Kids, Stress and Spazz

Having a four-year-old and a two-year-old, I find myself switching my focus from one to the other as they alternate suddenly growing horns and turning into... well... it's not nice to call your children names.  It seems, as soon as one is done going through a thing, the other one goes for it! Over these years, I have developed some insights into what's going on that helps me retain my cheer and even display occasional grace as we go down this path.

Children often go through phases during which our relationship with them becomes rife with conflict. Our grandparents generation said, we were being bad. Our parents preferred "acting out" as the descriptive term.  I use "spazzing".  It is inoffensive, very descriptive and accurate in what's really going on. Sometimes, a child will seem to bounce of walls, damaging the household belongings, refusing to listen or cooperate. At other times, he or she may break down into tearful tantrums over the smallest things. My son used to get into angry sulking moods and I couldn't get through to him. There are dozens of way for a child to exhibit this behavior, but I have come to believe that they all mean the same thing:

   I am stressed.

Stress in kids seems to come from three major sources: developmental spurts, major changes and disruptions in his life, and stressed parents. During these phases, strict discipline seems nearly useless, often exacerbating the problem. It makes sense. Imagine coming home grumpy from a tough day at work preceded by a long and difficult period to have your spouse say, "This is not an acceptable behavior in our household." Definitely not good! After all, we look to our partners to help us calm, relax, refocus, so we can rethink the situation and make better decisions at a later time.

When is a fetus a person?

This is a deeply personal story for me, but one I wanted to share with my friends and anyone else who treats life as a rational standard of value.

Yesterday morning, my husband and I lost our future baby.  A loss of pregnancy is more than a loss of what's already there - a growing fetus, a baby that moves and hiccups and one I had a growing connection with.  It is a loss of what would have been, of hopes and fantasies, of little details I imagined, of the person we were planning on welcoming into our growing family.

In the end, I was ok.  A had to shed some tears as I was going through a live birth of a baby that would not be. Yet, this was a set back, just a delay of the happiness we were invested in and nothing in our present life was changed.  I was given excellent care at the hospital thus far and I was looking forward to going home, getting back to my life.

Then the forms showed up. First, I was astounded at the form which asked for the baby's name, race, parent information and led up to the question of whether to request a SSN for the baby.  "Seriously? That's a rather inappropriate set of questions given the circumstances," I thought and asked the nurse politely if I could refuse filling it out.  Then a big envelope came.  I was told that a social worker was going to come to talk to us.  Hearing those two dirty words, my husband reared up and started asking questions the nurse could not comprehend about the job of the social worker and what it was that she was planning to accomplish.  I interrupted.  "What my husband is saying is - I am not willing to talk to a social worker."  You may be wondering why.  What's so scary about social workers? I'll just say that if you have children and find out there is a social worker near you, your first instinct should be to flee.  They are certainly not there to improve your relationship with your kids, nor to make your life better.  They are there with a near-unilateral power to judge whether your ideas of parenting are the right ones and to act on their judgement.  I was at a loss as to what such a person might want with a dead fetus - but the principle remained - run - or refuse to speak.

Nor surprisingly, every busy-body in a 200-yard radius of our room showed up.  Turns out, a twenty-week fetus is considered a person.  Therefore we need to make a funeral arrangement and everything that goes with that.

"Why would you do this to parents?" I asked.

"Blah.. blah.. so sorry for your loss... Legally it's a person..."

"I do not consider a twenty-week-old fetus that has no capacity for life a person. Therefore I will not treat it as such.  However, if you do and would like to do whatever is appropriate, you are more than welcome to."

"Blah... blah... We are legally required..."

"OK, I am willing to do whatever it takes to stay out of jail.  What do I need to do?"

"J-j-j-jail???  Where did that come from?  How did you even get there???"

"You explained that there are some things required by law.  I understand that the implication is that if I break the law, I go to jail, is that correct?"

"Oh... well... blah... blah... I understand you have suffered a loss..." She put her arms around me and repeated "I am so sorry" over and over again, like her sympathy was going to change her mind.

It went on from there.  They explained that burial may be very inexpensive. That we don't have to give the baby a specific name, but Baby would do. I explained that I found this process offensive and would not condone it.  Eventually, my husband went through the forms and signed those that were unobjectionable - such as a release for an autopsy.  He also named the baby Miscarriage and signed some form where you had to testify that you were indigent and wished the county to dispose of the body - but crossed out the indigent part...  They took the papers they could get and ran.

I found the whole process offensive, ghoulish and cruel.  However, I happened to be particularly well-suited not to be emotionally impacted by it - thinking about naming the baby, burying it and so on was not going to increase the sense of loss. For many it would.  

How could it be ok in our culture to show up in a labor & delivery room, minutes after a dead fetus emerged from a woman's body to be carefully placed in a jar and taken away to be examined for genetic defects, and force the parents to think about whether they want it cremated or buried? And further insist when they decline any such option? How could it be ok to do that with a still-born baby that never took a breath of his own, let alone a fetus, barely half way through the pregnancy? 

This happened at Huntington Hospital in Pasadena, not a religious hospital, but a normal secular facility where patients go in the hopes to avoid precisely this kind of harassment. I knew things have been going that way, but this one is surprising, even to me.

Organized mind

Image taken from the AMI website

Is the Montessori order good for everyone? Are those of us who thrive in chaos better off in an environment that allows for that, away from rules, order and attention to detail encouraged by the Montessori method?

I received this question recently from a like-minded parent who chose to homeschool her daughter. I could immediately relate to the concern.  Yes, this is how my mind functions and how I thrive: chaos, high-pressure, thinking on my feet. I excel at a fast-paced dot com start-up and wilt in a corporate structure with pay grades, strict authority hierarchies and well-defined job descriptions.

Yet, the answer is quickly apparent to me - YES!  Montessori is the best way to raise and educate a young child. 

In her writings, Maria Montessori explained her belief that an organized environment shapes a well-organized mind. I know that my own thought process is haphazard and have learned to do quite well with it. When writing software (that's what I do, by the way!) I find it impossible to go by the standard architecture => design => implement paradigm.  Instead, I open a terminal window and start typing.  I am fast and though my method results in frequent false-starts, and my software wears out faster - I can still beat the vast majority of programmers out there in the final product.

But is my ability to be creative mutually exclusive with ordered thought? Over the years, I have worked hard to improve my long-range vision, ability to concentrate, attention to detail.  Those qualities have enabled me to become more productive and, I can attest, did not hinder my extreme creative drive. Yet, every step along that path is arduous: seeing the field far enough ahead in great detail is something that requires extreme level of thought organization.  I might see shapes even farther than most - and see opportunities or avoid pitfalls - but they come as snapshots, where the big picture is often missed.

Having struggled to tame my unruly mind, I have become enamored with Montessori ideas of helping a child go down this road naturally, while it's easy and obvious.  

I have two children: a thoughtful, methodical and cautious Alex (4) and a wild, unruly, risk-taking and creative Lily (2). Not surprisingly, if you think about it, I have seen the greatest positive effect from a Montessori environment on the one who needs it most: Lily.  As soon as she started attending school, she calmed down, became focused, her tantrums diminished and it became far easier to reason with her. Most interestingly, prior to starting school, she often said, "I can't figure out what my job is!"  What that meant in a child that young isn't completely clear - except that she was obviously lost and confused.  Just three hours a day where her function is clear have brought her around and helped her cope with her crazy two-year-old emotions running wild.

I cannot create a real Montessori environment in my home.  Forget organization and harmony - just keeping it a step above a filthy mess takes all the organizational skills I personally possess.  I have learned to accept that about myself. But I treasure what the Montessori school gives my kids - not the academics, which I would excel at myself - but the sense of order, purpose and harmony.

Raising compassionate kids

A friend forwarded me an article that attempts to claim that our early hunter-gatherer ancestors raised happier, more compassionate kids—thanks to natural birth, extended breast feeding, and co-sleeping. Should modern parents follow suit?

I am extremely wary of granting premises such as these. One would have to present serious evidence to back up a claim of this nature.
 
There are straightforward and obvious explanations for a lack of empathy in our kids: it stems from the cultural philosophy, which penetrates their environment. Cynicism, a negative view of the world, second-handed pressures. These are the things our society is drowning in.

Raising your kids to run outdoor and enjoy the beauty of the world, take pride in their own creative achievements, love those around them while growing up without the constant fear of the boogie-man is going to cultivate the generosity of  spirit, positive sense of life and the ability to connect with others. Are the hunter-gatherer societies more like that than the 21st century America?  In times of peace, certainly. But a proper modern society would do far better. (Yes, we are seriously considering going to New Zealand once our kids are educated.)

These basic philosophical explanations are rather obvious, straight-foward, and don't require the stretching necessary to attribute these things to medical interventions involved in child birth.

Here is another way to look at it: a young mother says: "Boy, I'd like to raise generous and compassionate human beings with a positive sense of life."  Do you tell her a) don't get an epidural!  or b) have a long conversation about values, positive discipline, proper ethics and respectful parenting?

Sure, breastfeeding is great. Co-sleeping has its advantages. But in the grand scheme of things, a mother who had to have a c-section and was unable to breastfeed, but follows proper parenting principles will fare better than a la leche league mom with a negative world view.

Parenting as a career

In the famous Ayn Rand's playboy interview, she was asked a question near and dear to those of us who have chosen parenting as a full time occupation:

PLAYBOY: In your opinion, is a woman immoral who chooses to devote herself to home and family instead of a career?

RAND: Not immoral -- I would say she is impractical, because a home cannot be a full-time occupation, except when her children are young. However, if she wants a family and wants to make that her career, at least for a while, it would be proper -- if she approaches it as a career, that is, if she studies the subject, if she defines the rules and principles by which she wants to bring up her children, if she approaches her task in an intellectual manner. It is a very responsible task and a very important one, but only when treated as a science, not as a mere emotional indulgence. 

 This basically validates everything that I hold as important: parenting is not about keeping the house. It is an intellectual pursuit, one where truth is knowable, learning is valuable and ideas matter. Parents who choose to do anything less, have not chosen raising children as a kind of single-minded goal that is a requirement of a productive life. They need no excuse to continue working full time. Yet, they cannot make the claim that their children are their primary and fundamental value.


An additional question arises: what does Ayn Rand mean by young children? Infants? Preschoolers? How about homeschool teenagers?


My best guess is that Ayn Rand would not be able to answer this question in terms of concretes. Parenting was not her field of study and she would likely be at a loss as to when parenting is a full time job.

However, the general answer is within the above quote:

"if she wants a family and wants to make that her career, at least for a while, it would be proper -- if she approaches it as a career, that is"

As long as the mother finds herself productively engaged with her children, as long as this engagement is capable of occupying her whole self intellectually & emotionally, providing professional satisfaction - it's obvious, she is making the right and moral choice.

When at some point she is looking for something to do to occupy herself because her children are away and she feels bored around the house - well, that's a great time to consider a productive activity.

Therefore my answer highly depends on the mother and her engagement. On one end of the spectrum, I can see that many mothers are not intellectually engaged in parenting. They should probably seek a productive activity as soon as they feel it is reasonable for the child to be separated from the mother. On the other, I imagine a mom dedicating her life to kids' education, spending her free time learning how to excel.

Tearless shampoo-less healthy hair

Do your kids resist the bath?  Mine always did. By the time my son was two, it became near-impossible to get him into the bath. He was terrified of washing his hair! We had tried everything: visors, special pouring cups, having his lay back in the bath (that turned out to be the scariest one of all!) Finally, a friend advised me to wash his hair just once a week and things got a little better.

But everything changed recently. I made a personal discovery: our hair comes pre-installed with a self-cleaning feature and needs no more than clean water to activate it!  I told the story of transforming my own hair at Cave Kitchen (my Paleo lifestyle blog) and wanted to share it with fellow parents because one of the dramatic discoveries it led me to (besides eliminating my own dandruff and having the hair I love) is peaceful bath time!  Enjoy.  :-)

Mistaken goals: grown-up edition

"Mistaken goals: the Swiss-Army knife of parenting" is the title of a delightful post by Kelly Ellmore in Reepicheep's Coracle which generated much lively discussion. To be honest, I completely forgot about the concept of mistaken goals, but I have my own twist on the idea.

Young children don't misbehave - they act in a fashion consistent with their goals, desires and emotions. It is our job to help them a) recognize these goals, desires and emotions explicitly b) cope with difficulties effectively and c) make decisions that will serve the attainment of their values.


To correct a child's behavior (for a wonderful practical example, see Kelly's followup article on applying these concepts in the classroom), the adult needs to figure out the why's:  a) mistaken goals b) implicit desires and c) current emotions the child is experiencing. Jane Nelsen does a nice job of breaking down this approach in the Mistaken Goals Chart and I won't try to come up with anything new there.

Instead, I want to focus on how this same concept changed my life when my husband introduced the idea to me to help solve my very grown-up problems. We call it the Thinking Game. Why?  Well, Here is how it happened.

We were taking a road trip across the country. Somewhere in the middle of Wyoming I got to thinknig about my job. "I've been frequently told, I am not a good listener," I said, "and I believe, it interferes with my career." Jeff turned to me and said, "Why do you think, it does?" "Well, because every boss I have keeps telling me so!  They always package it up with 'Kate, you think so fast, other people don't have a chance to catch up with your processing, and they feel their ideas aren't being heard' or something. But I find it so hard to listen when I already know what they are going to say!"  "Well, " he said in a oh-so-frustrating Socratic fashion, " why is it so hard?" "Ahm, because I want to get to the right answer!" I was beginning to sound foolish to myself. His why's kept on coming. Did it matter more that we got the right answer, or that my boss thought, I was a listener? Was it about creating a better product, or getting a promotion?

I felt like I was being undressed, publicly. It was... well, an exhilirating, humiliating, eye-opening self-discovering torture. In the end, I said, "This is so mucb fun! Like a great game!" My dear husband rolled his eyes and said with apparent exasperation, "yeah, the thinking game..." He got his just desserts when this sarcastic statement became a pillar of my self-improvement for years to come.

Children do not have a copyright on mistaken goals. We start with inappropriate unrecognized desire for attention or power or security, and build layers on top of it until, as adults, we construct elaborate strategies to achieve goals we are not fully aware we have. More often than not, making these goals explicit (and learning to recognize them for what they are!) provides easy and effective strategies for achieving them.

How's this one: WHY do you feel bothered by the disrespectful way a stranger treats her children at the playground? When I answered that question, I became better able to make friends with other moms and quit feeling so lonely... But that's a whole another story.

Explaining lying to kids

Lying creates one of the most hurtful conflicts we have with our children. The problem usually starts up at the age of two and a half. "I washed hands!" he announces with a mischievous grin and eventually produces filthy, grime-covered fingers. The issue escalates as he gets older, often becoming a family battle by the time he reaches his teens.  Not surprisingly, we are long past thinking it's cute at that stage.

Siblings without rivalry

Siblings fought before you were born, while you were growing up, they still fight now and will forever, right?  I knew a woman who said, she did not want to have multiple children because she didn't want to experience what her and her sister put her mom through by their constant conflicts.

We were visiting friends, wonderful parents of two young children.


"Mooooom, Tory is not sharing!" "Tory, be nice to your sister!"
"Moooom!  Rylee took my truck!" "Rylee, give that truck back!"

I only had one child and was still pregnant with the second.  "My goodness," I thought.  How are these children expected to get along independently? What kind of a relationship are they going to have?
Next time we heard a howl for adult intervention, I decided to experiment.

"Rylee, have you told Torry how you feel?  Give it a try!  I know he loves you.  Just ask him for your toy."

Miraculously, Torry, who had been a belligerent two-year-old boy all afternoon, was offering Rylee the precious truck they have spent all day fighting about!

Positive discipline: learning through consequences

Physical punishment is out of vogue, though I bet the vast majority of parents spank or otherwise use punitive force against their kids, whether they admit it or not. The notion of punishment, however, is still as american as apple pie.

Alex was visiting his cousin.  "She is in time-out," he was told by her older sister.  He looked puzzled.  "She was punished," Hunter explained.  Blank stare.  "Well, she is in trouble!" Alex began looking vaguely concerned.  At the age of two, he had never been exposed to the idea of punishment or any terminology that went with it.

Our family learned the method of natural consequences long before he had the capacity to misbehave. The idea is simple to learn, but it requires self-discipline, patient practice, and a willingness to make mistakes.

Raising polite children

Lily (18 mos) is dancing to Mozart in her music class. The teacher is handing out gauze scarfs that make it even more fun.  "Tanks!" she automatically murmurs as she grabs the scarf and starts spinning around.  A boy bumps into her, almost knocking her off her feet.  "Soh-wee," she says as she struggles to right herself.  "OK?" she turns to check on the boy before returning to her dance. Soon the music is over.  "Drink, peeese!" she smiles at me and give me a hug as I open a water bottle for her.

Where did she learn to act this way?  Mostly, from her three-year-old brother Alex, who is delighted by how well he has taught her.  He knows the secret that most adults miss.

Bad language is not the only type of idiom that stick. Children imitate all they hear from us: speech mannerisms, colorful epithets, exclamations of joy & frustration. Same goes for politeness.

Kylee (age 4, as far as I can tell) is engaged with her friends at the playground. A girl shares a toy. Kylee's eyes are full of delight. Thankfully, she picks up the doll and looks at her in fascination. She looks up at her new friend, in silent grattitude. Suddenly, Mom appears.  "What do we say, Kylee?" the moment is gone... Kylee becomes withdrawn. She takes back a few steps and murmurs, "Thank you..."  "That's right, Kylee, we always remember to say thank you, right?" The rhetorical question is left unanswered and Kylee is absent-mindedly twirling the doll's hair as Mom leaves.


Kylee has received a lesson her mother would be shocked to learn she has given. Instead of politeness, she was tutoring her daughter in tactless, graceless rudeness. Have no doubt - the lesson learned will surface, though not recognized by either - and her family's reaction will confuse Kylee further, beginning to undermine her trust in her family, adults, the world around her.