No One Cares If You Know Their Name

No One Cares If You Know Their Name

The lessons I’ve learned from my students and clients have become a part of who I am, how I parent, and how I view the world.  My mistakes shaped me.

I was 25 years old when I first started working as a middle school counselor in southern CA.  Excitement bubbled throughout me because I was fulfilling my dream of “making a difference” in the world.

I remember gluing copies of prior year school photos for each student on index cards. My goal was to learn all 323 names prior to the start of school so that I could welcome my caseload on a first name basis. I imagined the delight on my students’ faces when they heard me call their names. They’d feel seen, heard, and important. I had no children at this stage, so devoting more than twenty-five unpaid hours to this mighty endeavor seemed logical. I began my first year of counseling with gusto and the confidence that all of the students would love me.

There I stood, outside my office on the first day of school, ready to whip out Sarah’s name and positively impact her educational progression and success. However, the student photos I used were taken a full year prior, which translates into innumerable changes for tweens and teens. More than half of the students were unrecognizable from their 2×3 inch photo.

But whether or not I recognized them didn’t matter. I was an adult in their eyes and tweens and teens don’t care about the adults on the first day of school, or for most of the days of school. They care about who they are going to sit with during lunch, what friends are in their classes, whether or not their outfits are cool, if the teachers are mean or nice, will the curriculum be exciting or boring, and a million other things. The overly eager new counselor calling out random names registers as strange and slightly creepy.

Twenty plus years later, I can confidently say that I wasted so much time memorizing faces and names. My attempt at “knowing” the students was totally off base. They had never met me. I had never met them. Connection is made through personal interactions, being there when needed, and remembering important details after getting acquainted.  

I wanted to be liked. I wanted to be important. I wanted students to need me. But what I wanted doesn’t matter. What matters is following through with commitments, reacting without judgment or opinion, developing trust, listening, being an advocate, creating a safe space for students to come on their own accord, and providing thought provoking and enriching social-emotional curriculum and programs. Proving that I know a student’s name means nothing in the absence of a relationship.

It reminds me of Maya Angelou’s quote:

“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

Nothing Compares? Meh.

Nothing Compares? Meh.

Parenting is relentless. An undo button – so helpful when playing a game of solitaire on a phone- is not available. Therefore, parenting blogs and instagram accounts are often a welcome respite from the day-to-day drudgery of motherhood. Some offer practical tips for natural wellness , healthy food choices and recipes. Others connect with moms on an emotional level providing much needed compassion, humor and empathy. If you find the right community, it can feel like a sisterhood or a tribe.

17 years ago, I needed that sisterhood but it was a couple of years too early.  So, I joined a mommy’s group. I filled the last spot of a group of eight. I can’t remember how I found the group. Maybe a friend of a friend told me? My ObGyn? I don’t remember much from those early days, in all honesty. Brain fog. I do remember being hopeful, however. Sure, I had friends to talk to, but none of them had children back then. I assumed that being with other moms would feel different and maybe lighten they burden from all my conflicting feelings.

How do I juggle work and home?

What about the changing relationship with my partner?

Is okay if I don’t love all aspects of being a mom?

Does anyone else feel bored being with her baby and then guilty?

Anyone else want her boobs back?

And what about the drudgery of the repetitive day?

I figured we’d connect as women and complain about motherhood together while our babies played. It would be the perfect combination.  These women would feel the same way I did.

Alas, I was WRONG. All of the women in the mommy group were lovely. They were intelligent, caring, and friendly. There was nothing wrong with any of them, and that was the problem. I felt like I was holding on by a thin thread, and they appeared perfectly blissful.

Motherhood is such a blessing.

Isn’t this the most incredible experience?

Breastfeeding is a miracle.

Don’t you just get lost watching them sleep?

Nothing they said resonated with me. In fact, it made me feel more alone.

They’d talk about the color, size, smell, and consistency of their babies’ poop. It wasn’t a three-minute conversation either. It was an in depth exploration of shit. 45 minutes of SHIT. I wasn’t interested. I could care less that my son’s shit was a little runnier than normal so I really didn’t want to listen about someone else’s shit. Once, two moms opened the diapers to compare colors. 

And the breastfeeding. Oh boy. Now, I’m not prude. I don’t mind seeing naked bodies or talking about the body. But, sitting in a circle with 6 out of 8 women breastfeeding and dripping milk wasn’t on my list of favorite things. So after about 5 or 6 meetings with this group, I politely excused myself. I made up a bullshit excuse so as not to hurt anyone’s feelings; something along the lines of – it’s not you, it’s me.

But, I should have said the truth. I should have told these women, “I don’t love the baby stage, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t love my baby son something fierce. I’m leaving this group because I need more than SHIT talk. I’m looking for friendship and to get to know you all as women in addition to being mothers.”

In hindsight, had I been honest, the group probably would’ve rallied around me and we could have gotten to a different level. Maybe they could’ve helped me through that not so delightful stage and then I could’ve returned the favor. But, I was afraid to share my true feelings. I was afraid to be me. I was afraid of judgment.

Not anymore.

I don’t like the baby stage. Or the toddler stage.

Bring me your adolescents (ages 10-19). The more the attitude, the more I like. Obnoxiousness is not a problem. Bring on the sassy talk. I love watching a little being twist and turn and morph into a larger being. Many people look at me incredulously when I reveal my preference for the teen and tween. That’s okay! I feel that way when they gush over a baby. We’re all different and that’s the beauty of human nature and motherhood. The only “right way” is your way. Be you.

I’d love to hear your experiences with mommy groups or being a mom! Please comment below!

Parenting: The Course No One Teaches

Parenting: The Course No One Teaches

Whenever I’m unsure professionally, I call my psychiatrist father. It’s instinctual and immediate. My father’s psychiatric expertise is based upon years of medical school and residency. He taught psychiatry to residents so of course he knows the right course of action in a psychologically charged situation. Student in crisis, ask Dad. Parent off the handle, ask Dad. Tricky diagnosis, ask Dad.  He provides great, solid advice.

Why then didn’t I run to my father for parenting advice as soon as my children where born?

‘Hang on. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Apparently that’s not a good idea.’

My mother and father did a good job with me. They weren’t perfect; notebooks of EMO poetry from my teen years clearly highlight my discontent. Despite their errors, I turned out relatively self aware and stable (in my humble opinion). My parents were present, loving, and involved. I felt loved and loved them in return.

So, I’ve spent quite a bit of time contemplating why I never solicited my parents for advice or suggestions about parenting. In fact, the moment my mother or father offered a suggestion or idea about how to do something differently, an eruption the magnitude of Niagara Falls went off inside my body (and possibly out of my mouth).

What do they know?

How dare they!

They don’t know my children better than I do.

They’re old school.

Life is different now; they don’t get it.

What I’ve finally come to understand is that my insecurities hijacked my rational thoughts. I heard every suggestion as a criticism. Their advice somehow meant that I wasn’t a good parent.  I expected myself to “know better”. 

But there’s no way to “know better” when you’ve never done it before! Just as I wouldn’t expect myself to land a triple axle in ice skating on the first attempt, so should I not assume to get parenting right on the first go (or second or third). Plus, there’s not only one correct way to approach parenting.

There isn’t a course or a degree you can earn to become an educated and verified parent. There’s no outside agency to provide a credential or stamp of approval. It’s trial and error. It’s being OPEN to making mistakes. It’s about listening to other opinions and scanning through the advice to make sure that it resonates with our own values and ethics.

Now, I welcome my parents’ insights. They provide a different perspective, which I appreciate rather than feel embarrassed or ashamed by. Sometimes I agree. Sometimes I don’t. Most importantly, I forgive myself for parenting gaffes. I expect to make mistakes as I expect my children to make mistakes. Together, we learn and figure it out. For better and for worse.

Lessons from Parenting

Lessons from Parenting

Years ago, when my sons were toddlers, my psychiatrist father and marriage and family therapist mother provided sound parenting advice but as a new mom, I dismissed them because I thought I knew better. They were outdated; they didn’t know how to raise kids in the 21st century. There were newer, better “rules” of parenting. Besides, I had my masters in counseling and had been working as a school counselor for 6 years.  So what if I was exhausted, cranky, and stressed? So what if I imagined running away more than seven times a day? I perceived their suggestions as attacks on my ability to parent, indications that I was failing. If they commented on my child’s obnoxious behavior, I became even more sensitive and defensive. 

And there was no shortage of obnoxious behavior in my house. My youngest son had perfected the art of throwing a horrific tantrum by the age of two. A fair skinned child, Charlie’s face would turn a fabulous shade of heirloom red tomato as he kicked and screamed with tears and snot flowing everywhere.  He screamed as if his insides were being torn apart. Ask him to do something he didn’t want to do and BAM the world was coming to an end. Say no to him, and WHAM screams hurled through the house.

One day, my parents were visiting and we were headed to the park. Before we left, I asked Charlie – in my calmest and most encouraging voice – to pick up the Magna-tiles he’d artistically strewn across the living room. That wasn’t on his agenda, however. I calmly explained to him that we weren’t going to the park until the tiles were picked up. He didn’t budge. A back and forth of me telling him to pick up the toys or we weren’t going to the park ensued. I cajoled, bargained, and bribed. Nothing worked.

My parents watched until I was so fed up I wanted to fling the tiles at all three of them: Charlie for not listening and my parents for witnessing my complete lack of control.

“How many times do I have to tell you to pick up your toys?” I yelled at my 4 year- old son.

“As many times as you’ll do it,” my mother said under her breath.

“He’s four!” I snapped, feeling immediately defensive and embarrassed. “He’s only four!” I was totally out of control and they were witnessing it. My 4 year old was in charge and I was a failure.

“You know, Cindy,” my dad said in his slow smooth voice that only a psychiatrist of 30 years can master, “seems to me like he’s making your life pretty miserable and you’re always trying to make his life wonderful. Maybe there’s a problem?” 

Maybe? Um, definitely.

I repeatedly bargained with a toddler. I issued threats without follow through because holding the line and sticking to boundaries was exhausting. I bent over backwards making sure that he had play dates (social interactions) and park visits (time in nature) and story time at the library (early exposure to reading) and the list continued. I kept doing and doing and doing. Making his life wonderful while I felt miserable. So I decided that I needed to make his life as miserable as he was making mine.

I wasn’t going to intentionally make his life difficult, I just wasn’t going to turn myself into a pretzel to make sure that he felt no discomfort. I decided not to care about the looks from strangers if he pitched a fit in the middle of the grocery store. His tantrums weren’t about me. They weren’t a reflection of my poor parenting. His tantrums were because he wasn’t getting what he wanted. But, he needed to learn that behaviors have consequences. If he refused to clean up before going to the park, he wouldn’t get to go to the park and play with his friends. The other mothers could think I was a “mean” mom. They could think whatever they wanted, but I decided that it was more important for him to learn that life is unpleasant, sometimes. And it’s okay. He’ll be okay.

Now that my boys are teenagers, I’m grateful for my parents and their unsolicited advice. They helped me understand the importance of not fixing every situation, not giving in to every whim. To allow failure. To allow disappointment. Disappointment and struggle are necessary for the developing mind. Young people need to experience sadness, frustration, worry, and embarrassment because they need to know that they have the capabilities to handle themselves and come out on the other side.

Problems lead to problem solving.

Rescuing leads to dependency and the belief the child isn’t capable of handling the situation on his/her own.

We need to be there to listen, love, and support. But parenting isn’t about making life perfect . (Instagram and Facebook have the market on feigning perfection.) Instead, we can parent for independence and true belief in one’s self. Parenting is the hardest job and it doesn’t end when our children become “adults”. If we start out parenting by running ourselves ragged and making sure that everything is “just right” for our children, we rob them of the opportunity to take care of themselves and we exhaust ourselves in the process.

Recipe For Raising Powerful Daughters

Recipe For Raising Powerful Daughters

Heaping Cup of Personal Power 

Allow your daughter to feel that she has control over things that happen to her. Let her have a voice in making decisions. Whenever possible, let her make constructive choices about her life. Let her choose her own clothes, within appropriate limits. Give her a voice in what after-school activities she participates in and how many she wants to do (as long as it works for the rest of the family, too). When parents trust girls to make decisions, girls internalize the message that they are capable.

Development of Sense of Purpose 

Girls need to feel that their life has a purpose. Girls need to discover and nurture their sparks! (Sparks refers to the intrinsic interests, talents, and passions that young people have that motivate them to learn, grow, and contribute to society.)

The Search Institute research shows that youth who thrive have two important supports: knowledge of what their sparks are and adults who support the development of those sparks. Full engagement with an activity she loves will give her the opportunity to master challenges, which will boost her self-esteem and resilience and affirm intrinsic values rather than appearance,” says Rachel Simmons, author of Odd Girl Out and Enough As She Is.

Family Values and Role Modeling
What traits and strengths do you want your daughter to develop as she grows? Are these qualities are reflected in how you parent? Do you have clear boundaries and reasonable expectations? Do you model self-acceptance and appreciation or are you constantly criticizing and degrading yourself?

Encourage her to solve issues on her own rather than fixing things for her.
When parents take over, girls don’t develop the coping skills they need to handle situations on their own. Ask your daughter to consider three strategies she might use to deal with a situation, and then ask her about the possible outcomes. Let her decide what she wants to do (within reason). Even if you disagree with her choice, you give your daughter a sense of control over her life and show her that she is responsible for her decisions. Mistakes create growth and awareness, not to mention opportunities for discussion. Our daughters need to be prepared for life’s bumpy road. Don’t try and pave the road for them!!

Encourage her to take physical risks.
“Girls who avoid risks have poorer self-esteem than girls who can and do face challenges,” says JoAnn Deak, Ph.D., author of Girls Will Be Girls. “Urge your daughter to go beyond her comfort zone — for example, encourage a girl who’s scared to ride her bike downhill to find just a small hill to conquer first.” Catherine Steiner-Adair, Ed.D., co-author of Full of Ourselves: A Wellness Program to Advance Girl Power, Health and Leadership, agrees. “It’s important to help even non-athletic girls develop some physical competence and confidence when they’re young. Whether it’s through team or individual sports, girls need to form a physical relationship with their body that builds confidence.”

Allow her to disagree with you and get angry.
Raising a powerful girl means living with one. She must be able to stand up to you and be heard, so she can learn to do the same with classmates, teachers, a boyfriend, or future bosses.  Help girls to make considered choices about how to express their feelings, and to whom.

Listen more than you talk.
Allow your daughter the time and freedom to discuss what’s on HER mind. It may seem trivial or unimportant to you, but acknowledging her feelings will lead to increased dialogue and openness when the important/difficult issues arise.

Help her process the messages in the media. 
By helping your daughter process the messages she sees on the screen and develop her own ideas about them, you can prepare her to better resist the media’s pervasive stereotypes. The media is selling young people the idea that girls’ and women’s value lies in their youth, beauty, and sexuality and not in their capacity as leaders. Boys learn that their success is tied to dominance, power, and aggression. We must value people as whole human beings, not gendered stereotypes.