Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Tough Love

We live in a society that believes and relies pretty heavily on "tough love."

It's virtually a necessity for raising kids.

At least if you want to raise happy, mentally and emotionally healthy, successful children who are also deeply compassionate, genuinely kind, selfless, have a high standard of morals and values, and also typically choose to make the "right" choice not in fear of some consequence or in hope of lavish praise or of some sort of reward, but simply because they know the good feelings of doing what's right.

Yes, if you want to raise those sort of kids to become those sort of adults, you certainly must practice tough love, I suppose.

I do.

When my kid is not listening, instead of yelling, threatening, or offering up a bribe in trade for compliance, I get on their level in order to access the situation. Together, we work out what is going on and why they feel unable to comply. Sometimes it's not a situation where non-compliance is a choice, but more often than not we can come to a happy compromise: 10 more minutes of play, then we got to the grocery store, or one more book and then our body must be still for bedtime. I admit it, it can sometimes be tough. But I love them.

When my kids fight, though not often, it does happen, and it's like nails on a chalkboard to me. I cannot stand it. The easy thing to do would be to split them up, dole out blame and consequences, and move on. But that wouldn't solve anything other than a little peace for me. It wouldn't help them at all, most especially in their relationship with one another. So I stop what I'm doing - sometimes that means turning the stove off and letting dinner wait 15 minutes. We sit together. We discuss. Everyone gets a turn to say their piece. There is no blame, just their own thoughts and feelings. We re-iterate our house rules: Be kind always, no name calling, etc. I play mediator while they work out a compromise, offering up solutions when needed (they are, after all, still learning). It's tough for sure, especially when I have to stop whatever I'm doing. But I love them.

I lay in bed with them until they slumber off to dreamland. I fantasize about having those kids that you simply say, "bed time" and that's that. You don't hear from them until 8am the next day. But those aren't my kids. My kids need loved on and snuggles and bed time stories and songs and my warm body to cuddle next to while they fall asleep. It makes them feel safe and secure before entering a long night of separation. I oblige them that comfort every night. Even when I'm tired myself. Even when I have a list a mile long of what still needs accomplished for the day. Even when they're taking an especially long time to fall asleep. It really is tough some nights. But I love them.

I am their ally always. When they makes mistakes, are trudging through new territory, whatever the case may be. I'm always their ally. Even when they are in the wrong, I am their support person. I help them make amends, I help them understand what the consequences, both positive and negative, that their words or actions might have had. I do not condemn, even when I have to refrain from sighing heavily because it all seems so obvious to me. I do not hand out arbitrary punishments or lavish them with a false sense of amazingness (though, we must all admit, they are pretty amazing). They know that they can always come to me for any reason, and even if I disagree with them, I will still be non-judgmental and help them through it. At times it can be awfully tough, but I love them.

When I feel so spent and impatient and just want to yell so that someone listens to me, I muster up some self-composure and model the sort of self-discipline I hope my children learn from me. Goodness, it's tough. But oh how I love them.

Of course, it's easier to yell, threaten, bribe, punish, coerce, ignore. The result is immediate. You feel powerful: you "won" (against a 5 year old...you're so powerful). Taking the time and energy, summing up the patience and self-control to work through things with a child - to explain, to model, to reason with; especially when it seems so miniscule to you, is tough. So, so tough. But trust me, you love them. So it's worth it.