Being a parent... No. Being a GOOD parent means that you have to say NO on occasion. It might even mean saying "NO" quite often...several times a day...to several kids (as in our case) for a variety of reasons. The challenge is to say "NO" with a certain amount of confidence, to do it in a nice way, somehow appear to be positive and to not worry about the fallout. Sometimes it is for something that seems very insignificant. Other times, it is more important. As your children get older, the "NO's" are less frequent but the stakes get higher and for me, it becomes harder to draw the line.
I don't have deep thoughts about all of this other than to mention that this is something that kind of gets me down. My job as a parent is not to be popular, but I wouldn't mind if once in a while I would hear..."Thanks Mom, for saying NO. I know that you love me and you are trying to help me make good decisions." It just ain't going to happen. Not now, anyway. I will (however) say... that having older (more mature) children helps in this area. The "thank yous" are more frequent and heartfelt. It also makes me want to say "thanks" to my own parents (again) for hangin' in there with me and weathering those storms with me when I was growing up.
A few years ago, a friend of mine shared this reading with me. It came at a time when I was pretty discouraged about my parenting skills, etc... It was then, and still is a very encouraging piece. I pull it out every once in a while. Parenting is a marathon and there are no guarantees. Saying NO is certainly part of that process. It is more important to know that I did the right thing than to be the coolest parent in town, right?? I have to keep telling myself that!!
Disclaimer: This piece refers to the teenage years. It in no way is a reflection on the teenagers in my own house. We have (and have had) both "cats and dogs" running around our house for many years. It comes and it goes. (I guess I might even say that I am more of a "cat" than a "dog" on certain days!)
THE CAT YEARS
San Francisco Chronicle
Adair Lara
I just realized that while children are dogs - loyal and affectionate - teenagers are cats. It's so easy to be a dog owner. You feet it, train it, and boss it around. It puts its head on your knee and gazes at you as if you were a Rembrandt painting. It bounds indoors with enthusiasm when you call it.
Then, around age 13, your adoring little puppy turns into a big old cat. When you tell it to come inside, it looks amazed, as if wondering who died and made you emperor. Instead of dogging your foot steps, it disappears. You won't see it again until it gets hungry - then it pauses on its nose up at whatever you're serving. When you reach out to ruffle its head, in that old affectionate gesture, it twists away from you, then gives you a blank stare, as if trying to remember where it has seen you before.
You not realizing that the dog is now a cat, think something must be desperately wrong with it. It seems so antisocial, so distant, sort of depressed. It won't go on family outings.
Since you're the one who raised it taught it to fetch and stay and sit on command, you assume that you did something wrong. Flooded with guilt and fear, you redouble your efforts to make your pet behave.
Only now you're dealing with a cat, so everything that worked before now produces the opposite of the desired result. Call it, and it runs away. Tell it to sit, and it jumps on the counter, the more you go toward it, wringing your hands, the more it moves away.
Instead of continuing to act like a dog owner, you can learn to behave like a cat owner. Put a dish of food near the door, and let it come to you. But remember that a cat needs your help and your affection too. Sit still, and it will come seeking that warm, comforting lap it has not entirely forgotten. Be there to open the door for it.
One day, your grown-up child will walk into the kitchen; give you a big kiss and say, "You've been on your feet all day. Let me get those dishes for you." Then you'll realize your cat is a dog again.
