Raising a Girl: Instilling Work Ethic

Choosing your battles is a very key element to raising your daughter.  I'm learning this every.single.day.

At this stage in her "growing up" - we could start every day in an argument that would never end.

She never wants to get up in the mornings.

She never wants to wear what I lay out for her.  When I give her the freedom to pick her own outfit she whines for me to pick out something instead.

Simple chores I get a case of defiance thrown at me.

Yes, every minute could be a battle....if I let it.

Over the weekend I did something foreign to me as far as my parenting experience (to this point) goes.

My husband and I were busy working on our property.  There were tons of things that needed to be completed inside the house (dishes, laundry, beds, kitchen counters, etc).  I decided now was the time to give my daughter more freedom mixed with work.

Work?

Yes, indeed.

Working with kids I'm finding that something is lost among many of them. It is called work ethic.  I remember being in junior high and high school just yearning for my own money.  There were things that money meant and the biggest one was freedom.  I had my first job at thirteen.  This girl wanted to work.

Today, I work with a lot of teenagers and they are doing all in their power to not work.  The ones that do have typical teenager jobs (cashiering, fast food, child care) complain that they hate working.  Even the ones who tell me they don't have to do anything at their jobs are hoping they can just quit and not work again.

I am baffled to say the least.

That is also worrisome if you think in terms for the all too near future.

What caused this?  Did we exchange teaching the importance of work with hand outs from mommy and daddy dearest?

This mama refuses to allow her kids to lack any work ethic.

My conversation with my daughter on Saturday went like this:

Me:  C you want to make some money?
C:  Yeah.  What do I have to do?
Me:  I'll make you a list of chores to do while I'm outside working with dad.
C:  OK!  Can I help make dinner too?
Me:  Yes.
C:  Awesome!

She lit up like a Christmas tree.

I made her a list of ten chores.  These were ten things that I would have been working on had I been inside on Saturday.  The list had things on it like:  Unload the dishwasher, fold one basket of laundry, make up all beds, clean the kitchen counters, keep an eye on your brother, etc.

After I walked outside she never came out to complain.  The two times I ran in to check on her she was diligently working on her list and her brother was content.

She finished the entire list.

This mama learned a valuable lesson on Saturday too.  My kid is growing up and she wants more freedoms. Maybe I haven't seen her for the capabilities she has.  Maybe I have limited her.  If I give her tasks and distance myself - she can do it on her own.

Not only is this helping her grow but it helps me out in the long run too.

I think back to when I was eight and a half years old. I had my weekly chores of dusting, vacuuming, and doing dishes (no dishwasher).  Ha!  I remember running in the store for my mom and pumping her gas too (that made me feel so grown up!) We can chalk it up to that being a different place and time.

But maybe that is a scape goat for not parenting to our fullest and giving them the baby steps of freedom they need.

Sure, I won't send her into the grocery store to get things for me.

But I will have her do that laundry and help with dinner more.

She can get used to vacuuming and mopping on Saturdays.

And she can keep on earning that allowance - the old fashioned way.

Work.

Tales from the pasture...

Monday - already?  Last week I had an extra day and a half off and boy did I enjoy that!  We won't talk about how it makes Monday that much more devastating to face (slam the alarm clock!)

I have a lot to fill you in on.

Last Monday was my daughter's first riding lesson.  Guys, she did awesome.  The trainer she is working with is simply amazing - a whisperer if you will.

My daughter had been extremely afraid after being thrown off Molly.  She wouldn't even touch a horse after that happened.  When Prissy Buns came to live in the pasture my little girl was still a nervous wreck. Though she did attempt to get back in the saddle she was overcome with fear. I'm not kidding when I say she was out just as quick as she was up.

Being her mom I'm somewhat (I think and hope) in tune with her and I could tell she wanted to ride.  There was the fear from having trusted an animal and it not-so-gently letting her down but there was also something in her actions around the same animal that said she wanted to do it.

She was just overcome by fear.

Last Monday I was nervous for my girl C. Lately I have noticed she is becoming less self confident and my mama heart was breaking.  Her excitement for the lesson was off the charts but in the back of my mind I worried she would panic and be in tears once she was faced with getting on the back of a horse again.

I didn't want my baby to be embarrassed.  I didn't want her to feel like she couldn't do this.

As moms we want to take sickness and pain from our babies.

We want to remove self doubt and raise them up as high as we can.

Too many times we think the cure is to surround them, coddle them, and give them no room of their own to try.  It isn't that we don't want them to try it is just that as moms we have a fear of their failure too.

Arriving at the ring we were surrounded by girls of all ages and all levels of riding.  I imagine for an eight year old girl who wants to ride so badly it was magical in a way; being surrounded by various horse breeds and girls who cold maneuver about with ease on these huge animals.

It was also overwhelming.

I could see the uneasiness building up in my girl.

Why couldn't I take it from her and give her all the self confidence she needs?

If you're not a mom then I'll let you in on a secret that will make you ever so successful anytime you deal with children for long periods of time.  Sometimes mamas need to ease away so that their kids can do their best.

I eased away.

While my girl was in the stable I was sitting out staring at an empty horse ring - saying little prayers that this would be a good experience.

To cut down on this post I want to share this with you -

There were tears.

There was fear.

There was shouting and crying.

Then there was a girl who told me a couple days before - "Mama I just want to be able to ride a horse and not be afraid," in the saddle - smiling, finally - and then out of the saddle and rubbing and talking to a horse that just a hour before she was shying away from.

On the way home the talking from the backseat was incessant.

That was so fun.  That horse is amazing!  Did you see me?  I cannot wait to go back.  I want to ride tomorrow.  Can you please ask if I can come back tomorrow?

We spend a lot of time worrying about our kids.  We want the school work to be perfect and their manners impeccable.  As moms we want their worlds to be without a crease, nick, or worry.  Our lives revolve around their lives.

But sometimes if we ease away a little bit - they do something amazing.

Raising a girl...Part 2

In January I posted the first part of this.  You can catch it here.

Raising a girl takes a tough cookie of a mama.  Well, when you have a strong-willed and occasionally bull-headed girl (hmmm where does she get that?)  I feel like since we entered second grade last fall things have really been shaken not stirred around here.

In my first post I talked about about I would look at her and see my sweet little girl had been replaced with someone who was 14 and not 18.  Her attitude changes and the way she totally shifted in how she talked and acted were huge compared to what my girl was just a year or so ago.

But it is part of growing up.

My daughter is eight years old and the other day I was reminded how a few years ago a mom friend said to me:  "Oh wait until they turn eight."

I never knew what she meant but now I get it.

Things change...attitude, personality, questions, feelings, toys, friends, everything.

So today in this post I want to write about my own fear of raising this eight year old kid.  I want to turn this totally on mama for a second.  Yes, I'll incorporate her back in but this is for mama.

I struggle with this question:

Will she hate me?

Look, I'm not a mom who is a big softy.  I yell, a lot.  I get frustrated, more than I should  I am not patient at 7pm on a week night.

I see all my parental flaws and after the lights go out for the night I'm staring at the ceiling saying to myself, "She hates me."

Personally, I had/have a good mom.  In all my childhood I did not ever hate my mom.  Yes, I may have been pissed off by her upteen million times because growing up you get pissed easily (no ice cream, no toy, no twenty dollars, no mall trip, no over priced junk you won't like in two weeks...) but I never hated her.

Let it be known I never remember her yelling or getting frustrated (with me) or having to watch her lose her patience.

Which I did not have a little brother around during those younger years.  I feel like that made a very big difference.  I was the one and only for 13.75 years of my life and I didn't have to share my mom's attention with another child when I was eight.  Mind you, she did have to give other things her attention like college but I was never pitted against another kid for attention.

And I think this makes a huge difference.

Will she hate me because she has a brother?

Ahhh another question I ask myself.  Will her brother be the link to hating me.  He is three and requires a bit more attention for some tasks.  I always incorporate her into assisting me with him or him on her own but is that translating to hating on me?

I would like to think not.  But sometimes when I get that precious moment of just she and I and I ask her I get a look.  A look that says, "You're really asking me this.  Don't you know?"

Meh.  I kinda know but not from an eight year old's standpoint.

Will she hate her brother?

My kids are close.  They actually entertain each other quite well right now.  People always are so shocked when they see how well they interact.  I get these strange compliments on them - I imagine it is "shock and awe!"  Really, who would have thought an eight year old and a three year old would be friends?

But sometimes I watch her interacting with him and I wonder if she resents him more than she should.

Or is it frustration that she cannot control?

Lately, I see her push him more over something so dare I say childish.  Of course the adult in me starts analyzing the reaction and the mama in me always feels guilt.

I'm not teaching her right.
I'm not doing this right.
My kid is going to hate me forever.
My kid is going to make her brother a member of fight club.

What can I do better?

I have prayed for patience.  I do not recommend praying for that because you will get your multitude of situations to "work on it" in.  Every day I think God gives me six new ways to test my patience.  It isn't humbling me right now...I'm afraid it is hardening me.

How many times to do moms say, How can I do this parenting thing better?

We could read every parenting book under the sun and note their redundancies and then google the authors to see how many live in an apartment in New York and have never been around a child for more than a five minute train ride.

We could converse with other mamas only to find out we're all doing the same thing and we all have the same struggles.

We could drink more wine!

Or maybe we could do something else....

Remind ourselves of the good stuff that is happening.  

Like opening my inbox to find an email from my daughter that says:

I loveeeeeeeeee youuuuuuuu mom! (with about five hundred emoticons behind it.)

Or sneaking in her room to get a cuddle before she officially falls asleep and going into a conversation about the number of necessary blankets to be cozy.

How about taking her to school and how quickly she says, I love you and starts blowing kisses before she puts her hand on the door latch.

That high five for the 100 she made on the math test.

The prayer you taught her to pray that night to remind herself how blessed she is even when she doesn't think she is.

The fact that she can drift to sleep holding your hand.  Realizing when you look at her sleeping face she's the same little baby that used to be propped up in the boppy with you late at night watching movies, intently staring you down because she was so enamored with you - every single thing about you.  Then realizing that though this period seems a little difficult you still see that look of wonderment at the strangest times when you notice she's watching you cook dinner, pay bills, drive the car, fold the laundry, or read a book.

She doesn't hate me.

Raising a Girl (Part 1)

My first child is a girl.  Ahhh I remember when I was expecting her...visions of pink, frilly dresses, pony tails, mommy and me days.  To say I was ecstatic would be the understatement of the century.  Little girls are just special and fun.  I like to think of those sweet baby girls as baby dolls came to life!  I had so much fun dressing her up and painting those tiny little toe nails.  She loved to be with mommy and she loved to help out in any way she thought best (including removing every pot, pan, dish, etc from the kitchen cabinets when I cooked.)

Yes, having a daughter is a complete and total joy.

Then they start to grow up.

Girls have a more fierce middle childhood than boys.  We just have to point the blame to hormones and biology.  In the last year my sweet little bundle of pink has morphed into a more difficult version of hot pink.  I can't dress her up in frilly dresses and painting those piggies is more of debacle than fun time.

She's caught in an awkward space and so is her mom.

At eight years old she's not a little tyke and she is not a teenager.  She is what the media has dubbed a "tween" - between the years of sweet littleness and preteen changes.  Her big blue eyes are often cutting me instead of loving me.  The boundaries are jumped over.

There are times when I feel like we shout at each other more than we calmly speak to one another.  There are also times when I feel like I'm banging my head against a brick and mortar wall.  I keep telling myself these are the moments that will shape our relationship when she is neck deep in the difficult changes that will begin all too soon.

I read countless articles about handling this delicate time in our lives.  Truth be told I feel like most are written by people who never even had a daughter.  I envision these authors being surrounded by cats or dogs and never having an actual human child to care for.

Truth be told...I feel quite alone.

It is true there have been times I feel like it is only my child who is bucking up against her parents and rules.  Look at social media and blogs!  They only portray the cookie cutter perfection of children and families.  Do people really want to see you going postal because of the perfect child still not listening to you?

I think they do.

I think moms and dads deserve to know they are not alone when it comes to the difficulties of growing a child.  They aren't screwing it all up and yes, everyone gets to their point of tears when raising children.

This year my daughter will be on the verge of entering a new phase of her life - puberty.  I remember it all too well.  I remember tears as my self evolved into something I was not ready for.  The thorny patches of going from child to young lady were a huge test on me twenty some years ago.  I personally live in a state of mild fear over what it is like in 2016.

So I'm going to be more alert this year about what is happening to our family's shape - I'm going to learn to bend more when the forceful winds of change blow through us and I'm going to work on the virtue of patience and showing more love and less yelling.

That also means this blog becomes a bit of a sounding board and mode of expression and asking for advice.  So many of you are seasoned in this life experience and I need your two cents.

Little girls are beautifully and wonderfully made - let's work to remember that as they enter new seasons and challenges - together.

Having a little girl.

2.21.13 Friday is nearing!  What do I care? HA!

Earlier in the week I posted bout my trying times with my five year old.  We instated the new schedule and it is working extremely well.  It didn't take too long to adapt to this schedule and as long as we don't go lax it should continue to be successful.  Yay!!!

This week has been a turning point for my big blue eyed girl.  Things have came to a head and a new phase has been entered.  It is bringing with it tears, confusion, and the feeling of inadequacy - not just for her but for her mom as well.

I don't feel completely horrible, detestable, or badly equipped for the challenges I have because all week I've been getting notes from God telling me I'm ok and better yet we're ok.  Every email, first tweet of the day I read, and what I have been hearing every time I cut on the television is someone saying -

"You have just what you need to be a good mama. Just keep moving forward and looking up."

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Hypersensitivity - not a fun idea if you really think about it.  Trust me it is not.  I've been doing a lot of research as I prepare for an upcoming doctor's appointment for my little princess.  Since she has been able to communicate effectively with adults she has expressed a huge desire to not be around anything loud - and when I say loud I do not mean cannons bursting or decibles on the heavy metal rock concert sound.  Minor raises in volume - even when she knows they are about to happen - send her into a whirlwind of emotion.  Yesterday this whirlwind hit Kansas tornado speed and she could not be consoled.

I felt bad as her teacher told me what had happened.  The kids were doing a music exercise and wre given balloons and they were going to pop them by stomping or sitting on them.  Sure balloons popping isn't my idea of a fun time but kids generally enjoy such things.  Well....not my kid.  As the balloons began popping she began the freak out of her life.  Holding her ears, sobbing, and asking for it to stop.  It was a culmination of school instruments being clanged and banged and balloons being popped and she was over the limit.

I felt bad because I didn't realize her sensitive ears were making this big of an impact.  If anyone should know shouldn't it be me ---- her mother?

No.  Here is why.  Our house is generally quiet.  Now, yes we have exceptions such as the baby screaming in anger because the bottle is not ready at the exact second his brain says - TIME TO EAT!  On a very rare occassion our dog will bark but he's a shihtzu so um I guess that doesn't count either.  The tv stays below 50 when it is on.  There is just no really loud noise in our home or around our home.

When she got in the car - still crying - I asked her if she was ok and her response was "Mommy sob) the sound (sob sob sob) hurts my (sob sob sob sob) ears."

I didn't know what to do!  I had no clue what to do!  Isn't it ironic how one of the blessings in this life - hearing, the ability to hear other people, animals, cars, trucks, music - can be a curse at times?

So I asked her if she needed some time in quiet to feel ok.  She said yes through the tears.  I asked if I could turn on the radio softly as we drove home.  She was silent.  I waited til we were half way home and slowly turned the volume of the radio up to what I deem "Grandma Level" and with every beat of the drum I heard a little sob in the backseat.

My heart broke.

She went to her room when we got home and pulled her books down and sat on her bed looking at them, wiping the remaining tears away.  After about thirty minutes she was ok.

Then I learned - that was the wrong thing to do.  When a child is hypersensitive to sound you shouldn't take sound away by placing them in quiet - you are just conditioning the auditory response to not grow stronger and drown out certain bothersome sounds.

I never thought I'd be that mom who had some different issue going on with her child.  We'll be going to the doctor to find out what we can do to help this issue to deterioriate.

I'll keep you posted.

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The tears didn't end there.  Another lesson was learned yesterday.  Every one of us females know this lesson.  It generally is taught around age five or six.  It is critical that you learn it so that you can cope throughout life.  I guess it is the first psychology lesson you get as human.

Or maybe sociology lesson?!

Once again I went to pick up my child from her Wednesday night church group.  She loves that group.  I think she wishes every day were either Wednesday or Thursday (dance night).  Every week she is so eager to learn her Bible verse and sing her song and she cannot wait to see Ms. Meta.

Last night was no different!  6:30 PM could not come quick enough. 

I dropped her off - it is amazing to watch the transformation of child as they leave your care and go into another person's care!  There is this amazing cloak that falls over that child that makes them suddenly so angelic and peaceful.  Raise their voices?  Never!  Defy you?  No way!  Always listen?  For the strangers yes.  Always mind their p's and q's?  You know it because they aren't mama!

When I returned to pick her up once again I was greeted with wet cheeks from tear filled eyes and sobs.  "Good grief more loud noise?" is what I thought.

No.  It was....a boy.

A missionary had came to talk to the kids and she just happened to be pregnant.  The children hosted a little "babyshower" for the mommy to be.  As is customary some food was served.  The food - cupcakes.  Pregnant women and children adore cupcakes so it was perfect! 

Little boys like to be little boys and that includes being a little on the gross side with food.  Some little fella beside my little blondie decided to show her what cupcake looks like during stage one of digestion - mastication.  So he opened his mouth up wide and showed her his mushy cupcake.  She told him to quit doing that.  That just egged him on - he is a boy! - and he decided to do the whole tongue stick out, kinda spit thing kids do.  (I could show you but putting it into words is kind of hard)....

Needless to say she took this act of being a little boy as a "He doesn't like me" gesture. 

So in the car we had that age old talk about how boys act.  They don't mean anything malice by it - its just how boys roll.  They think its funny to do gross things and sadly enough many of them continue that pattern of humor way past the tender age of 3, 4, 5 years and on past elementary school as well.  It is just the boy code.

And all you mamas will remember this comment:

If a boy likes you he's going to pick on you.

At five you just do not get it.

I think this is the beginning of the end of those critical years and the beginning of the worldly years.  No more is she covered by the umbrella of mommy and daddy.  Now she is rather wearing a poncho of all the things we've tried to instill in her to prepare and somewhat protect her from what life will rain down on her.

When we got home her daddy did a good job of having a talk to her about how awesome of a girl she is and how boys do gross things.  He also did a great job of lifting her little heart up.  I must admit I teared up at hearing him talk to her - I never had a dad that did that for me.

Oh the lessons we learn when we're the parent.

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Today will be less of a drama infused loud day but a good day.  I can feel it in my bones.  I hope your day or evening is too.

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Until we meet again -

Brownie