Learning to Not Help

Your child comes into the house crying. She has a scraped and bleeding knee. She tells you what happened and how she got hurt. You answer her questions and give her a hug. Then you walk away, leaving her crying and bleeding, and go back to what you were doing.

Can you imagine doing this? As a mom?! That’s not the way most moms are wired. It’s a mother’s job to make things better. Right? To take care of things. Fix things. Get the bandaids, bring the kleenex, solve the problems. Moms are not supposed to just walk away … leaving their children still hurting … to fend for themselves … heal their own wounds … solve their own problems … make their own decisions … manage the consequences of their choices … learn to take care of themselves … be motivated to prevent future injury by changing their actions … okay, wait a minute. Those last few things sounded important. Those are good things to learn.

Not helping my children in times of struggle or pain has been the hardest lesson I’ve had to learn as a mother. All I ever wanted for my kids was for them to be happy and healthy. And yet our most profound learning and growth comes through our struggles, our challenges, our tough decisions, and our physical and emotional pain. When parents step in and help too early or too often, they rob their children of important and often essential lessons.

When we are pushed to our limits, we learn the most about ourselves and the path we were meant to be on. When we think we can’t handle any more, and then we do, we learn that we are more capable and have more inner strength than we realized. When we keep pushing stubbornly in one direction until things start getting worse, rather than better, we can finally accept the need to switch paths. When we have trouble managing our finances and money gets really tight, we learn what’s really important to us and how little we actually need to get by.

A complicating factor is that the help offered might be the wrong kind of help. When trying to solve a problem, I typically put myself in the other person’s shoes. I then figure out what kind of help would make me feel better. But each person has his own insecurities, concerns, and goals. The things that would make me feel more comfortable and secure might not resolve the key problems for him/her…and might actually aggravate his/her situation.

Helping each other is an important part of family life. There are times when we really do need a back to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, or a cushion to fall on. And being able to help, to really make a difference in another person’s life, is intensely rewarding. It’s also important for kids to know how to ask for help, and for their parents to realize how much courage that takes.

When our kids ask, we really want to be able to say “yes”…and we do that as often as we can. But there are times when “no” is the most loving and helpful answer. I’m still working on learning that one.

Learning to Walk...Again

There is something humbling about taking something you already know how to do and trying to learn a new way to do it. Sometimes this is forced on us, due to an injury or other disability, and other times it is a conscious choice…to expand our awareness, skills, and abilities.

I’ve had this experience before when I taught myself to knit left-handed. I had decades of experience knitting right-handed, but as soon as I turned my knitting around, I was suddenly a novice…again. I learned patience and humility, and was reminded of the benefits of taking new things slowly – adding to your expectations as the motions start to feel more natural. As far as problems, mistakes, and frustrations go, most of them resolve on their own with additional practice. As I’ve regularly told my knitting students, we’ll just worry about the problems that won’t go away.

When I decided to kick off my shoes nearly two years ago (literally, and for as long and as much as possible), I figured I would need to allow time for my feet to toughen up, but overall I thought going barefoot would be pretty straight forward. I mean, sheesh, I already knew how to walk. I’ve been doing it since I was nine months old. (It’s true. I was an early walker.) So how hard could it be to just kick off my shoes?

Well, it turns out that barefoot walking is not the same as shoe walking. In fact, the only thing the two really have in common is that you are upright and putting one foot in front of the other. Aside from that, I can point out far more differences than similarities.

The two biggest differences are stride length and how your forward foot hits the ground. When wearing shoes, we learn to take long strides and hit the ground with our heel first. When walking barefoot, your stride is shorter and the ball of your foot is what comes in contact with the ground first…your heel coming down last.

I learned pretty quickly that walking barefoot was not just about kicking off one’s shoes. I had to abandon my old ways of walking and become a novice again. I found myself reading books and watching videos to learn how to walk barefoot. As frustration and confidence have taken their turns over the past couple of years of my barefooting journey, I’ve had to tell myself the same things I regularly tell my knitting students: Relax. You can do it. It’s easy once you learn how. Find your natural rhythm and it will become second nature.

Frustration kicked in again recently when I kept getting early-stage blisters on the balls of my feet, making it painful to walk barefoot. This has been an ongoing challenge. Clearly this was a problem that wouldn’t go away until I learned something new and changed how I was walking. After a day or two of wallowing in my frustration and sore feet, I took a deep breath and did some more research.

My problems seem to be related to poor posture, over-striding, and horizontal friction when the ball of my foot connects with the ground. (Thanks to Steven Sashan of Xero Shoes for the helpful info on his website!) So it’s time to take a couple of steps backwards and walk shorter distances until the adjustments I need to make start feeling more natural and become second nature.

Step-by-step we learn new things…sometimes more literally than others.

First Days

We thought we would be firm. We thought we would be able to teach our new puppy to sleep downstairs on his own. We are the humans. He is the dog. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. Or so we thought.

After bringing our new puppy home, we made up a bed for him in the kitchen. Our three kids and I took turns sleeping near him or with him, in an attempt to help him feel more comfortable in his new surroundings. After a couple of nights of this, it was time to work on a more long-term solution. My longing for a full night’s sleep was becoming quite compelling. It was time to be firm. Kids in their own bed, me in mine, and the puppy in his. I put the pup in his bed and said good night.

It didn’t take long for him to start crying. Cries of loneliness, fear, and abandonment. He was barely 9 weeks old. Taken from his mom sooner than either of them cared for. Separated from his sister at the pet store…the only family bond he had left. And now he was in a strange house with strangers, who have abandoned him to sleep alone, in an empty room, through the dark, lonely night.

The puppy seems to like being with us, I thought while lying in bed listening to his cries. He’ll get used to sleeping on his own. That will never happen if I give in now. But he likes being held, cuddled, and comforted. He just wants to be with us. To not feel so alone. He’s so small and so young. Give it a bit longer and see if he settles down. Dum dee dum dee dum. Nope. I can’t just let him cry. What if he wakes the kids? He’s still getting to know us. Still adjusting to his strange, new home. He sounds so sad! How long has he been crying? Only five minutes. Yikes! This is going to be a long night.

I went downstairs. He was SO happy to see me. What a welcome for someone he just met a couple of days ago, and had only been apart from for five minutes. I picked him up and took him to the couch. If I sleep with him on the couch, it’s not like I’m giving in. The couch is different from our bed. He’ll know that.

It took a little while for him to settle down, but soon he was cuddled next to me. What if I roll over on him? He’s so darn little…just 1-1/2 pounds. I’ll have to learn to be cautious. To be aware of him even when I’m asleep, or when I’m just waking up. My mom-radar is already switched on for the kids. I’ll just fine-tune it to include puppies. Sleep soon happened for both of us, but it wasn’t a restful night for me. The couch is not my preferred bed.

As we approached bedtime on the next night, I wasn’t thrilled about sleeping on the couch again. My fatigue was a growing issue that needed addressing. And so, a decision was made. I needed a decent night’s sleep. The way to achieve that was to give this young puppy what he so desperately needed…comfort, contact, and a sense of security. Booboo, who now finally had a name, would be sleeping with us. And so it went for the next fifteen years.

Chuck says that this was the first reality-check for him regarding the dog. The awareness that this puppy might end up being our dog, rather than the kids’ dog. Years later when the kids grew up and moved out, one-by-one, and didn’t take Booboo with them, his suspicions were finally confirmed. I, on the other hand, knew from the beginning that Booboo would be with me and Chuck for the distance. As much as he was a family dog, the long-term bond was between Booboo and me.

As Booboo settled in, we began teaching him things that were necessary for us to get along well together. Things like doing his piddles and poos outside or on the newspaper, not biting too hard when playing, and not barking excessively. At the same time, we realized that he was teaching us as well…bedtime for him was 9pm, don’t play too rough, remember to fill his water dish, and take him along when we go on an outing. As the years went by, it became difficult to say for sure who was teaching whom. Knowledge and learning was happening both ways. Did we teach him or did he teach us? Regardless of the direction of the lesson, learning was definitely happening…and in hindsight, it was I who benefited the most. Some of the lessons were direct from Booboo to me, and yet many more were indirect, through shared experiences and challenges that I would not have encountered without him.

A definite bond has evolved between dogs and humans. It got its start some 50,000-ish years ago when dogs agreed to be the first domesticated animal. When a dog joins a human family, he takes his place within the pack and strives to achieve and maintain a strong, positive relationship with his human companions. Dogs have learned to trust, depend on, collaborate with, protect, and love their human families. And just as each human has individual needs, quirks, personality traits, and a unique perspective on life and its situations, so do dogs. We can learn much from each other, if we take the time to see the world through the other’s eyes.

Walking Barefoot

I have been washing my feet a lot lately. Every night, in fact. It has become a ritual; a way of ending the day and preparing for my night’s sleep. This is different from taking a bath or shower, where one’s feet just happen to get clean in the process. Instead, this is focused attention on just my feet, one at a time… gently, lovingly, appreciatively.

As I wash, I get to know each foot a bit better. I rub the soap between my toes, around my heel, and across the ball of my foot – which is becoming increasingly smooth and leathery. I feel the muscles that have grown stronger, now that they’re finally being used again, providing the arch support as nature intended. I check for any minor injuries and give those a bit of extra attention and care.

As I wash my left foot, I always pause at the scar on my ankle bone. It’s slightly over an inch long and at an angle that goes from my heel to my instep. For me, this scar represents the epitome of human arrogance. A physical manifestation of science and medicine believing it can improve on nature.

This scar sometimes makes me sad, sometimes angry, but mostly it makes me determined. It reminds me how disconnected people can become from nature’s design. How much we expect science, technology, and “experts” to solve our problems… and the many new problems that this path creates. How often we look for a new “fix” to an existing problem, rather than letting go of the previous fix that created it.

When faced with an incompatibility between nature and science (my foot and shoes), the doctor told my Mom that nature was at fault and needed to be altered. He could have concluded that there was something wrong with my shoes, or even all shoes, but that’s not what he was trained to do.

The unspoken motto of modern medicine is, “When in doubt, do something.” And often the more invasive the better, because at least you’re taking action, you’re trying, you’re doing your best to remedy the problem. Non-action makes doctors uncomfortable. Just go to a doctor with a problem and say “no, thanks” to all their drugs and procedures, and you’ll see what I mean. Society has also been trained to feel uncomfortable with inaction. “I have a problem. Aren’t you going to do something to help fix it?!” We have lost our faith in nature, in the human body’s ability to heal.

The idea that either doing nothing or un-doing something is often the best course of action is way too radical for most people to handle. In a society where doing nothing or doing less is considered lazy, non-productive, and shows a lack of caring, we often feel forced to take action…even if such action doesn’t help or actually makes the problem worse.

What was the human creation that caused problems for my left foot? Shoes. And the solution that science and medicine came up with to fix that problem? Alter my ankle bone to fit the shoes better.

I was nine or ten years old. Shoes regularly rubbed my left ankle bone, making it sore. Going with the accepted course of action for the period (the 1960’s), I was taken to a doctor to find a solution to this problem. The doctor concluded that my left ankle bone was too big, giving fault to my body rather than the shoes. If the bone was shaved down a bit, making it smaller, shoes would no longer rub that area – thus solving my problem. This is the course of action that was taken.

The surgery itself was not traumatic for me. Reducing the size of my ankle bone solved the specific problem I was having. Medical intervention for physical problems was accepted in our family. It’s only in hindsight that I’ve been bothered; when I look back on what the decision meant, what it says about our way of thinking, our disconnection with nature, our willingness to embrace significant intervention rather than altering or letting go of previous human creations.

It also shows how the solution that seems obvious to me now, going barefoot as much as possible, didn’t even occur to us as an option back then. I have the same problem when I try to imagine how my life would have been different if I had been homeschooled or unschooled, as we did with our own children. Clearly that never would have happened. It wasn’t even considered an option; not even a flicker of the imagination. If we can’t even imagine it, it probably won't happen.

When walking barefoot, I find the reactions I get from people to be fascinating. Frequently a person will comment that they wish they could walk barefoot, but quickly conclude that they can't for a small variety of reasons. Rather than concluding that they can't, however, if they instead asked, "What would it take for me to be able to walk barefoot?" the door to a barefoot future might start to open.

Fear of Strangers

We had just finished an errand at the newspaper office. My son, who was three or four at the time, was sitting on the top step enjoying the sunshine, while I read the paper several feet away. A man came out of the newspaper office and Lewis immediately started a conversation with him. Lewis invited him to sit down and relax on the stairs with him, which the man did. They chatted for a while about a variety of topics. Lewis invited him over to our house, and the man politely decined the invitation. Soon goodbyes were said and they both went their separate ways. What makes this incident so unusual, is that the man my son was talking to was a stranger.

As children we were regularly told not to talk to strangers. On the surface it may seem logical to instruct our children to do the same, due to a natural fear of the unknown, but let's take a closer look at it. 

First of all, do strangers truly pose that big of a threat? Sure, there are cases of abduction and molestation of children by strangers, but that is actually a very small percentage of the cases of abuse and kidnapping. A child is much more likely to be taken or abused by a relative, friend, neighbor, or trusted aquaintance. In other words, people the child knows, people who are not strangers. So to tell our children that strangers are dangerous and people we know are good, not only doesn't help them, it's just not true.

The second issue is that of making new friends - of all ages. If strangers are dangerous and you're not allowed to talk to them, how can you ever begin new friendships? And even worse, if your child is in trouble and needs help, how can he ask for it if he's not supposed to talk to strangers?

In raising our children, we tossed out the "don't talk to strangers" rule early on. Instead, we teach our children how to be careful and to trust their gut feeling if something seems wrong, regardless of whether they're talking to a stranger or to someone they know. We've eliminated the fear associated with strangers, and instead given them judgment skills they can use in all situations.

By getting rid of the fear, we are empowering our chilren. I've read more than once that if you want to minimize your chances of being the target of an attack, you should start by walking with your head up and with a confident stride. When a child is afraid of strangers, he will keep his head down to avoid eye contact, and will shy away from strangers as they pass. Without the fear, a child can greet each passerby with a smile, hold her head up, and walk in a direct and confident manner.

The other thing we gain by being accepting of strangers is a sense of community. Can you imagine a town where no one spoke to anyone they didn't know? You would have a town full of strangers who were fearful and suspicious of each other. This is the case in most large cities. Now imagine a town where everyone greeted each other with a smile and a "hello," regardless of whether they knew each other or not. After two or three meetings, perhaps a "hello" would develop into a conversation, and then maybe a friendship. Now we have a community where strangers don't remain strangers for very long.

A child's fear of strangers comes from her parents. This fear causes parents to cling tighter to their children, and to put their own peace of mind above the child's need to develop a sense of independence and confidence. We would be helping our children so much more by giving them the skills they need to be one their own, and giving them more and more opportunities to try those skills out. 

The people around us are like mirrors. If we frown and look suspiciously at them, they will do the same in return. Soon the distrust can grow and eventually turn into dislike - on both sides. If we greet others with a smile, however, we will often receive the same in return. Now the door to trust and friendship has been opened.

Talking to strangers is something my children do regularly. If they have a question while at a store or restaurant, they will walk up to the sales clerk or waitperson and ask it. If they see a person in need, they will offer a smile or even part of their allowance. If they are playing a game, they will invite those around them to join in - regardless of age. And, if a situation arises that make them nervous, whether they're with a stranger or someone they know, they know what they can do to get themselves in a safer environment.

So, take a deep breath and give your child a bit of freedom. The more faith you have in them, the more faith they will have in themselves. Gradually you can both feel comfortable with greater degrees of independence. And if you happen to see my children on the street, feel free to say "hello" to them.

This article was originally published August 1995 in Parent Guide, a SLO County newspaper.

Learning to Make Choices

The subject of children and schooling frequently comes up in conversations I have with people. When they learn that we homeschool, they are often interested to find out more about it. If they also homeschool their children, it's fun to share our experiences and philosophies. But when people find out that our two girls are homeschooled and our son goes to public school, they ask why we chose to send him to public school. When I respond, "We asked him if he wanted to homeschool or go to Kindergarten,  and he chose public school," I frequently get a look of surprise and disbelief. The expression says, "How can you let a child decide for himself what's best for him?"

In my attempt to prepare my children for adulthood, I've tried to figure out what it means to be an adult. Obviously responsibility is a big factor, but what is it we're responsible for? We're responsible for the choices we make. We're responsible for how our choices affect ourselves, and the people and world around us. If you think about it, any given day is filled with one choice after another - how many times to push the snooze button on the alarm clock, whether to make lunch for your kids or let them buy it at school, whether or not to break the speed limit law to get somewhere on time, to decide where you stand on political issues, whether or not to make a large purchase, and on and on throughout each day.

If our major task as adults is to make choices, then why don't we give our children more freedom to practice and fine tune that skill? From the beginning, children usually have their choices made for them - what school to go to, religious beliefs, what activities to be involved in, which drugs are okay to take, when to have sex, which political group is the right one, and so on. If they're lucky, they may get to choose what to wear and can suggest which activities they prefer, but too often children are told what to do and what to not do until they're 18 years old. Then they're expected to magically be able to make responsible choices from then on. No wonder college students tend to get a bit crazy. They finally have the freedom they've been longing for, but very few decision making skills. So their choices aren't always responsible or beneficial, for themselves or anyone else.

Whenever possible, we try to give our three children the freedom to make their own choices; not just on what flavor ice cream they want, but on important issues like whether they feel homeschool or public school would best meet their needs. Each year we let them decide for themselves what schooling environment they would like for the following year. They are given guidelines about their choices in advance. Whichever they choose, they have to do their best and stick with it for the whole year. 

For next year, our oldest daughter has chosen to continue homeschooling and our son will be going to first grade at our local public school (although he recently informed me he plans to homeschool for second grade). Our middle daughter agonized over the choices for several months, weighing the pros and cons of each option. She has homeschooled for a year and a half, and would like to go back to our local public school for third grade, but the one year commitment had her stuck. She was afraid she might get a bad teacher and then not like school. We came to the agreement that if she had any serious problems that we couldn't resolve with the teacher or principal, we would pull her out and she could homeschool for the rest of the year. With that, she made her choice to go to public school for third grade.

By allowing our children to make important choices for themselves, they learn how to make decisions by weighing the pros and cons of each option. By giving them guidelines to which they must adhere, they learn to take responsibility for their choices. By respecting their choices, they learn that their opinion has value and that they have some control over their lives. All this gives a boost to both their self-worth and their self-esteem.

Another way to help our children learn how to make choices is to invite them to help with our adult decisions. Show them how you go about researching each side of an issue. Once you've gathered the information, write down the pros and cons of each option. Explain to them how you decide which choice is best for you. Show them how you choose between political candidates, whether to vote for or against a proposition, whether or not to take out a loan to buy a new car or house, why you choose to support local stores rather than large chains, how you decide when it's necessary to see a doctor, and so on.

Open up the communication. Talk about things that are largely considered taboo - like death and funerals, sex and sex-related issues, and even finances. In a Human Sexuality class I took a few years ago, our instructor asked us to guess what people are most reluctant to talk about. Rape, incest, child molestation, homosexuality, sexual fantasies - these were all thrown out and to each the instructor replied, "Nope. They'll talk about all that. What they won't talk about," he finally told us, "is their finances." How can we expect our children to make sound financial decisions if no one is even talking about it, let alone showing them how to do it? Show your kids how much money you make, what your rent or mortgage payments are, and what all your other expenses are. Work together on making up a budget and sticking to it. Save up for a vacation together or plan a family purchase that can be enjoyed by all.

In addition to improving your child's decision making skills and giving him some control over his life, the fact that the activity is your child's choice allows him to do it willingly. Since going to school is my son's choice, he realizes that based on that choice, he needs to go to bed earlier and get up earlier than his sisters. He's going to school because he wants to, so he enjoys it more and learns more.

As adults we know how good it feels to have control over the direction of our lives and to have our choices respected. Children are no different. Let them practice the decision making skills they will need as adults. While giving them as much freedom as possible, establish some guidelines so their choices are within the boundaries of the law and respectful of your needs and limitations. Then respect their choices. Some choices will be better than others, but they will appreciate the good and learn from the bad, just like we all do. Then, just maybe, when they get to be college age and one of their freedom-crazy friends says, "Let's go get some cheap wine, drive around, and T.P. someone's house," your child (who has learned to think for herself) might say, "Why? I don't see the value in it, and that wouldn't be respectful of myself or the people and world around me." Well, who knows. It could happen.

This article was originally published July 1995 in Parent Guide, a SLO County newspaper.

Follow Your Own Drumbeat

When it comes to my children's artistic endeavors, I am frequently a source of frustration for them. When they bring one of their creations to me and ask how I like it, I always respond, "How do you like it?" "Mom, why do you always say that?" my son will exclaim in an exasperated tone. I will then remind him that my opinion about his efforts doesn't matter. What's important is whether or not he's satisfied with what he's done. If there's some aspect of his work he wants to improve, I'll gladly help him do it. But if he's satisfied with his accomplishment, then so am I.

So, what's the harm in telling my kids my opinion about their work? If I tell my child I dislike her drawing, or if I criticize some aspect of it, she would be crushed; and rightly so. What she would hear is that she's not good enough. If I tell her I like it, there's two problems. First, I'm creating a dependence on my approval, which is something I don't want to do. I want my children to be satisfied with meeting their own expectations, rather than constantly trying to please others. Secondly, if my child is not completely satisfied with it herself, she may take my compliment as something coming from a mother blinded by love (which is probably true), or she might think I wasn't looking very closely at her drawing, otherwise I would have seen what was bothering her about it. Either way, my opinion does not help the situation at all. The bottom line is that my opinion is irrelevant.

Rather than having my child's work presented to me expecting to receive my seal of approval, I would prefer to have my child tell me about her drawing. Why did she choose the subject matter? Was she trying to tell a story? How did she use her tools to create the look she wanted? What about color - were they randomly selected or is there some meaning to them? To work hard on something, put your heart and soul into it, and then have some other person determine whether it's good or bad, just doesn't make sense to me. Having my child tell me about her creation is infinitely more beneficial, for both of us, than my telling her whether or not I like it. 

Judgment is far too commonplace in our society. We get graded in school, performance reviews at work, there are winners and losers in most of our recreational activities, and we often willingly enter contests to have our abilities compared to others and rated. Judgment is so much a part of our lives that we too often value other people's opinions over our own. When we constantly look to others to tell us what to do, how to do it, and whether or not we're good enough at it, we pretty soon stop thinking for ourselves. This is not what I want for my children.

We all try out a variety of skills over the course of our lives. We may learn to draw, play an instrument, sew, dance, fix our plumbing, or develop photographs. But we have the freedom to choose which ones we want to learn about in depth, and which ones we just want some basic skills in. If all you want to do is fix your toilet, you don't need to become a master plumber. Just because you like to play the piano, doesn't mean you have to become a concert pianist. However, if you find you truly enjoy sewing and want to improve your skills to a professional level, that's your choice. No one else should be telling you which skills you should pursue for fun and which ones you should strive to excel in. That's a personal decision that only you should make.

Children have a right to that same freedom and respect. If they want to draw, their skills should meet their own standards. They can choose to do it just for fun, or work to refine and perfect their technique. By encouraging our children to judge their own work, rather than relying on someone else's opinion, they learn to analyze, problem solve, and get in touch with their own goals and interests, rather than feeling inferior or defensive in response to someone's opinion. When we respect and support our children's choices, we are teaching them to trust and value their own feelings and perspective.

This is why I answer their question with a question. When asked, "Do you like my drawing?" and I reply, "How do you like it?" my oldest daughter will sometimes say, "But I want your opinion." To this I respond, "Who's opinion is more important - yours or mine?" She knows the answer I expect from this, and so replies with a smile, "Mine." I may be their mother, but each of my children have to decide for themselves what they need to keep their lives happy, interesting, and fulfilling. They may as well start figuring it all out now.

This article originally published March 1995 in Parent Guide, a SLO County newspaper.