Developing Empathy

Millie writes:

From the time your six-month-old takes offers you a bite of her drool-covered teething biscuit, you are in a unique position to teach your child that most civilized of human characteristics: Empathy.

Empathy is easy to define: it is the ability to understand and share other people's feelings, to put yourself in the other guy's shoes. Unfortunately, many people grow to adulthood without ever having mastered this technique – you can identify them easily on the freeway during rush hour.

Its rarity notwithstanding, empathy is actually pretty easy to teach. You do it when you take a bite of a cookie and then offer a bite to your baby. You do it when your baby offers you that drooly cookie in return and you say, “Ohhh, THANK you!” and take a “bite.”When your child sees you stopping to help your elderly neighbor carry in her groceries, you are teaching empathy by example. You teach it when you teach sharing, not by snatching a child's toys away and saying, “It's your sister's turn now” but by asking, “Do you think your sister wants to play?”

A child will learn empathy quickly if you make a point of using it yourself. It's easy to lose your temper at people who treat you rudely; however, if your child hears you muse, “That man in the library must have been very upset to talk to the librarian like that. What do you suppose made him feel so bad?” then your child will begin to try to see other people's behavior as a result of their individual feelings and motivations, instead of as a reflection on his.

This is an important developmental step, because young children think that the world revolves around them and that everyone is always watching. The realization that everyone else is wrapped up in their own little worlds too is one that many people don't come to until their late teens – if, indeed, they ever do. A child who realizes that everyone has a unique perspective is a child who won't take power-crazy teachers or playground bullies personally.

It is possible to overdo things; that childish self-centric view of the universe can lead a kid to think that every homeless beggar, every one-eared stray cat and all air pollution is a direct result of them not caring enough. You know your child better than anyone, so use a light touch if you think they have an overactive guilt gland; empathy is one thing, but a 3-year-old sobbing, “Now all the tigers will be thirsty because of me!” because Sesame Street taught her that people wasting water will ruin the planet – that's going overboard.

Children who learn empathy grow into kind people. I am proud to say that Red, age 5, sent six months' worth of saved-up allowance (about $5, all the money he had in the world) to a local charity that provides meals for the homeless. He had been saving it to buy Christmas presents but he heard a fund-raising radio commercial for this charity and wanted to contribute.

Two days ago, Sassy – almost 17 and gorgeous – had a foot cut off her waist-length golden mane and sent the hair to Locks of Love. A friend in middle school had inspired her, and she “wanted to send it somewhere it could do some good, not just toss it in the trash.” Believe me, greater love hath NO teenage girl, than that she will chop off all her hair and donate it to make wigs for children who are bald from cancer treatments.

I think my work here is done.

(By the way, if you want to donate hair to Locks of Love, go to: http://www.locksoflove.org/

The Fine Art of Packing

Mollie writes:

Having achieved the ripe old age of 58, I can look back and count multiple times I've had to pack. I packed up a few times when I was a single woman, moving from one apartment to another, packed for a trip to Hawaii, packed again when John and I married, packed for our months long stay in Europe, packed for camping trips, sailing trips, ad nauseam.

Packing for myself was a breeze when I was young and unmarried. Imagine having a suitcase and carry-on for one's self only.

Every time I've packed since, I've had to repeatedly ask my self, "What do we need" "What can we do without, and what, if any, luxuries we should take with us."

I think the most challenging packing I've done is when we took the kids to Europe for three months (two months in Switzerland, two weeks in France, Easter in Salzburg and a week in Boston. I was packing for myself, Peter and Roger - I let John pack for himself! He needed two of the four suitcases we were allowed, he needed work clothes (suits & ties) as well as leisure clothes. He also had to bring a swarm of paperwork as we didn't have cd's floppies, laptops and the like in those days. It turned out that with four suitcases and four carry-ons, luxuries were just that, luxuries. We did with only absolute necessities.

Pete was just four years old and growing like a weed. Roger was 20 months old, still in diapers, and also growing like a weed. Roger was taking a Phenobarbital elixir for febrile seizure prevention (he'd had a lulu of repeated seizure activity when he was 10 months old). AND he was still in diapers!

Taking a look at our needs, we decided that we should bring a minimum of clothing - I figured I could find a laundromat where I could keep up with our washing. I converted from cloth diapers to disposable diapers, packed up a bunch of medication for colds, flu, and pain, a medication spoon, and the other accoutrements of basic parenting. We packed some toys, books, cassettes and cassette players with the regulation adaptors for Switzerland and France and Austria On the day we left, we each took charge of a child and slung carry-ons over our shoulders and made our merry way to 'Yurp.

We actually packed quite well, but not well enough. We ended up buying more clothes for the kids because they had the nerve to grow while we were gone. We ended up borrowing toys from friends in Switzerland when the few we packed just didn't cut it. We were amazed how expensive toys were in Europe, as well as children's clothes. My days of buying $.99 pants at K-Mart were still in the future.

When it came to deciding what to include in the carry-on versus checked luggage, we found it was a no brainer. Into the carry-ons went some of the toys and all the drugs, diapers, and sippy cups. Diaper wipes were in abundance, as were earplugs and security objects (blankies and the like). Even though we'd packed our carry-ons conservatively, we still looked like a pioneer family as we ventured off into the unknown.

Well, a Mollie can't pack too many diapers, as this Mollie learned on the flight over the Atlantic. Apparently there was another family who didn't pack diapers, assuming that disposables would be available on the plane. When we finally landed in Zurich, I found we had only three diapers left. It was a Sunday, and in Switzerland in 1986, all stores were closed on Sundays. Fortunately, we had friends in Switzerland who helped up scrounge up a dozen more diapers before the stores opened again on Monday. I have no idea how that other family coped once the plane landed!

In the end, I used up the Acetaminophen, cold medicine, diapers and Phenobarbital. Old clothes for the kids were replaced by a few new items, and Mom and Dad bought precious few souvenirs. But we had rolls and rolls of film that packed quite nicely in the carry-ons on the way home. That was enough.

So now we are packing for another trip to Europe this spring. We no longer have to worry over diapers and phenobarb. These concerns are replaced with the medications I bring for MS and other medical issues John and I have. I'm charging my DVD player and taking it on the plane with me, as well as my Kindle. I'm figuring out how much we can do without in the carry-ons, which really isn't a problem as you can carry-on very little these days. And with no pre-schoolers in tow, we actually have to pack things to amuse ourselves!

I've learned how to multi-task with the basics. I pack only black and brown clothes with a few scarves for color. I keep my cosmetics at a minimum since I don't pack 'em in the carry-ons, and packing things that spill, leak, ooze and seep seems futile anyway. I pack comfortable shoes so I can tromp anywhere I want, and I pack letters from my physicians to justify the small pharmacy we carry with us.

Packing for any trip can be a challenge, be it camping, sailing, touring or moving. But with the struggle comes the ultimate reality: what do we really need and what's a luxury. It turned out all we really needed were drugs, diapers, film, camera, and, of course, each other.

,

Let's Play Nicely!

Mollie writes:

All the startling commentary coming out these days concerns how we should express ourselves when disagreeing with others. Yes, each of us has the freedom of speech, but we keep forgetting that with that freedom comes the responsibility to be civil. It's just that easy.

Civility starts in the home, frankly. It begins with how parents communicate with each other and continues with how they communicate with their children. Our children learn, from us, how to respect their friends' opinions, their parents' directives, their own social responsibilities and all other social behaaviors. It's no surprise that polite children come from homes where the language of kindness and common courtesy is spoken. It's just that easy.

We've discussed bullying here, and certainly, "mean-mouthing" others is a crushing form of bullying. Discussing personal information about others simply has no real place in humane conversation. Spreading rumors, promoting intolerance, and just simple ridicule is a form of abuse that we have to curb. It's just that easy.

Calling people names has no place in civil discourse. Children who hear parents dehumanizinng others learn that other people's humanity is questionable. Calling a person an idiot, stupid, lazy, or any other of a number of names does not promote civil discourse. Instead, it deflects the importance of a particular issue and replaces it with anger and hostility. In no way does it encourging common ground, instead it widens the gulfs that exist between people. It's just that easy.

Simply because one person does not share your spiritual perspective does not mean that they will burn in hell for eternity. Confusing children about salvation while advocating damnation for others simply doesn't make sense. Teaching a child that another is a second class citizen because they don't worship defies explanation. Faith should be a gift, but lack of faith shouldn't be a curse. It's just that easy.

And violent talk? When was a difficult issue resolved with a spank, punch, shot or other act of violence? Representing problem resolution with acts of violence rather than civil discourse simply exacerbates hostility. Leave the crosshairs at the shooting range. It's just that easy.

When your children disagree, you have to respect all arguements, not just the ones you are comfortable with. Some kids worry about their weight, others worry about their grades, some fuss over both and some are oblivious to either. But one truth holds true: Children who learn to tolerate and love fair much better in life than children who learn to hold others in contempt. It's just that easy.

When disagreeing in the home, set some ground rules. No name calling. No God-referencing. No lying, no exaggeration. And, please, no threats. If one child is annoyed by another child's thoughts, behavior, talents, moods, clothes, etc. encourge them to discuss it. But keep your kids on topic and you'll find that problem resolution is much easier.

I've made my share of mistakes, we all do. But if we keep our eyes on maintaining the other's self respect while offering your take on things, life for all of us will more peaceful.

It's just that easy.

Last Will and Testament

Maggie writes:

Death is a fact of life. While I plan on spending eternity in Heaven, the people we leave behind will need to be taken care of. As a parent, it is my responsibility to try to take care of my children, even when I am no longer here. Which is where wills come into play.

No one will love your children the way you do. Picking a couple you know love your children and espouse your beliefs can be difficult. How do you go about choosing the "right" care takers? What if the people you choose aren't in your family? How do you broach the subject with your second choice, especially if your first choice isn't family and your second is?

I don't have all the answers, and would LOVE to hear what Mollie, Millie and May have to say on the subject! I do, however, have some suggestions.

Pray. Going about giving your most precious possessions all willy nilly is not a great idea--THAT much I know. Seeking God's guidance on all directions in life is important, and this is definitely not an exception.

Search. In an ideal situation, you'd find somebody in your family that loves your children nearly as much as you do AND would raise them in a similar fashion. Not all families are so fortunate, however. Many people would rather not have anything to do with their families, let alone leave their children to them! Ya can't choose family--but friends are an entirely different matter. Friends are the family you choose. Frankly, you can be closer to friends than family. And that's okay!

Prepare. Term life insurance is both practical and affordable. Making sure that your children (especially if you have more than most..) won't be a financial burden is important. You want to make things as easy as possible during this time of emotional upheaval. Throwing financial worries on top of everything is irresponsible and cruel.

And here's where I'm at a loss. How does one broach the subject to the second choice? You can't say "You're not my first choice, but if something should happen to them, can you take the kids?" How do you avoid hurt feelings and offense? Help!

Millie writes:

Maggie, I can't over-emphasize how important I think this is. Making out a Will when you're young and healthy (or not-so-young and beginning to creak) can make people feel like they're asking for trouble and I agree, it can be an emotional minefield. However, it's the only way to make sure that your kids land where you want them to land in the event of your death.

When Lance and I made our wills the situation was further complicated by step-relationships, ex-spouses and about a thousand relatives whose feelings we could potentially hurt by not leaving the kids "to them." One thing you can do in that case is to appoint your current spouse as the executor of your will and name them to manage your child's monetary inheritance until the child comes of age - in this way they will have a legal right to stay in the child's life, even if the Ex wants to edge them out. (Fortunately, this is not a problem we expect to have.)

We adopted a "team approach" insofar as the physical guardian goes. We asked a young, healthy, energetic couple who love our minor kids and have the same child-rearing philosophy as ours and who are already involved in our kids' everyday lives. Once they'd accepted, we talked to grandparents, aunts and uncles, and friends to tell them what we'd decided. We asked them, in the even of our deaths, to rally around and support our kids in their already-important roles as grandparents, aunts and uncles, and friends - and to make a special effort to watch over them and help them with the things they'd need to know as they grew up. It's sort of a "godparent" arrangement.

One other thing you can do is to include letters along with your wills, telling your executors and your kids things that don't necessarily belong in the legal document. Give your ideas about milestones such as dating ages, family traditions and who you'd like to receive your pearl pin on their wedding day. This is also the place for you to write down as much as you know about your family's medical history.

Making these decisions isn't easy, but it's necessary. This is one of the biggest gifts you will ever give your children, even though you hope they will never need it.

Mollie adds: AMEN!

How to Talk to Your Child About Tragedy

Millie writes:

Even if you were somehow able to raise your child in a protective bubble – a very tempting concept at times – tragedy would find you. Whether it's a natural disaster such as a flood or a societal disaster such as the recent shooting in Arizona, something worrisome is going to happen sooner or later; and it will be up to you to talk to your child about it.

First of all, do talk to him. You will have to edit specifics according to the child's age and development, of course, but it's a mistake to think that your kid doesn't know that something is up. Children are very sensitive to atmosphere and they hear everything that goes on. He may not know exactly what has happened but he will feel the tension around him – and odds are good that he will overhear part of the story at school, at church, or standing in line at the library.

You want him to hear it from you.

Your child will be scared and bewildered and curious. Establish physical contact, if you can; pull him into your lap, set next to him on the couch or hold his hand. Even a “cool and detached” teenager will feel better for a squeeze on the shoulder or a quick hug. Tell him what happened as succinctly as possible, without trying to put any sort of “spin” on it. For example, you could tell a six-year-old child about the Arizona shootings thus: “Honey, you might hear about this at school today, so I wanted to tell you something I heard on the news. Somebody got very confused and angry in Arizona, and he shot some people. Grown-ups are upset and a lot of people are talking about it, so I wanted you to know what happened.”

Then there will probably be questions. Curiously, they will be the same questions you have at times like this – only difference is, there's no one who can reassure you, is there? This is one of those parenting moments when you will need to pull on your Big Kid Underpants and reassure your child even when you're still scared half to death. Don't lie, but don't let them know that you're lost, too – under 21 is too young to understand that.

“Is it going to happen here?” You may think that a shooting in Arizona – if you live in Maine – or a flood in Haiti – if you live in Canada – would not seem like an imminent threat. A child sees the world with a much greater sense of urgency, however, and a much hazier sense of geography to boot. If the disaster is a natural one, you may be able to reassure your child that, no, there are no tsunamis in Montana.

Sometimes things are local, in which case you need to tell your child what you are doing to handle the situation. “Yes, the rain is making the river rise and some of the buildings by the river are flooding. Our house is a lot higher up than those houses, but we are keeping a close eye on things, and if the flood gets close to our street – which it probably won't – we are going to go to Grandma's.”

If it's a societal disaster, it's important to stress that the immediate threat is over (if it is). “Daddy got mugged last night, but he's home safe now and the police are looking for the people who stole his wallet” or “A lot of grown-ups stopped the man who was shooting people and now he's in jail. Doctors are helping the people who got hurt.” If the threat is local and imminent, tell your child what you're doing, as calmly as you can: “Some people are fighting with guns on our street, and to be safe we need to go in the house and lock the doors. I will call the police when we get inside.”

The more difficult questions (as if these aren't bad enough) will come later, when your child has had a chance to think. Try to be honest without giving gory details, and try to answer the question they may really be asking, too.

“Why did that man shoot a little girl?” Or: Could I get shot?

“Remember when you had that infected sliver, when you were 'sick' in your finger? That man was sick in his mind. The sickness – which is not catching, and you don't have – made him think things that weren't true, and do things that regular people don't do. His sick mind thought that shooting people would fix what was wrong with him. That little girl didn't do anything wrong, and the sick man wasn't mad at her. It was just bad luck that she was there when he was shooting.”

“What happens if you and Daddy get killed like those people on the airplane?” Or: Who will take care of me if something happens to you?

“That probably won't happen but if it does, we have made plans that you will go and live with Aunt Sue and Uncle John. You have a lot of people who love you, and there will be someone to take care of you until you are all grown up.” (Note: It's so important for parents to make out a will.)

“How could someone do those mean things to people?” Or: Is safety a lie? Is there no one I can trust? Is everyone I see a potential terrorist?

“Honey, I know you know a kid who is a real bully.” Get your kid to talk for a minute about a playground bully he knows. “Well, there are adult bullies, too; there are people who think they can take whatever they want, do whatever they want and hurt whoever they want just because they want it. There are two things you need to remember: One, that there are a lot more good people than there are bullies.” Talk for a bit about some of the heroism shown during the latest tragedy; for example, the congressional intern who ran into the firefight to give first aid to the people who got hurt. “The other is that you don't want to be a bully, so it's important to be fair and kind, and to help people who are not as lucky as you are.”

“How come no one helped those people?” Or: What if we need help some time?

“Sometimes people are scared, and sometimes they don't know how to help. Why don't we think of what we'd do in that situation, so we will be ready if it ever happens near us?” Then do something together that will help, however powerless you feel. Send blankets, send money to a scholarship fund, go over to your neighbor's house and help them pick up the pieces. Do something that will help you and your child to reclaim a feeling of control over your lives.

As adults we might suspect that security is an illusion, but we need that illusion – that sense that there is still a point to doing our best and raising our families with an eye to the future – to function at all.

Don't worry about trying to explain a tragedy so that it will make sense.

It's senseless. Even a child can see that.

Happy Birthday, Captain D.D. Burger!

Take your wings with you where ever you go!

Mom and Dad

Who's yo daddy?

As Mollie said in an earlier post, I recently came to a surprising discovery: my husband is not a woman (thus he does not communicate like we do) and he is not my father, so I shouldn't compare the two.

Justin and I have been together for a little over seven years now. We know each other very well and I thought we communicated fairly clearly. Here lately though, it felt as though we weren't really in the same book, let alone the same page. I felt misunderstood and... well, I've got a feeling he was pretty oblivious to my suffering.

Being the mother of four children six and under has me playing the role of sheriff, judge, jury and (infrequently, as they have all more or less survived thus far) executioner far more often than I like. When I give a direction, I expect it to be obeyed. Simply put, if I don't keep a firm grasp on the situations that arise, the patients would be running this insane asylum. When my husband comes home, it can be surprisingly difficult to switch from being the sole authority in the house to sharing that responsibility with him. There are times when I know I parent him, instead of partner with him. And that's just not right.

Instead of trusting him to handle all those crazy situations, I step in and take care of it, and he lets me. It has come to the point where the kids will ask him something and he'll tell them to ask me instead, which frustrates me to no end because by the time he gets home I've had my fill of decision making for the day. I say I'm frustrated, but it was my own mistrust that did me in. I'm working on that now. I ask him to do something, and even if he doesn't do it exactly how I would, I try (oh, it can be hard!) to be cheery and thank him without criticising or offering "helpful tips". Even if the two year old comes back with her floral shirt on backwards paired with plaid pants. She's dressed and I didn't have to do it.

I know I'm rambling. Forgive me. Back to my two points: being a man, my husband doesn't communicate the same way I do. Have you ever heard of how women's brains are compared to spaghetti (everything is connected to SOMETHING) and men's brains are like waffles (or boxes, one subject per box and they only focus on that ONE thing at a time)? So I need to communicate my needs in a way he can understand. I need to be straightforward and not assume he knows how I'm feeling or why I'm upset. This, of course, drives me absolutely BATTY when it is something we've discussed before and surely-he-knows-this-by-NOW, right?? Keeping in mind that he has probably already put that one subject away in his mind-box and hasn't brought it out again until I brought it back up tends to help rein in the frustration. While women (in general) are all about relationships and body language and reading between the lines, men (it seems) are a bit more dense and need things spelled out clearly. Honestly, reading relationship articles like "How to talk to your man" one of the first things that popped into my mind were "Boy, men sure need things dumbed down for them!" Horrible, I know, but there are somethings that are just intuitive for women and ya can't blame a man for not being a woman.

Second point about realizing he is not my father. My father LOVES to work on projects around the house. I am my father's daughter, and love projects as well. So when we moved into a fixer upper, I was all sorts of excited about all these lovely PROJECTS to get to do with my husband! Yay! Right? Not so much. Nearly two years later, the house is still a construction zone and Justin has finally said we need to save up to pay someone else to do the work. Working on the house is just not his cup of tea. Before I came to accept this about him, I would get SO frustrated! "He has the know how!" I'd fume, "Just not the motivation. GRUMBLE." When I finally accepted that it's not that he doesn't have the motivation, he doesn't have the Love of Projects like I do, it was like a weight being lifted. It's like.. he COULD figure out how to fix everything on the van if he had a passion to learn that... but since he doesn't, we take the van to a mechanic who DOES. How is repairing the house any different? Much less frustration on my part, now that I don't expect him to behave like my father.

Mollie made the observation that perhaps our husbands married our fathers, and I think she's right. I'm much more like my father than Justin ever will be. And isn't that to be expected? After all, the man did raise me, not Justin. These little light bulb moments are beautiful, and I hope they happen with great frequency as we continue to navigate the sometimes treacherous waters of married life.