Attachment Parenting International Blog

Doing The “Right” Thing Is Never Easy

Joni — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 12:08:55 +0000

Baby knows best. Really. They are perhaps not scholars just yet but they do know what they need better than any of us and well, we should listen to them . . . and if we did they would probably say . . . that doing the “right” thing is never easy.

Like when you were a kid and were forced to apologize and admit error–it was the “right” thing to do, but it was so hard to say that you were wrong. Or, choosing to skip a party in order to study instead of cheating on a final exam in high school. Studying was hard work, but it was “right,” right?

I’ve come to the conclusion, or even grand epiphany perhaps, that doing the “right” thing as a parent is also not the easier choice. I came to this conclusion after struggling once again following sleepless nights and clingy days with the attachment parenting philosophy that we have adopted as parents. The attachment parenting tenets are simple really and were so appealing to us initially because they essentially support the beliefs that we already held about parenting. To us, AP Principles just seem like no-brainers: go to your child when he cries–he needs you, breastfeed your baby–it’s food that’s literally made for him, sleep with your child–because you are a parent at night too, use positive discipline to teach your child–negativity punishes, hold and wear your baby–it fosters bonding and security, etc.

Even rereading these as I type them, I find myself nodding in agreement–unable to imagine parenting any other way. But problems arise for this gentle parenting scenario not from any inherent flaws in a plan that seeks to parent gently and respectfully, but from other parents who have found an “easier” way. See, this kind of parenting requires a mom and dad who are fully committed to sacrificing much of their own needs for that of their baby’s. In other words, it takes dedication and patience–a lot, a lot of patience–and a great deal of self-sacrifice.

I am specifically talking about the issue of nighttime sleeping. Fewer issues get as much airtime during playdates, mommy groups, or any other gathering of moms and babies–it’s simply at the heart of every discussion. Exhausted, delirious and desperate mommies eagerly compare notes and exchange sleep tricks in search of something that will help them get more sleep. And, no matter how you try and spin it or how much you try to avoid the inevitable final conclusion, the sleep issue comes down to two dismal options: “sleep training” your baby, or not.

Sleep training methods vary greatly from one to another, but the one thing that they all have in common is that they all include some degree of crying. I have written much about my feelings as they pertain to “crying it out” and though the first was many sleepless months ago, I still do have a problem with my baby crying–yes, I’ve said it, I do not let my baby cry without intervening in an effort to alleviate the cause whatever that cause may be. Why? Because I believe that my son is communicating with us when he is crying–I do not believe that babies cry just to cry, in other words. Sometime this communication may be asking for basic needs to be met and other times it may just be a way to ask for a hug, a cuddle, or a kiss. But, you see, one does not surpass the other in importance for me. My baby’s need to be touched is just as importance as his need to be fed or changed. I will respond in either case and at any time. And that is where myself and my husband diverge from the parents who try to sell us the success of sleep training and tout the amount of sleep that it has brought them. But, at what cost, I want to ask them.

I believe family bed advocates when they claim that co-sleeping raises independent, confident and secure children–I also believe that leaving your baby to fend for them self during these times of nighttime need may produce children who are more dependent, anxious and insecure. I also know that these one or two or three years dealing with his sleeplessness as a baby is small in scale when compared to the number of years that we won’t have to. I will be old and he will no longer by my baby–I will look back on these years with a tender heart yearning for the moments when I was able to hold him in my arms to return.

I do, however, from time to time grow weak–very weak. I do whine and fuss and complain about exhaustion and the need for a moment to myself. During these times I do momentarily wonder if we should not also “train” Noah to self soothe, to sleep alone, to quiet his need for love, comfort and affection just because it is the moon, not the sun, that has risen above the horizon. Those parents are convincing and proud. They’re confident and I suppose, maybe even some look rested.

But, then I give it a second thought. I listen to my heart and am reminded of why I have chosen the more challenging path. When I grow weak and weary, I turn a listening ear to my instinct, my mama gut–and find that I know deep down in my heart that parenting this way, for me, is the “right” way to parent. And, like all things that are “right” it is most certainly the more difficult choice–it may continue to be for a while still to come. But . . . doing the “right” thing is never easy, right?

Travel to Attachment

Jasmine — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 02:54:42 +0000

When my foster brothers–who suffered with attachment disorder– were in some of the worst periods of their sickness, a therapist suggested that we travel. It throws children in to one of their most dependent states. They don’t know anyone else, they don’t know where they are, they are not surrounded by the familiar items of their home. Often even their food and sleeping patterns change and flex according to the travel schedule. This, the therapist said, would make it an ideal situation for bonding, because you (as the parent) were the only constant, stable thing in their life.

I am about to go on a road trip with my (almost) 17 month old son. And not a small or short road trip either, we are going to Texas. We are driving from northern MN to Texas and then we will be spending 10 days there, not in the same place– we have to do some traveling in Texas as well– and then road tripping back. His schedule will be thrown off, his food will be different, he will have to spend hours confined to his car seat, he will have to visit people he doesn’t know (very well) and will have to wear disposable diapers. These are all very unsettling things in a small child’s life. I have found myself becoming increasingly nervous. Until I remembered what the therapist had said. Now my son, by no means, has an attachment disorder but I thought about what she had said and applied it to our upcoming situation and it has begun to turn my feelings of trepidation in to ones of excitement.

We are going to have a blast! We are going to get out of normal routine. We are going to spend all kinds of time together doing new and different things. We are going to experience things together in a whole new way. The “old” places to me are not going to feel “old” or routine this time because I am going to experience them through the eyes and emotions of my child. What an invigorating experience!

Through this trip we are going to continue to forge our attachment and on the other side of the thousand miles of road we will travel we are going to come out, still and again, a very bonded pair.

That being said, anyone want to leave some tips on how to keep this busy little man occupied and happy (as possible) during this long trip? (i.e. snack, games, toys, etc.)

The Messages We Send Our Children

Carolyn — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 12:36:53 +0000

I am currently at the end of nursing my two youngest children through a bout of Influenza. This year’s strain of influenza, the Influenza A H1N1 is spreading rapidly and bringing with it messages of fear even for the most positive thinking parents. When children are sick it is natural for them to be afraid. I have put a lot of thought into the messages that I want my children to hear about their bodies, illness and their body’s ability to heal itself. This carries over into the way I want them to view issues of weight as they enter their teen and adult years and is a long term way of giving them the tools they need to avoid falling into the trap of eating disorders either on the under-eating or over-eating end of that spectrum.

While they were sick I kept repeating the message to them “Your body is strong, it will heal itself” and “yes you have a fever, the fever is a sign your body is working to fight off the virus,” “throwing up is a way for your body to get rid of the germs in your stomach and is a good thing” and “coughing is a way for your body to get germs out so it’s important to not take anything to stop the coughing.”

I believe the body wants to be well and is a self-healing entity and when we are fighting off the inevitable viruses that attack our bodies as important as a strong immune system is a strong belief in the body’s desire for balance and wellness. These are the messages I want my children to hear while they are sipping water, lying on the couch watching cartoons and fighting off whatever bug has bit them.

I am very careful not to jump for the pill bottle for them or myself and even do not jump to the herbal or natural remedies too quickly either and when I do I describe them as support for the body rather than a cure.

And as important as what I say is what I do. My children watch me and know what I am putting into my body, they know if I’m fearful when I get sick. They worry about mommy when she’s not well and I repeat the same messages to them. And they are always true. I rarely get sick but when I do I get better quickly.
They see it happen and they know it to be true.

I apply this same approach in the matter of discipline.

I believe that children want to behave in ways that avoids hurting others, that they want to be kind and gentle and do the right thing for others. I’ve seen very natural and spontaneous acts of kindness from very small children and believe that they naturally want to follow that course. They are just in need of guidance as to how their actions affect others. I don’t believe being fearful of a parent is conducive to imparting that message which is why I avoid punitive discipline.

The messages I try to relay in all those situations are ones of emotion. “That made your friend very happy when you gave her that toy, you must be very proud of yourself,” or “you didn’t mean to hurt your friend, you seem very sorry,” and “I am very proud of you.” The last one I say a lot and is not dependent upon their behaviour. It is important that they know how I feel about them outside of their behaviour and I tell them how proud I am of them at random moments.

Another message that I try to impart to them regularly is that I am absolutely thrilled to be their mom. I tell them that I am the luckiest mom because they are my children and that being their mom is my greatest joy.

This message is the most important one because it counterbalances those very human moments when I am not the most patient mom, they know how I really feel so that when I apologise for being angry or disappointing them or for making very human mistakes they believe it because they have seen through my words and most of my actions that I mean it.

From the very beginning, from the moment we respond to their first cry, to that toddler moment when we return a snatched toy to impress upon them that others have needs as well as theirs, while consoling them during illness and while tucking them in on a regular old night, the messages we give our children, spoken as well as acted, are soaked sponge-like into their brains.

And because of this the messages we send through our words and actions are probably our number one tool in shaping the adults they become and increases the likelihood that they will become emotionally strong, healthy, capable and truly happy adults.

When Attachment Parenting Speaks for Itself

Amber — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 09:27:28 +0000

When my first child was born I often felt like I was swimming against the current. My decisions to exclusively breastfeed, co-sleep, wear my baby and practice gentle discipline often set me apart from other parents. For the most part, that was fine with me. I had carefully considered my decisions, and was comfortable with them. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t experience the occasional twinge of self-doubt.

From time to time, and particularly when I was having ‘one of those days’, I wondered if I was making a horrible mistake. What if I was really just being over-indulgent? What if all of the things I did to foster a secure connection ended up creating a monster? I know that all parents face these sorts of questions from time to time. I am no different, I’ll admit it.

My friends and family were very understanding, and accepted my parenting decisions without question. Their support meant a lot to me. As my daughter grew, though, I began to sense an undercurrent of doubt from them as well. Breastfeeding a 2-year-old is still very unusual in our culture. Foregoing the naughty chair is, too. I might have been projecting my own concerns, but I think they sometimes wondered how all of my wacky ideas would turn out in the end.

My attachment-parented children

By the time my daughter became a preschooler things turned around. She grew old enough to speak for herself. She weaned from the breast. She decided she wanted to walk instead of being carried. She grew into an outgoing and independent little girl. In short, she did all of those things that attachment parenting advocates said that she would.

Today my daughter is 4 1/2 and my son is 14 months old. They are both still very young children, relatively speaking. But as they’ve gotten older they have both silenced my self-doubt, and the doubts of others. It’s one thing to read about attachment theory, it’s quite another to see it play out in front of your eyes. There is no greater endorsement of attachment parenting than watching attachment-parented kids are grow into great little people.

If I could go back and tell myself one thing in the early days of parenting, it would be that it gets easier. As your little ones grow and develop and mature, you reach a point where you don’t need to explain your parenting choices anymore. This is even more true when you have another baby. Issues that generated a lot of discussion with my first child didn’t even merit a thought with my second. These days, for the most part, my attachment parenting choices speak for themselves. I’m so glad that I stuck with it when I was unsure, and that I’ve made it this far.

Learning How to Share

sonya — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 09:27:11 +0000

My son lay sobbing on the sun-room floor between our daybed and coffee table. If I tried to come near him, he kicked his feet and cried harder. His nanny was leaving and he didn’t want her to go. In fact, she had just told me moments before, “Your son won my heart today. He told me he loved me.”

Cavanaugh is nearly three. He has had a nanny six hours a week for the last three months. Besides the time he spends with his dad and the few months my mom lived in town and saw him a couple of afternoons a week, Cavanaugh is with me and has been with me pretty much all of the time for his entire life. So it was hard for me to watch him cry for someone else.

I’m excited he loves playing with her, loves her even. It helped that I’m reading A Secure Base: Parent-Child Attachment and Healthy Human Development by John Bowlby. I needed the reassurance that his ability to feel so attached to her comes because our relationship has provided such a secure base from which he can explore. But he didn’t even want me in the same room with him.

So I sat fifteen feet away on the living room couch and tried to figure out if it was better for me to face away from him and just sit there so he knew he wasn’t alone or look at him over the back of the couch so I would know when he was ready for me to hold and console him.

But I needed a little consolation myself. It took a lot for me to get to the point where I was even ready to have someone else take care of my child. The principle to provide consistent and loving care just seemed easier to manage if I was the one providing the care. Until I wasn’t being so consistently loving because I was getting burned out. Honestly, it took a while to get over my guilt at feeling so exhausted. But I’m human. I needed a break.

Then came the questions: How could we justify paying for a caretaker since I’m staying at home to be with him? How could we find someone who would honor his sensitive personality, be consistent with our parenting philosophy, and care for him–not just take care of him, but genuinely care about him?

As I worked out the logistics of finding another caretaker for him, whether to have someone in our house or take him elsewhere, if we should try a mother’s day out or a preschool, how large a group my introvert could handle and how to let him ease into a group and get used to another adult as a caretaker, I thought about how he would feel. I wondered about him learning how to share with other kids, or share his days with another caretaker, or share me so I could take some time for myself. I never imagined what it would feel like for me to have to learn how to share him.

The truth is he and I are both having to learn how to negotiate his having a nanny. We’re both experiencing growing pains and trying to learn what’s okay. When I walk out of my office to get to the kitchen or bathroom, Cavanaugh runs over from playing with Nena and pushes my bottom as he says, “Go back to work Mama” because he’s afraid I’m coming out to signal it is time for her to go home. Other times, he peeks his head in to see me and asks for a hug or finds some other reason to just see me for a minute, “Can I use the special marker Mama?” or “Nena and I are going to paint Mama.”

For my part, I have had to figure out how to spend my time, how to find a balance between needing a break and needing to be a productive human being with my own goals outside of motherhood. The first time he fell down and hurt himself while she was here, I went rushing in to comfort him and found him sitting in her embrace, the tears already waning.

We’re both growing up. And we’re both learning how to share. It’s hard work.

Sonya Fehér is co-leader of the South Austin chapter of API. She blogs at mamaTRUE: parenting as practice.

Letting Go

Jasmine — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 14:55:53 +0000

My little sister got married this past weekend and she moved to Texas. My brother got dumped by the girlfriend that he was going to ask to marry him. The ring is sitting on his desk. Our little community has been in emotional upheaval, to say the least.

Here are just a few of the emotions that have been flying around: joy, excitement, nerves, jealousy, sadness anger, fear and pain.

This past week I have watched as my son has run through a gamut of emotions himself. He has no idea what is going on but can feel the emotional tension in the air. He realizes that he has been less of the center of attention than usual and I, his mother, have been much busier lately— maybe a little preoccupied.

As I turn my attention back (or I should say refocus it) on my son these last couple of days, I am watching him express at a more base–or raw– level the same emotions I have been experiencing this past week. To top it off, his daddy had to go out of town for work this week. He is expressing large amounts of fear about that; he doesn’t like me– or his grandmother or occasionally others– to leave his sight; he cries. I am sure at the bottom of this is a fear that we will leave and not come back. He doesn’t know that his aunt will be back for Christmas, that we will see her in a few weeks at her reception, that she has not walked out of his life for good. I realize that I too experienced these emotions. As I watched my beautiful sister-bride walk down the aisle, I cried. I cried when she left. I cried afterward. I could cry now. It isn’t that I am unhappy for her– I know I will see her again soon. I know she has not walked out of my life. Even though my child’s emotions are far more based in the fear of being abandoned, there are some of mine that also stem from that same fear. They also come from letting go.

Have you ever noticed how so many people never seem to really let people go? They don’t ever fully feel their fear, their sadness, their loss; they tell themselves that they “shouldn’t” feel that way, that they “should” feel happy that this it is “better this way”. Some of these answers may be true, but that really doesn’t matter. The fact is you do feel that way, it isn’t better right now, right now it hurts. I know there are many people who will now tell my brother that this really wasn’t meant to be and that he is better off without his girlfriend, that it is better that this happened now instead of later… etc. But the fact is today it isn’t! Today it hurts! There is a process to letting go and as we mature we find more appropriate ways– other than throwing tantrums– to do this. But it will still involve emotion because to really love someone you have to be able to let them go and you have to be able to do it while feeling all of the emotion that goes along with that process. In some ways I had to become more like my son, more childlike and raw in my emotions.

This past weekend I also experienced a fast forward you might say– or a little peek in to the future. I watched as my dad gave my sister away. I watched as my mom held my brother as he cried out his broken heart. I saw my son reflected in my siblings this past week and I realized that the day he was born I began the process of letting him go.

Birthday Boy

sarah — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 12:00:04 +0000

Today is my son’s birthday; he is eight years old. He is my firstborn.

I have been a parent for eight years. My parenting has evolved during that time.

When I was first pregnant with him, I had visions of a cheery, chubby baby who would enter my life, but wouldn’t alter it significantly. I’d still work, still exercise, still cook elaborate meals, and of course the house would remain clean! I’d still go about my daily business, but accompanied by a baby in a bouncy seat who would nap quite a lot, and giggle and smile the rest of the time.

I have no idea why I had these thoughts. I have a bachelor’s degree in child development; I knew without a doubt that babies are not like this! But yet I remained in my own little pretend world.

In my college years, I had learned the huge benefits of breastfeeding, and knew without a doubt that I would breastfeed my baby. In perusing the internet on breastfeeding information, I came across a term: attachment parenting.

This sounded fabulous! As my pregnancy progressed and I began to feel closer and more bonded to the baby inside me. I knew that this attachment parenting sounded right. To hold my baby as much as I wanted! To not encourage crying! To bring my baby everywhere! It sounded wonderful!

I looked at it from an academic point of view. Of course this would encourage bonding, and closeness, and would ease and eliminate the baby’s stress.

As such, I purchased a sling and a co-sleeper. But I also bought a crib. Aren’t you just supposed to have a crib? I had visions of me going into the baby’s room in the middle of the night to nurse him, happy as could be, and then laying him back down in his crib and going back to bed to finish my refreshing night’s sleep.

I felt ahead of the game and completely prepared because I started attending La Leche League when I was about six months pregnant. I read all sorts of breastfeeding books. I attended Bradley childbirth lessons. This whole baby thing was going to be a breeze!

And then he was born.

And I didn’t sleep for the next six weeks.

My son was born with an oral aversion which made nursing difficult. He cried. He woke in the middle of the night a lot. He didn’t smile or giggle or like his bouncy seat.

I was so tired.

It never occurred to me that a baby might be cold or hot or have a scratchy tag. He just cried, and I didn’t know why! Dressing him was completely unlike dressing a doll. Was I feeding him enough? Was I not feeding him enough? Our pediatrician told us about fevers, but how in the world do I know if my baby has a fever?

Why didn’t my husband have breasts so I could just sleep for four hours in a row?

Even though I knew the academics of attachment parenting, putting it into practice was like a lightbulb going off. My baby spent a total of one night in the co-sleeper, before he was just in our bed. We found that when we held him, he slept. He and I worked through the first part of the oral aversion and got our nursing down pat. After my husband’s month-long paternal leave ended, I was nervous about being alone with The Baby. We made it work; I held him for eight hours and read books while he nursed. As he got older we joined playgroups, mommy and me times, and attended LLL.

The crib became a toy repository and cat hideaway.

It is now eight years later, and my boy’s a second grader. He’s 100% on solid food. He sleeps all night, and in his own bedroom. Heaven help me if ever asked to be in the sling. He is responsible, smart, hardworking, kind, respectful, caring, empathic, and friendly.

Happy birthday to my amazing kid! You are the dream of my past, the joy of my present, and the key to the future.

I’ve previously written about my son’s oral aversion at API Speaks.

The Internal Struggle

kayris — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 13:24:30 +0000

Although I consider myself an AP mom, I had never heard the term before my children were born, and for a long time, I didn’t know that the techniques I employed as a mother were considered Attachment Parenting.

A lot of the principles of AP came to me naturally: I breastfed both kids, practiced infant massage, and wore my babies in slings and carriers. I knew from the very beginning that cutting my work hours and staying home as much as possible was the right choice for my family. And I knew that I never wanted to spank my children.

Other principles came about when facing challenges as a parent. When my son was having some sleeping difficulties, so many people told me to just let him cry it out and he’d be sleeping like an angel within a week. But it didn’t feel right to me. I started to look into other, more gentle ways of sleep training, and that led to part time co-sleeping, and my discovery of the “AP Way.”

In general, although I know the Mommy Wars do exist in some form, I’ve had very little strife in my own life when it comes to parenting choices. This may because I tend to gravitate towards people with the same sort of philosophy, or it could be because people are less likely to be nasty and judgmental to your face (as opposed to the Internet, where anything goes), but most discussions about breastfeeding, co-sleeping, staying home or not spanking have been respectful. I love to talk about AP and how well it works for us, especially when friends mention their children’s sleeping issues.

But just recently, I have found myself in a position where those around me, so to speak, are not on the same page. It’s an online mom’s forum, and there are all kinds of moms there: religious moms, atheist moms, single moms and married moms. There are moms of different races, different backgrounds, and different beliefs. Sometimes it gets nasty, sometimes there is finger pointing, sometimes there is name calling, and there is definitely judgment.

When I read a post by someone who not only practices but heartily recommends something that goes against everything I believe in, I found myself struggling internally. Is it possible to ignore it? Is it advisable to ignore it? Where should an AP mom’s desire to spread the news end?

In the end, I usually end up doing nothing, while inside my head I’m screaming, “No! You can’t spoil a 6 week old baby, don’t let her lie there and cry!”

One part of the reason I bite my tongue is because after years of being online and being a member of various groups, I’ve realized that there is no point in arguing with a nameless, faceless person on the Internet who isn’t inclined to change her mind. The other part is because I actually work for that particular website, and it’s my job to be nice.

For now, my personal rule is to only really bring up the nitty gritty of Attachment Parenting and the principles if someone specifically asks for help. Then I share what we do, how it works for us. I also include references for books, websites, and of course, API Speaks. I figure if someone is asking, she really wants to know, and that way I can avoid being the target of the name calling, judgment and finger pointing, while still spreading the word.

How about you? As an AP parent, how do you balance being a representative of the AP philosophy without overstepping bounds and making enemies?

Slowing down to smell the stillness, re-energizes

Martha — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 12:00:59 +0000

I just used up a bag of flour that I’ve had in my pantry for the past couple of years.

I only had it for the occasional sauce thickening agent, or… uh… why did I have that bag of flour? I guess it’s just one those things that is expected. One must have flour or you cannot consider yourself a member of polite society, or something like that.

The point is, I used almost all of it in the last month.

I actually used the flour — to bake.

Since becoming a mother, I have gone through a metamorphosis. Recently, I have emerged with a fresh desire to actually experience such ordinary activities as eating and dressing.

I want to avoid flat, lifeless experiences like shopping in a grocery store with tinny muzak playing in the background, dead air circulating, and food rotting in piles with Sale signs flashing in front of my face.

I want to roll my own flour tortillas from scratch and make fresh pasta.

I want to grow a fall garden and sew my own clothes. I want to keep chickens in the back yard (yes, we can do that in Austin, TX, I think…) so I can eat fresh eggs every morning. I want to avoid buying things that come in packages.

I’ve realized that this all ties into some new changes in Annika. I have been feeling more free than I have in months because I am finally able to get up when Annika falls asleep. She is sleeping a little longer, and a little deeper these days and it has given me a new found sense of freedom.

But the truth is, it has only been recently that I have even wanted to get up again.

For the first months of Annika’s life I sat with her during most naps and held her, breathed in her sweet newborn-ness. I loved snuggling with her and most nights, I couldn’t wait until bedtime when I could snuggle with her tininess. I loved the moment she fell asleep when her solid little legs would stretch out on top of my legs, her soft breath slowing, her little eyes would shut, and I could see her dreaming and happy because she was in the crook of my arms.

Something about becoming a mother has made me stop, take a look around, and really be here, right now, something I have been attempting, and failing miserably at, for several years.

Having a child has breathed new life into this world, into my world.

When I first thought about having a child, I thought I would stay at home with her, for her. Not for me. I looked at it as a sacrifice.

There is a common expression, “gift of life.” I always assumed that meant the parent giving life to the child. And now? I see it the other way around.

Martha Wood is an attached mama who lives in Austin, Tx. You can read more of her blog posts at www.momsoap.blogspot.com

Attachment Through the Teen Years – AP Month 2009

Melissa — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 11:00:32 +0000

The following post, part of the AP Month 2009 Blog Carnival, is from API Co-Founder and author of Attached at the Heart, Barbara Nicholson.

Attachment Through the Teen Years
What does Attachment Parenting look like during the teen years? Is it all smooth sailing because we did our job in early childhood, carrying our babies in slings, giving them lots of love and attention, learning about positive discipline and empathic listening? Perhaps if we could raise our children in a vacuum, with no contact with the tsunami called American culture, we might have a chance!

All families will have their challenges, whether it’s the bully on the playground, the incessant marketing that bombards us every day through TV, billboards, radio, and other media, or even the economic pressures that many families are under. Drugs and alcohol will always be a part of our teens’ exposure, no matter how we raise our children, not to mention the angst of first time relationships and raging hormones!

So here is the good news: you are way ahead when you have developed a strong trusting relationship with your children. All the things that we do with our little ones apply strongly to the teen years: keeping the lines of communication open, being a good listener, and staying firm on our boundaries.

Instead of running out in the street, your new challenge is handing the keys over to the family car! Instead of having play dates with trusted family friends, your child is going places and meeting new friends and families that are completely unknown to you. All the more reason to make family connection a priority, whether it’s keeping family dinner time sacred or perhaps making Sunday a special day for family and friends.

When our children are babies and toddlers, we’re more inclined to attend parent support groups and get together socially with families who have children the same age. However, when we hit the pre-teen and teen years, we get so busy with the myriad activities of school, church, or work events that a support group is no longer on our radar – or perhaps we have kept our friends from those early years and don’t see a reason to add one more structured activity to our crazy schedules! However, it’s more critical than ever to be connected to your children’s peers and their families. Here’s an example from my family:

When one of my sons was in high school I was invited to attend a support group for parents that met once a week in the school library. I decided to attend, since I realized I didn’t know many of my son’s friend’s parents at the school and thought this would be a good opportunity to meet them. Unfortunately the meeting was not well attended…perhaps 10 parents were there from a high school of about 900 students! But what I learned there was critical to my son’s high school experience.

The support group leader led us through a parenting curriculum geared toward keeping our attachments strong and empowering us to be just as proactive as we were when our children were younger. She encouraged us to call the parents of our children’s friends, keep the lines of communication open with them, and make sure everyone is on the same page about alcohol, parties, drugs, etc. It was just the encouragement I needed to do exactly what she suggested!

My son had recently attended a party, and even though the parents were home, the party was in a guest house, relatively unsupervised! When I called about my concerns we agreed to have a meeting with the core group of teens who attended the party and their parents. The purpose was to set some guidelines for future parties, the parents agreeing to not allow the use of the guest house, that the parents would be home, and that there would be no alcohol or drugs on the premises. It felt so good for us to all meet, have some coffee, and get to know each other.

All parents deeply love their children, but many of them have never been empowered to demonstrate that boundaries come from a place of protection and love, not punishment and distrust. As an adult, my son has shared with me that he was relieved that we had that meeting. He could see that his peer group was much stronger than the parents, until we united to take back our power!

It reminds me of a story I read in TIME magazine about a band of wild young elephants who were rampaging in a reserve in Africa. The keepers realized that they had made a huge mistake by removing the young elephants from the older group. Without guidance from their elders, they were like gang members on a spree! All it took was putting the group back together and the wild ones were soon calm again.