  I feel fine."

Ok mama.  I know you are a superhero.  I've seen you accomplish amazing things.  You are a tough lady.  But this newborn thing, this is different than the other stuff you've done.  First of all, two 3-hour naps is not 6 hours of sleep.  You may feel ok, but you are sleep-deprived.  You are.  6 solid hours a night isn't even really enough when you're taking care of a crying baby all day.  You're not even getting that.  In a few months time, when you come out of this fog, you will realize that it's a fog.

Let's try a test.  Where are your keys?  What did you have for breakfast this morning?  Did it take a normal amount of time for you to answer those questions?  If so, you can skip the rest of this.

I know you just want to feel normal, and go to bed at your pre-baby bedtime, and wake up at your pre-baby wakeup time, and get stuff done around the house like you used to pre-baby.  And you will, in a few months.

But right now is newborn time.  It's not normal, it's not permanent, and you don't have to pretend everything is ok.  You can and should treat yourself like you're severely ill.  If you had a vicious stomach bug, would you go to bed and wake up at the normal times?  Would you get up and clean the house?  No, you'd probably take care of yourself, get as much rest as possible, and wait until you were feeling better before you got back to the normal routine.

That's what you need to do now.  You don't win any contests by going to bed at 11 or washing dishes when you could be napping. Go to bed when the baby goes to sleep and it is dark outside.  That might be 8pm.  You are not lazy.   If the baby wakes at 7am, eats, and then goes back to sleep for 2 more hours, you do that too.  You are not lazy.  Let your partner deal with the dishes and laundry if they can.  Outsource housework as much as possible.  You are not lazy.  You are already doing more housework than anybody else, simply by caring for a baby.  Baby care is work.  It's hard work.  And you should be proud of it and count it as a major accomplishment every day.

You're keeping a baby alive by feeding it every 2-3 hours, changing diapers, and holding, rocking and soothing it when it cries.  Nobody in the world should expect you to be doing anything else right now.  Especially you.