Simply Mother

I’m sad that this has even had to become a goal for me, because it means I’ve slipped dreadfully far into a type of parenting that I never wanted to enter. It’s not frequent, and I’ve apologized and explained that I don’t believe what I just said on the rare occasions that it has happened, but I know that is not good enough. Apologies don’t erase hurt feelings, or a damaged self-image.

I’m not hopeless, don’t get me wrong–we all make mistakes, it’s part of the plan, yadda yadda–I just feel myself slipping further into this cycle (again) and want to stop it before I get any deeper, or form a harmful habit.

Rationalizing

So what is it? I think I’m stalling because I’m so appalled that I have succumbed to this. So I’ll tell you how it started with a slight rationalization:

In the last year, we have witnessed many, many instances of parent’s calling their children names, and consequently, their children calling each other those same names.

At first we were all really struck by this. My kids had never experienced name-calling, and actually appeared quite confused by it the first few times. They didn’t even know the meaning of the words “stupid” and “mean” (the two most common attacks).

But slowly those words, and worse, an understanding of the way the phrases are used to “win” a disagreement, crept their way into their lives. Again, not often, but sometimes going from “never” to “rarely” can be quite a step.

Missed Opportunity to Lead

Now, as the adult, the mother, I should have been the one to lead them back out of this mindset. And we did have lots of conversations about these new conceptions (“What does mean even mean?” “How do we know someone is mean?” “Are they really mean? Or are they really needing something and not knowing how to get it, or perhaps just acting normally for their age?” “Is ANYONE really just mean?”)

But, sadly, on occasion I have turned all of this great pondering upside down by employing this tactic myself!

The Goal

Hence, my new goal: Never label (directly or by sly insinuation) my child “mean” again. Or any other negative judgment, for that matter, but I think this is the only one I’ve used.

And boy! I understand why parents use it! It really works!

“It works” isn’t all that matters

Not the kind of “work” that I truly want, of course, but it’s definitely a label Sarah does NOT want to be associated with. Whereas she was previously unwilling to talk about what she was doing to bother her sister (or why, or what she needed, and what she could do instead), suddenly faced with the threat of being thought of by her mother as mean, she became all sorts of willing.

And boy can she explain! I don’t realize how much I talk (way too much) until my kids start rehearsing it back to me, in the form of a lecture.

“I’m not mean.”

“Then why do you sometimes do things that you know will hurt or bother people?” (Which, I realized as I said that, is exactly what I just did when I called her mean!)

“Maybe sometimes I want her attention. Or I’m sad or angry and I don’t know what else to do. Maybe I just wanted to do the thing and Jade didn’t want me to, but I still wanted to do it.”

Exactly. I know this. I taught it to you, girl!

So what is the matter with me? Why do I get the urge (and at least twice now, not fight hard enough to resist it) to call her mean, when I KNOW I don’t believe it, and in fact, I KNOW I’ll regret it AS I’m saying it?

Not to mention the fact that I can vividly remember being called mean as a child. In fact, I internalized this judgment about myself deeply, even though on some level I never believed it–probably because I didn’t FEEL mean. (I felt angry, sure. And sad. Extremely frustrated, helpless and misunderstood. But I didn’t ever do anything simply because I was just a mean child.)

(All evidence to the contrary.)

I don’t blame the adults who believed this about me, or even who used the attack against me in the same way I’ve done.

Because, see, now I understand. I really understand. How it is possible to do, sometimes over and over again, things we KNOW are wrong. Things we know, with first-hand experience, just how hurtful and damaging they can be.

I’ve been reflecting on what went on in my mind the last time this happened and it boils down to this:

Judging.

There’s a reason we are told not to judge. Probably several. (This gets kinda scripture-heavy, so bare with me for a moment if you’re unfamiliar with LDS theology. Or just skip over the list entirely if you’re one for whom religious talk makes you uneasy–and just get right to the part where I describe the scenario that started this.)

Why We Shouldn’t Judge

1. It doesn’t get us anywhere with the other person. In fact, as soon as judgments start flying, unless the receiver is exceptionally humble or able to perceive the underlying hurts in the other person that are leading to the attack (which most adults are not very good at), it pretty effectively puts an end to any further constructive conversation.
2. There’s only One who can really be a perfect judge. Only One who truly knows all the thoughts and intents of our hearts, all our limitations in understanding and ability, and all the myriad variables that effect each choice we make. (Yes, in some instances, He can inspire His children to pronounce His judgments, such as when this is the responsibility of a bishop, and perhaps it happens in parenting as well, but that’s not what was going on here. There was no being moved upon by the Spirit, and that is obvious from what resulted.)
3. We can’t handle that much power. Even if we could be perfect judges–and don’t we always think we are?–but even if our judgment would be right, we humans just are not ready for the kind of power that making such a judgment entails. Isn’t there a scripture here too?
   

   We have learned by sad experience that it is the nature and disposition of almost all men, as soon as they get a little authority, as they suppose (emphasis mine, I love that part), they will immediately begin to exercise unrighteous dominion. D&C 121:39

   Thinking ourselves worthy or even capable of judging others definetly puts us in a position of “supposing” we have a little authority, don’t you agree?

Setting the Stage

The results speak for themselves. Here’s the scenario that triggered my reflection on this. Sarah was singing loudly in, what looked to me like a deliberate attempt to bother Jade.

There’s my first judgment already, and probably not completely accurate. She may have just been wanting to get Jade’s attention. Or possibly she was upset that Jade wasn’t very happy with her for something that had happened previously, and didn’t know how to go about restoring their usual amiable connection, and so resorted to this less-than-effective strategy.

Anyway, Jade was bothered, which she was making obvious by squealing, loudly.

At that moment, I believed there was no way Sarah couldn’t know she was bothering Jade (I still think that’s true, but still, another judgment), and for various reasons, I wasn’t able to put myself in Sarah’s shoes and try to understand what might be going on for her. I’m usually fairly good at doing this, if only because it’s become a habit, but this time, possibly because it was so noisy and I was feeling bothered by the whole thing, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Lack of understanding leads to judging

So, I didn’t understand. Not really a mistake, I can’t be expected to understand all of my children’s behaviors. But. Instead of seeking to understand, either in my own mind, or by asking her directly, I judged. Since I couldn’t think, at that moment, why she might keep doing something that was clearly bothering someone else, I judged her as “just being mean”.

And I have found that as soon as I make a judgment like this in my mind, it is almost impossible for me to let it go without speaking it. (I need to learn to at least go speak it away from my child, by telling my husband, or calling a friend, or saying a prayer.) I recall that I tried to push the urge to inflict this judgment on Sarah away for a few moments but was unsuccessful.

The Result

And so it was that my little five-year-old did a typical five-year-old thing, and was labeled “mean” by her mother.

Luckily children are incredibly humble, so it didn’t lead to total a breakdown of conversation. With a few innocent words, my little one was able to compel me to be humble, and remember what I already knew.

I apologized and, in the typical wonder that is childlike goodness, she forgave me, hugged me, and happily went on to play with Jade, leaving me to sit and ponder on how quickly my behavior can deteriorate, and wonder when I am ever going to consistently act on all the things I know!

[By the way, I wrote this months ago (in between setting various old blogs on fire) and am only sharing it now because so far? I have succeeded in keeping my goal, to the point where it is hardly even a temptation anymore for me to label my kids "mean". At least, not out loud. Still working on consistently starting with understanding, compassionate thoughts all the time. But anyway, I attribute this small triumph largely to the therapeutic process of writing all this out.]

Filed in: parenting • self-reflection • spiritual | February 8, 2009