Experiments in Parenting

I have long considered parenting a giant experiment, and just because you have one kid and eventually think you have it pretty much figured out, that doesn't mean whatever you did is going to be appropriate for the next kid. Or the next. (And, no, there will be no "next" over here; just furthering a point). A friend of mine said something similar, adding, "You just have to see how they turn out to know whether it worked or not." But I don't think that's how it works. I know people who have had amazing parents and great childhoods, and were just messes. And there are people you think should be in dire straits because of the terrible start they had, and they're content, balanced, peaceful people.

I think the only way to determine "success" is to figure out what your priorities are, and then parent in light of those. And while it's natural to have an outcome-based mindset ("I want her to grow up to be a well-adjusted philanthropist"), I don't think that's particularly healthy. If you're always thinking to some nebulous future, it's difficult to parent in the moment, but instead to extrapolate out in unhealthy ways ("If I don't make him clean his room now, he'll never develop discipline and he'll shoot up an abandoned gas pump and blow up a bunch of cows when he's 19.")

Short version of how to parent: Do the best you know how, and when you know better, do better.

When D was little, I was much more of an authoritarian than I am now. I think this had a lot to do with the religious environment in which I was entrenched, which has the basic attitude that unless you reign in the little dickens early, the whole world will pay for it. Even when some things I did would hurt me for myself and on my kids' behalf, I wasn't aware that there were more relationship-strengthening ways to approach things.

Basically, in addition to having a totally different dad than D, Mal basically has a different mom. Insert lots of regret and guilt about D, even while knowing that, for the most part, my older kid had an amazing childhood. I wish I could do it over again; I truly do. Plus, after Mal, parenting that easy one again would seem ridiculously effortless.

But I digress.

My point here was to tell some anecdotes. I'm always aware, however, that when I speak of my parenting style, it might be taken to mean that I think I'm the greatest at this and that I think everyone should emulate me. I don't. I just think this whole beautiful mess is interesting, and I like to share. And remember.

So, we don't limit Mal's "screen time." And it's amazing to me how, at age 3, he will be watching something, have a better idea, and just turn his tablet off.

We never say "no" when he asks to watch something or play a game (unless we're about to leave), but we also never (or rarely, like if we want to watch something as a family) suggest it. And there are whole days when my very "high-input-required" child won't think of his electronic device at all, and my soul is pleading with him telepathically, "You want to see the Tusken Raider attack Luke!"

Usually, he'll watch a few minutes pretty early in the morning, then play a lot, and maybe watch something else around dinner time. We don't take the tablet to restaurants, but we do let him watch at the table at home, because it's often the only way James and I can have conversations. I'll get that to a minute.

There are days when Mal will go back to the computer several times throughout the day, and that's usually after he's had a busy few days. Those days are, honestly, a relief to me. That's when I get stuff done.

But I don't think Mal watches much more of anything than other kids his age. When D was little, I think we had a limit of 30 minutes a day. I know that was something looked forward to and considered a treat. With Mal, it's just no big deal. He can take it or leave it. But D never would have skipped a day and have missed out on the precious minutes we meted out.

Also, we don't have battles over this, and that's the most important part. It's added peace to our household. And we've given up nothing. He is an imaginative, high-energy kid. This doesn't hamper that at all.

We also don't restrict what Mal eats, in terms of which foods or at what times he eats. This often means making macaroni and cheese at 9:45 PM or a bowl of cereal at 3:30 AM. In fact, the other day, he woke up asking for a Lofthouse cookie at about that time, and then ate that and drank some soda, and went right back to sleep. I could have talked him into eating something different or not at all, but that would have probably messed up the "right back to sleep" part of that whole thing.

Being the master of his own fate, Mal probably does eat more sweets than other kids whose food is more carefully controlled, but then he also does stuff like this:

Yesterday, Mal fell asleep on the way home from a busy church/mall/McD's/grocery run. It was about 3:30 and he slept 45 minutes or so (but it pushed his bedtime back 2 hours!), waking up asking for an Oreo. I got him one, which he ate, and he asked for another. I gave him a second Oreo, and he asked for a third, which I got for him. He took one bite of it and asked, "Do we have any plain broccoli?" So then he ate a big bowl of broccoli. (And by "plain," he means not mixed in with pasta or anything fancy, but he does like it nuked for about 45 seconds so it's not raw.)

Since Mal is well and thriving, I just don't worry about the fact that he eventually had 3 Oreos, because there's something to be said for the joy of eating garbage in a lifestyle of health.

Once again, this stance means that we don't have food battles common to the "you *will* eat X, or you can eat nothing" or incentivizing certain foods (which studies have shown makes people hate the "you have to eat this first" food more than they would if they were simply forced to eat the first food without the promise of whatever treat might follow). So, more peace. That's the blessing.

It is not to say that we don't have food-related drama. No. On the contrary, we have a three-year-old.

Two examples: The other day, I cooked three-cheese ravioli. I made a garlic mushroom sauce for the rest of us, but, knowing Mal wouldn't be too keen on it, fished out his ravioli and set it aside first. He had been very interested in it before I cooked it, asking to eat a raw pillow. However, when I set the bowl in front of him, he started crying.

"No! I don't like this. It's yucky." I asked if he could just taste it to make sure. He put a ravioli on his fork and stuck his tongue out to it. Then he started screaming, "NO! I don't like this! It's too sour! I don't want to eat it!" I asked him if he'd rather have plain noodles. He said yes. I said, "Okay. I'm going to eat a few bites of this while it's still warm, then I'll cook you some noodles."

Less than a minute passed, and Mal took a bite of the ravioli. He then finished that one, and promptly ate all 4 that I'd given him. Why are kids so weird?! And, no, I didn't have to make noodles. He was happy.

Then yesterday, Mal had wanted to buy M&Ms at the store until he saw Oreos. Then he wanted those. I told him we could get one, and he could decide. He elected to get Oreos. At this point, I used my parental influence to sell him on the limited-edition Cookie Butter (INSANITY!) version, instead of "the black ones."

I had told him he could have one when we got in the car, so as soon as I strapped him in, I gave him one. Same story: He touched his tongue to it and started yelling, "No! I don't like this one!" "Do you want me to take it back?" Wailing, "YES!!!!" So I took it from him. I sat it in the console and started to leave the parking lot. We hadn't made it to the street before Mal said, "Okay. I'll try." I handed it to him and he ate it. Happily. Then, later, you know... asked for three more.

Oh, and speaking of drama, Mal has decided that we're not tending to his needs quite enough. He's on a kick where, if James and I are trying to have a conversation, he'll say, "Mommy! Can you talk to ME?" I'm like, "You're here, and you can be part of this conversation, but so is Daddy. Please don't interrupt me in the middle of a sentence." And so on. Then the other day, I was going to the bathroom and he ran up to me and asked, "Can you please give me some attention, Mamma?" IT'S PRACTICALLY ALL I EVER DO, CHILD!

I guess he just wants to show us that maybe he wasn't *that* high-needs before. Now he will show us what true high needs are? Aw, man, it's good he's so cute.