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December 4, 2013
Lots going on this time of year. (Props for taking time to read a blog.) We feel pressure to make the holidays “perfect.” Pressure to spend. Pressure to save. Pressure to get the kids to behave. We all have moments when we trade “nice” for B#$@%. We’re human and we get stressed. But when we show more Beast than Loving Parent, we are damaging our children. That’s a problem that keeps making problems. The good news? We are key to the solution.
The following article is an excerpt from my book: Teaching Kids to Be Good People (If you’re interested, it’s 50% off for the holidays Code 3MZQS83F)
I had the pleasure of interviewing Rachel Simmons the Wise for my podcast series. We talked about her book The Curse of the Good Girl: Raising Authentic Girls with Courage and Confidence. We also discussed how often parents engage in meta-conversations with their children (i.e., parent says one thing and an unspoken message churns just below the surface).
With all that doublespeak how can a t(w)een learn to be authentic and express the truth of her heart? Not very easily. And it isn’t just parents and daughters. As Rachel put it, no matter who you’re talking to or what relationship you’ve got, “there’s always a meta-conversation going on.”
Parent: Oh, you’re still playing that game.
Meta-message: I just know you won’t get your homework
done tonight and then what? You think I like being on your case? Well, I don’t! But if I don’t keep after you how are you ever going to get into a decent college?
Mini meta-message: You’re lazy and I’m disappointed in you.
________
Parent: Don’t you think your other jeans would look better with that top?
Meta-message: Those jeans are too tight and too low cut. They make you look fat and slutty. What will Grandma say when she sees you wearing that? She’s going to think I’m a terrible mother to let you dress that way!
Mini meta-message: You’re fat and you embarrass me.
________
Parent: How’s your buddy Ryan these days?
Meta-message: Are you two still friends? Did something
happen between you? Are you now hanging out with people I should be worried about? (Sigh) You and I used to be able to talk about stuff. Now you don’t tell me anything. What else are you hiding from me? Maybe I don’t even want to know!
Mini meta-message: You’re disloyal and untrustworthy.
________
I’ve been thinking about meta-messages and how I use them. Whether they’re conscious or not, communication patterns between people often determine who we like to hang out with and who doesn’t make our FAVS list.
 Josie 2009-2012 During the holidays a few years back, Josie and I snuck out of the house before anyone else was up. Because she was still full of puppy beans and needed her off-leash time, we headed for the nearby hills. She instantly vanished through the trees tracking deer and squirrels and nosing the underbrush for ticks thumbing a ride. While she was gone I walked on, enjoying the quiet light and the colors. Every so often I’d whistle for Josie and she’d reappear, sometimes from behind me on the trail, sometimes way ahead. We’d smile at each other and wag our tails. “Yes! Good dog!” Then I’d give her a treat. After each reunion she’d take off again and I continued hiking.
So it went for an hour. When I finally put her back on leash I thought about the meta-conversation we had and why Josie happily kept returning to me. The way I figure, it comes down to this . . . each of us, dog and human, prefers to hang with those who tell us we are good dogs.
It also helps if they give us treats.
_______________
We’re in the darkest days of the year, so how about lightening up? Catch someone you love in the act of doing something right. Drop the meta-messages and smile.
December 2, 2013
 Let there be light and laughter and love Most of us don’t remember what our nearest and dearest gave us last year for a holiday gift. (Unless it was nada when we expected mucho. In that case we’ve still got those hurt feelings to cherish always.) We probably can’t remember what we gave them either!
We’re wired to remember how we feel. What was in the box… not so much. So why spend all the time and money stressing about, shopping for, then wrapping and delivering stuff for the most precious people on our list? Because we love them!
If we could, we’d show our love with every interaction. If we could, we’d tell our kids, “My life is enriched beyond measure because you are my child. I am grateful for my relationship with you. I love teaching you and learning from you. I understand who you are and I respect your uniqueness. All that you bring to this family is precious to me.”
Unfortunately we don’t know how to say any of that, so instead we give them stuff. And sometimes, when carefully chosen, the material gifts we give actually manage to transcend their innate stuffness.
When I was 15 my mother gave me a guitar for Chanukah. She’d “purchased” it with thousands of saved up S & H Green Stamps. Mom seemed to know exactly what my soul would respond to and her gift led me to new realms of self-expression and self-discovery. Playing music and singing became such a part of my identity that as a 22-year old teacher’s aide, my students presented me with a birthday cake in the shape of a guitar.
Curious about other peoples’ experiences, I asked a few folks to describe a very special gift they received as a child:
“When I was 9 my Dad & Mom gave me my first bike. I was so touched and happy because we had just moved and I knew times were very difficult for them. My first car was not as exciting.” R.C.
“When I was 5 my parents gave me a box of new crayons, which I enjoyed so much, lying on the floor coloring by the warm fireplace.” A.M.
“When I saw and smelled my first magnolia blossom I asked my parents if we could get a magnolia tree. They bought me one and as a family we planted it together in the yard. I now live 3,000 miles away from my parents’ home, but I still love to “visit” the magnolia tree whenever I’m there.” T.R.
“When I was a teen, my parents gave me a wooden box that looked like a pirate treasure chest. I think it held something that was supposed to be the real present, but I’ve long since forgotten what. But the box itself immediately became my favorite repository for special keepsakes. I’ve passed it on to my daughter who quickly put it to the same use. It gives me a happy glow to see it on her bookshelf.” N.F.
At the start of this gift-giving season, talk to your kids about what’s most important to each of you. Share your own stories about special gifts you’ve received. Think about ways your family can help others either locally and/or globally. Plan special time together – the best gift of all.
When you give, remember that your gift is an opportunity to show your deep understanding of and appreciation for the recipient. Gift-giving is all about love. Love is the gift. And if you choose wisely, something in a box may go straight to the heart.
 Enjoy... in joy
November 25, 2013
A post bearing a strong resemblance to this one was first posted here in January 2009.
Play your cards right and your empty nest isn’t empty 100% of the time. Since we officially became empty nesters in May 2007, our nest has expanded from accommodating just me, David and our dog, to periods where 5 people lived here, then 4, then 2, then one configuration of 3, then 5, then a new configuration of 3 and now… back to me David and our new puppy. The key to success when coming together again, at home or on vacation, is replacing the old parent-child relationship with one that matches the new reality of who “the kids” have become.
Having our daughter and son, their significant others and/or their friends stay with us from time to time is a joy for which I am eternally grateful. It wasn’t that way for me visiting my mother. She and I were hopelessly stuck in a destructive gear. It wasn’t until the last year of her life, when she was terminally ill, that we finally figured out how to have a wonderful relationship… as two adults.
I didn’t want to wait until I was dying to make peace with my adult children. So I’ve worked hard to maintain a healthy relationship with them. The efforts have paid off, but it takes an ongoing commitment.
Since we’ve got no mind readers here and we don’t worship at the altar of “Grin and bear it,” whenever our kids come back to live temporarily or visit for more than 3 days, we call a family meeting and discuss everyone’s expectations and needs during the new arrangement. It usually boils down to two basics:
Parents: We want to feel like we’re all adults on the same team, sharing the shopping, cooking, and cleaning.
Young adults: We want to be treated like adults, not kids who need your input on how to live our lives.
Sounds like we’ve got a deal. That’s why I’ve stuck by this mantra: “Give teens/adult kids no unsolicited advice.” Why bother? They don’t want it. They won’t accept it. And they resent you for offering it. Want less resentment? Quit giving them advice. Good advice! But damnit I give advice for a living! Keeping my mouth shut when I’ve got a helpful suggestion is tough. It’s also be part of my yoga practice. Ohmmmm.
Here’s a holiday challenge for you, if you’re game… take a look at your relationship with each of your children. Now fast forward to a time when they will return, as young adults, to visit you for the holidays. What would you like to see your relationship develop into? What could you start doing today (or stop doing) that might help you reach the place you want to be with them when they grow up?
Happy Thanksgiving from our family to yours!
 "We're safe, guys. I hear these folks are vegetarians."
November 21, 2013
The following post is an excerpt from my latest parenting book, Teaching Kids to Be Good People. You can read all of Chapter 1 right here.
 Life, bring on the lemons! Ever been up close and personal with a lemon tree and noticed how cool they are? I never had until I moved to California. Now I’ve got my own dwarf Meyer lemon and I can tell you that tree is an underrated miracle of nature. Right now, November 21st, it’s got teeny flower buds, heavenly smelling blossoms, baby green fruit, and ripe golden orbs, all at the same time. On a cosmic level, the lemon tree is constantly manifesting its entire life cycle, simultaneous living its past, present, and future! How cool is that?
One might assume straddling the time-space continuum causes internal conflict for the tree. Like maybe an undeveloped puny green guy eyes a juicy yellow beauty and gripes, “Damn! How come I’m not more mature?” Or some blossom whose petals flap in the wind, whines about how unfair it is that she’s no longer taut and firm like that sweet young bud over there. But noooo. The tree has evolved to a point where no phase of life is any better or worse than another. In the realm of lemon trees, there are no complaints, only total acceptance. What is, is. Lemon embraces all of it with equal acceptance and grace.
We humans on the other hand are hardwired for complaining. Even (maybe especially) those of us who have pretty soft lives compared to most folks on the planet. Adults often evaluate things in terms of what’s “wrong.” So how surprising is it that our kids frequently complain? The older they get, the more likely we are to find fault in what they do or fail to do! In addition to what we’re teaching them through negative modeling, teens are already incredibly judgmental. After all, they’re grappling with some key questions of their own:
Am I cool enough? Am I hot enough? Am I good enough?
The less confident they feel (from their own self-doubt and from the feedback piled on by their “friends” and parents), the more likely they are to complain. The more they complain, the more we complain about their complaining. Ugh.
Now I’m not advocating an all- Zen-all-the-time approach to living, where we make damn sure we never find fault with anything. That’s too tough to be practical. Besides there are certain situations that are inherently faulty. Like when the cottage cheese has gone off. No amount of Ohmmming is going to make me smile when I lift that lid and get a whiff. So yeah, life serves up plenty of unacceptable tidbits. When you’ve got one, just do something about it. Complaining is never a prerequisite for action. Nor is it a substitute.
When a family member presents us with something unacceptable, rather than exploding and losing control of mind and mouth, try this instead: “This cell phone bill of $1,000 is unacceptable. You will pay this, not me.” That’s not a complaint. That’s a simple directive. When we whine less and fill our sentences with more verbs (calls to action), we might get more cooperation and less complaining from our kids. At the same time, we are teaching them that a positive attitude helps us deal with life’s inconveniences more effectively than complaints.
On that positive note, I want to report that last week I picked all the ripe lemons from the tree and made lemon marmalade. Not to complain or anything, either the recipe was wrong or I misread it. Either way, the results were . . . uh . . . not edible. Fortunately the tree’s still got plenty of green babies. In another month or so, I’ll take another shot at it.
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