I Let My Children Say "NO!"

I have two beautiful, intelligent, independant daughters.  And I let them say "NO!"

Imagine:

Me:  "Please go and put on your socks."

Either daughter:  "No!"

Pause...

What is your reaction as a parent?  Do you reel with indignant anger that your child would dare say "No!" to you?  Do you feel frustrated?  Does your mind race with thoughts of what to say to get your child to listen?

My mind does race with those same thoughts of what to say...

Let me tell you first what I have seen some fellow mommies do when their child says "No!"

Once, at a fellow mommy's house for a playdate with her son, he said "No!" because she wanted him to pick up his toys. 

She slapped him in the mouth and told him something I've heard mothers and fathers say many times to their children-"Don't you ever say No! to an adult!" 

When she swung to slap his mouth, one of her fake nails hit him in the eye and he fell on the floor sobbing and clutching his eye.  No matter what he told her, she didn't believe that she had hit his eye.  I told her that she had hit his eye and I proceeded to check his eye that there was no damage.  Thankfully, there wasn't.  Only then did she believe that maybe she had.  Because I am an adult.

Her hitting his eye is an extreme.  But I've seen in public strangers and even fellow mommies and neighbors slap their child in the face for "talking back" because they said "No!"

The words that always came out with that action was always some sort of version of "You don't say No! to adults!" or "Don't talk back to grown ups!" or "When I tell you something, you have no right to say No!" or, word it however you want.

Sometimes, I hear these words without the child being slapped in the mouth.  Sometimes, it's a spanking.  Sometimes, it's the mother grabbing the child by the upper arm and hissing it in his or her face.  Sometimes, it's just a time-out.

In the end, what is the child being taught?  You cannot say No!  And, I'm bigger than you.

No harm, right?  Children shouldn't talk back to their parents.  Or to grown ups.  Because otherwise, they will grow up to become disrespectful to the older generation and others around them.

But, I let my kids say "No!" 

And it takes extra effort.

When they say "No!", I have to get to their eye level and discuss with them what it was that was asked of them, why they said "No!" and why I would appreciate them helping me and listening and doing what was asked.

And, most times, they cooperate.  They walk off, most times happy, sometimes a bit grumpy, but still cooperative.  And then, the added effort, my thanking them for cooperating and why it was asked of them and how it makes me feel as their Mama that they helped me.  And then, they smile and run off and do what it was that had been interrupted in the first place-playing.

The effort sometimes is frustrating.  It takes extra time.  But, there is a reward in it.

I thought about this long and hard when holding my first newborn daughter.  How sick some people in the world are, how some people hurt little children.  How I didn't want my daughters to become victims, if I could help it.

And it dawned on me.  If I told them again and again, "You are not allowed to say No!", it would be ingrained in their minds.  And, if I only talk to them once in a while about not letting people touch them and about walking away from a bully.  Which message would end up winning out.  "You are not allowed to say No!" because it's enforced more throughout their childhood.

And because, when they say "No!", they are establishing themselves as unique independant individuals with a free will of their own.  With a body and mind of their own. 

They aren't pushing my buttons to see how far they can push me.  They aren't trying to get away with being lazy or selfish.

They just want to tell me "Mommy, I don't want to do this".  And it's my job to tell them why something is being asked of them.  That I'm not trying to force them into something terrible, but that it is for their own benefit.

And sometimes, I have let the "No!" win out.  Once, my older daughter was 2 1/2 and wanted to wear a skirt in the middle of winter.  With no tights.  And a t shirt, sandals, and her rain coat. 

After trying to explain about weather and seasons and temperature and staying warm by dressing correctly for the weather, I smiled.  I said, "OK, let's go.  You will be cold.  And when you get cold, tell me and we will go inside and change to what Mama is telling you to wear.  Sound good?"

She smiled, walked outside with me, in the cold, not dressed warm at all.  She didn't make it to the car.  We came inside, I dressed her in the right kind of clothing for the cold weather outside, she hugged me and we left to go to the library.

Both of my daughters, however, have wonderful manners and I am told regularly by other adults how well-mannered they are.  They say "Yes, Please", "No, thank you", "May I please...", "Excuse me" and stand up for their friends when someone is being mean to them.  They clean their rooms daily.  They go to bed without too much of a protest, brush their teeth, and help me around the house.  They look shocked when someone is mean to someone else.  My older daughter is trying to be a vegetarian because she thinks it's sad that animals have to be killed for their meat, entirely her decision.  So, they aren't brats who get away with being disrespectful toward others.

It's not a magic bullet.  They still argue sometimes.  They don't want a shot.  They might not want a nap.  They don't always want go to school instead of staying home and playing with a new toy and each other instead.

But their independant spirit is still alive.  And I believe that if a boyfriend is ever mean to them, they will have the strength to say "NO!" and walk away.  Or, if an adult ever tries to grab them, that they will kick and scream and shout "NO!" and will put up a fight that could possibly save their life. 

Or, if a supervisor wants them to do something unethical, that they will stand up for their beliefs.  The possibilities of how this life skill might help them is endless.

So, I get on my knees, sigh internally because I really don't feel like having to explain myself as the adult, and I talk to them.  As an equal.  Because, to me, they are.

One day, they will be adults. 




Everyone has their own parenting style.  This is not a criticism of how others parent.  This is just what I do and what works for us, and why.  I'm not perfect, no parent is.

However, if your parenting style includes hitting your child and you regularly feel frustrated, please talk to your pediatrician and find out about parenting classes that could help you learn other methods.  For your sake, and for your childs.

This post is syndicated on BlogHer!

 

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My Pacifier and Why I Didn't Give One to My Children

When I was a little girl, I loved my pipek, my pacifier.  And why wouldn't I have?  At only 1 1/2, I had already lived through Communism and snuck over the Polish border (with the potentially penalty of death) into Austria, leaving all our family and belongings, including all my toys, behind. 

In Austria, we waited for American paperwork and my mother became pregnant with my brother.

To say I had a stressful first few years of life is accurate.  But, all in all, I was still a very happy child.

I did, after all, have pipek.

One day, in the Austrian countryside, when I was a little over 2 years old, my parents convinced me to throw my beloved pipek to the chickens.  After all, I was a "big girl".

I threw it willingly and the chickens celebrated this new treat by fighting over it and trying to figure out how to use it themselves, as they had no lips.

Little did my parents know that in the middle of the night I would have a toddler conniption fit which would bring my father out into the night looking and hunting for a replacement pipek throughout the village we stayed and even visiting another village near us until he found one.

He has told me since that I not only wanted my pipek but a blue one with a flower.  Yes, I was specific.  And chic.

I went on to use my beloved pipek until I was about 3 1/2 years old, when my parents made me give it up against my will.  At the time, we were living in the US in a townhouse with my new brother, having had my hand severly burned by accident and learning my third language by then.

Later on, my pipek caused my father to have to get me braces as a teenager.

So, when my children were born, I offered them each 5 different styles of pipeks a total of 3 times each.  They refused them and I celebrated that we wouldn't have to go through anything like what my parents did. 

I got quite a bit of grief from some friends and a pediatric nurse for not allowing them to have a pipek.

But, guess what?  My children didn't cry or whine anymore than children who did use pacifiers.  When they wanted to suck on something, I nursed them.  And they grew.

To each their own.

I'll try to find a picture of myself as a small child with my beloved pipek.

Na razie...

One Reason Why I Babywear

My older daughter’s school requires parents to volunteer a certain amount of time or pay a tuition increase.  Since I don’t have the extra cash to waste on something easily avoided and also needed to get out and meet people in our new neighborhood, I decided it was a great opportunity for me.  Well, for us.

Yes, us.  For myself and… baby!  I don’t have family nearby and I also don’t know anyone in order to leave her during the day to volunteer.  So, I take her with me to the school.  But how to do that without causing a distraction for myself and the students or putting her in a potentially dangerous situation?  Baby wear!

I volunteer once a week for lunch duty, sometimes more if needed.  So, we go to the office, sign in, and I strap baby to my front or back in our Mei Tai or Ring Sling, whichever I brought along that day.  I’d love a wrap as well but that’s not an option right now.

We walk into the cafeteria and greet the students who all, at first, crowded around asking a thousand questions: “Is this your baby?”, “Why is she in that thing?”, “What’s that called?” and comments about how most of them had never seen such a thing.  Now, as the year has gone by, they are used to seeing baby and myself and simply say “Hello” to both of us, greet the baby by name, and go on about their lunch break.

The main reason I am at lunch duty is to help the younger children open milk cartons and their lunches, clean up messes, walk around and make sure every child is eating, has something to eat, and is happy.  You never know when you might come across a kid who doesn’t feel well, or got their feelings hurt, or forgot their lunch, etc.  And since baby is in a carrier, my hands are free to help while baby helps them smile and feel more open with me to share whatever problem they might have.

There is a particular girl who in the beginning of the year was being picked on for looking different. It’s not her fault.  So, wearing this exciting and excited baby of mine, and sporting a pair of glasses that day as well, I sat and talked with her at lunch while the children who picked on her watched.  She has not been picked on since that day as far as she has told me, and feels special because I make it a point to stop and talk to her every time.  Again, with baby who’s smiling, laughing, and hugging her from her safe perch against Mommy’s chest.

My older daughter loves to see us and tells everyone, “That’s my Mommy and Baby Sister!” and tells everyone about us.  She’s very proud.

And, of course, we can’t forget baby.  At first, she was still a little baby so she would watch quietly snuggled against me and after a few minutes, fall asleep.  Now, she’s over a year old and smiles and squeaks and “talks” to the children and watches everything they do.  She’s developing relationships, recognizing certain faces, and learning how to act in social situations, all from the safety of my arms, or baby carrier.

I think the cutest experience out of this so far has been the fact that many girls have come up to me asking how to wear a baby and parents have also told me, some showing cell phone pictures, that their children now walk around the house “wearing” their baby dolls with scarves, pillow cases, etc.  One little girl even asked Santa Claus for a toy ring sling.  Her mother came to me and asked where she could find such a thing.

I knew volunteering at a school is important.  But I never realized the kind of impression my bringing baby along would do, especially since I am not an expert at baby wearing at all.  I hope this inspires someone to wear their baby and maybe even realize that doing so opens the world to them and their child in an easy and nurturing way.