Here’s an article I love: Can These Parents Be Saved?, by Nancy Gibbs. I love the movement that it represents — the one that supports free-play over homework, letting kids experience failure, and not treating parenting like yet another form of product development.
I love it, because it feels right to me somehow — I mean, really, haven’t babies managed to survive crawling without kneepads throughout most of human history? Should I really be correcting my kid’s homework so that it’s 100% perfect before it goes to the teacher, or is there some actual value in her experiencing a red “X” on the work she does? Do we really believe that if our child doesn’t make figurative drawings by age 3 that this somehow affects their employment potential at age 30?
There’s also some part of me that feels let off the hook. The truth: I don’t want to do flashcards. I don’t want to fight over homework. I don’t want to spend my one precious life in the car, ferrying other people, even my beloved girls, from one enriching activity to another. I don’t want to live in fear that if I accidentally missed Merrie’s first-ever dive off the high diving board (and I did), that I have failed her on some deep and profound level, the results of which will show up in her eventual incarceration, or perhaps her failure to get into an Ivy League college in the year 2020, which is just as bad.
I love my daughters, I love them dizzily/madly/gleefully. But even if I could mold them into some model of perfection (and I’ve long since given up on that), are they better off for my efforts to mold them? Or might they be better off with a mother that sometimes just did her own thing…while letting them do theirs? Perhaps I am just rationalizing my own selfishness here, but I can’t help but feel like one of the best gifts I can give them is to show them by the way I live my life the value of learning/doing/trying. And to do that, I have to reserve some of my own life to learn/do/try — not just as a parent, but as a person.
It also means letting them go, being willing to let them skin their knees and lose a game and take a risk, even when the outcome isn’t assured.
It’s never an easy balance, this parenting gig. Never. Kids need help, they need support, they need guidance, they need us. They’re children after all. But there is a line in there somewhere — the fine and sometimes invisible line between helping and hovering — that perhaps we shouldn’t cross, for their sake as much as for our own. These kids are going to make their way in this world without us — so soon, they will do this, so much sooner than we know — and they maybe could use some practice with this, with living with the consquences of their own choices.
If there is an irony in this article, it is this: there are now “slow parenting” classes and simplicity coaches, who will “go into your home, weed out your kids’ stuff, sort out their schedule, turn off the screens and help your family find space you didn’t know you had…” There are books and T-shirts that you can purchase in the name of free-range parenting, workshops that you can sign up for, web sites you can spend your life exploring.
(And, ahem, blog posts you can spend time writing, and TIME articles you can spend time reading).
All, of course, in the pursuit of overparenting less.
But with that irony noted, here’s something hopeful from the article: a TIME poll asked how the recession had affected parents’ relationships with their kids; nearly four times as many people said relationships had gotten better since the recession, as said the relationships had gotten worse. Maybe this is because we, out of necessity, started saying “no,” stopped signing them up for classes they didn’t especially want or need, and just sort of let them experience the world.
I have no illusions that I’m doing this parenting thing correctly (whatever “correctly” means). My kids will hold things against me someday, perhaps even big things (it’s a rare adult that doesn’t hold big things against his/her own parents, after all). Mistakes? I make them; my biggest ones are surely the ones I can’t even recognize.
Parenting is like reading Braille when you’ve never learned it, like trying to put together an IKEA bookshelf using only the Swedish directions, and with no picture at all of what the final product should look like. It is messy, frustrating, worrisome business. But perhaps, if we worry a bit less, we can enjoy it a bit more. And if we should wind up with the spare nut or screw or washer that just doesn’t seem to fit anywhere, or if one of the shelves tilts heavily to the wrong side, maybe this is okay. Look at that bookshelf! It’s so quirky and unlike all the other bookshelves!
Or maybe, if we just step back for a moment, we might even discover that our IKEA bookshelf actually knows how to build itself.
If you’ve got parenting wisdom, or anxieties, please feel free to share. Or not; perhaps we can just let the kids play by themselves for a while, and we can talk about something else entirely. Like, um, read any good adult books lately?
Well said. I am constantly trying to find that line to walk where I’m supporting, not doing everything for her. Encouraging, but not falsely… It’s hard (as if you didn’t already say that). And I don’t want to spend my entire life obsessing about every single little thing she does or doesn’t do and how and when and if it was in accordance with what a book/a teacher/a late 19th century Austrian philosopher says. (certain moms I know, I’m looking at you). Isn’t balance more important? Isn’t joy more important? Unfortunately, being in the middle, I think you get it from both sides about what you are doing wrong.
Oh Ali, you’re a woman after my own heart. I have two children and I’m also a teacher. At the school we cannot let children take physical risks anymore, because they don’t know how to do basic things, like pump their legs on the swings, jump rope, do monkey bars. It saddens me.
Perhaps Kim John Payne (author of “Simplicity Parenting”) says it best when he talks about parents having to choose between seeing childhood as an enrichment opportunity or an unfolding experience. I’m firmly in the latter camp, and my kids show me when they get too stressed.
I believe letting kids be IS good parenting. Because otherwise how are they going to learn to trust themselves and know where their limits are? I’m always delighted when a child tells me what they’re good at and what they’re really terrible at. When we constantly enrich our children, we send them the message that they’re not good enough and we need to do all these things to perfect them. What a burden to live with!
Okay, hopping off my soapbox now. Thanks for having the courage to tackle this discussion!
Great post! I’m so in this camp lately as I’m starting to feel the pressure to put my (just turned) 4 year old in some sort of classes or sports (above and beyond preschool). It’s starts to feel like you are falling behind if you don’t jump on that bandwagon. This is great though.
Ali, you’ll love Lenore’s Free Range Blog.
Oh, Ali! How is it possible that you managed to crawl inside my head and pull out EXACTLY what I’ve been worrying/obsessing/agognizing over this past month? I’ve been trying to figure out “the fine and sometimes invisible line between helping and hovering.” And I’m so happy to now know that I’m not the only one! It’s true, we all need to slow down and remember that our children (and frankly, adults too) LEARN BY MAKING MISTAKES! If the goal is to be perfectly perfect right out of the gate, we’re doomed to fail (which is what we’re anxiously trying to avoid–oh the irony of it all!).
Thank you for, once again, putting words to what turns out to be a universal experience. We parents need to share more, and worry less. We’re all just fine. (And our kids will be just fine, too!)
Good to know that I am a “slow” parent
In the words of the great Pete Townsend – “The kids are alright”
Have you read The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society? I almost didn’t pick it up because I thought the title was silly. So glad I did- it’s delightful and well written. Perfect book for a super rainy Friday when you just want to hunker down in front of the fire with a good book.
Great post. I homeschool my kids and although I sometimes worry that I’m not doing “enough” (latin! when do I do latin!), other times I listen to those “older” homeschooling moms who tell me to RELAX and let them learn at their own pace. They are like my sage guides who have walked this path before and know it is not a sprint to see whose kid can do long division first.
Sometimes relaxing and letting things go is better than anything else we could do. Thanks for writing this. Good to remember.
Excellent.
I struggle to not overparent (but find I can easily slip into the pack mentality).
Over the summer our 8 year old daughter wanted to visit the park at our weekend place alone with her friend (one block away). We let her go but I worried myself into a tizzy. She, on the other hand, did great. She had fun and returned when it started to get dark on her own. Giving her that freedom has done wonders for her. AND me.
Bravo! Thanks for putting it down in such an eloquent way. I will be directing some friends this way to read your insightful words. It is hard, but I think totally worth it. Thank you for giving me a little more courage.
A couple of weeks ago one of my four-year-olds went to the end of our (very, very long) driveway to wait for his brother’s bus–I was busy doing something else and didn’t quite realize what he was doing until the other four-year-old and I were ready to walk to the bus. As we hurried along I was worried, not that he would run in the road and get hit by a car or that he would get snatched by a kidnapper, but rather that a nosy neighbor would see him there by himself and come to my house to bawl me out.
I love this post about combining writing and kids that fits right in with this whole “free-range” philosophy: http://christinabakerkline.wordpress.com/2009/11/11/guest-blog-louise-desalvo-on-why-having-kids-is-no-excuse/
I’ve written about the IKEA bookshelves before and, let me tell you, mine are a little out of whack. Delightful but out of whack nonetheless.
Parenting is like gardening. You plant the seed in the highest quality soil you can afford/find/make, and then you water it and fertilize it when you’re able — taking care not to overwater or overfertilize. But you can’t control the rain and you can’t control the sun and you can’t control the climate and you can’t control the insects. You just compensate for those things as best you can.
The trick is knowing what to compensate for, don’t you think?
I am so glad you are still blogging! I have missed your posts like this!
This is one of the many reasons I love your blog
On this Saturday morning, I’m on the computer with my son’s pilot helmet on playing with him (age 3) while reading and daughter’s (age 8) making a special barbie house in her closet… it’s 8:30am & we are free to do as we like on this Saturday, no rushing to this or that to “enrich” them.
I do my best not to schedule anything for weeknights, our Brownie troop meetings are Sat 3pm. I host (nothing structured, just free play) as many playdates as possible & it’s amazing how many little girls can’t get any free time “scheduled” to come over and play ??? What’s wrong with this picture? I think sports are great for a girls self-esteem & we’ll be doing more in the future but, for now, it’s a slow free play life
I get alot of “what! you’re not signing her up to dance!” and “you mean you don’t correct her homework!” and “what do you mean she’s not allowed on the computer?” and “you’re not signing your son up for preschool?”. My style of parenting isn’t popular but my life is certainly less stressful without the “supermom” badge on my arm because I drove my kids “over 2000 miles to activities this month!” as a friend said to me yesterday of her kids.
I recently cut out and gave to my friend who spends hours helping her son with homework called “I Do Housework, Not Homework!”.
I guess if I label myself as a “Free Range Parent” my parenting style will be deemed more acceptable ;o)
Ali: First, I LOVE your writing. Love, love, love. You have such a wonderful ability to convey a whole world of meaning with a few well chosen details. For example,
“Parenting is like reading Braille when you’ve never learned it, like trying to put together an IKEA bookshelf using only the Swedish directions, and with no picture at all of what the final product should look like.”
Awesome. Just awesome. Both in the kid sense of the word (as in ‘really cool’) and in the official sense of the word, inspiring awe with your skill at painting a word picture that captures my reality so accurately. Your honesty and your sense of humor shine through your words, and I have to admit, I like your mindset, too! Thank you for sharing your thoughts.
A couple of thoughts to share with you: You mention the idea of ‘being willing to let them skin their knees.” That made me think of the book, “The Blessing Of A Skinned Knee: Using Jewish Teachings to Raise Self-Reliant Children.” (link: http://www.amazon.com/Blessing-Skinned-Knee-Teachings-Self-Reliant/dp/1416593063/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1260383024&sr=8-1) Do you know it? The author is a clinical psychologist who was frustrated at her lack of success in finding lasting fixes for the children and parents she counseled. Even though she uses Jewish traditions to uncover her core values, I think her book would be useful to families from all different faiths, or anyone who approaches parenting the way you do. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to lend you my copy.
You talk about whether or not you should be correcting your kids’ homework. For me, the answer to this question is an unequivocal NO. The whole point of homework is for kids to learn from it. If I correct it before the teacher sees it, the teacher can’t judge accurately what my child has learned, and where she needs help. For me to correct the homework, I believe, would defeat much of the (limited) benefit of doing the homework in the first place! This is not to say that I won’t help my child with her homework. I will help her figure out HOW to do it, but try never do the work for her (except for safety issues, like needing to use an exacto knife to cut materials for constructing her Roman House), or tell her the answer. Hope this doesn’t come across as preachy, but this is what makes sense to me.
Wanted to write more, but kids have just come in from playing in the snow, and require dry clothes and immediate administration of hot cocoa. Snow days!
Awesome post, Ali! I completely agree…