Sometime You Just Have to Be Thirsty
Gen-X Parenting Is a Win-Win, Part 2
This is the second of four posts on how we can make family life happier and more appealing for everyone. I believe that Gen-X parenting is not only easier for parents but also better for kids. A win-win! Here are the other posts in the series:
Fight the Fertility Crisis with One Weird Trick
Hey Kids! Get on My Lawn!
Hard-Won Wisdom
A few years back, a parenting column discussed a dad and his son, who were on the subway.1 The little boy was whining for a drink of water, and the columnist overheard the dad tell his son, “Sometimes you just have to be thirsty.” The columnist thought that this dad was horrible, and most of the commenters agreed. They made uncharitable remarks about the supposed incompetence and fecklessness of dads. Why hadn’t the dad remembered to take along a water bottle? How could he be so uncaring?
The rest of us might agree, though, that this dad was doing a fine job. His son wasn’t going to die of thirst. He was just mildly and temporarily uncomfortable, an experience that we all have now and again. The dad was giving his son the opportunity to practice managing his feelings—and also encouraging him to learn to take a drink of water before leaving the house.
Thank You for Your Contribution to Grief and Suffering
Many years ago, my father-in-law, a child psychiatrist, submitted an article to a book titled On Grief and Suffering and received an acknowledgement that began, “Thank you for your contribution to Grief and Suffering.” We might laugh, but the acknowledgment contains a truth: Simply by existing in the world, we experience and also contribute to grief and suffering. Sometimes we just have to be thirsty, and sometimes we have to allow our loved ones to be thirsty too.
Gen-X parenting is the opposite of gentle parenting and bulldozer parenting, where well-meaning adults desperately attempt to eliminate suffering from children’s lives. We Gen-Xers had parents who were far too busy with adult concerns to micromanage us. This hands-off approach didn’t make our lives perfect and painless, but our parents did something much better for us: They helped us learn to cope with discomfort and deal with our problems ourselves.
We Can Do Hard Things
I think some people choose gentle and bulldozer parenting because they’re psychologically easier than the alternative. For example, people who were raised by authoritarian, unsympathetic parents may react to their childhood suffering by becoming overly permissive and sympathetic with their own kids. All parents know that it is a bummer to deal with our kids’ anger and disappointment when we say no to them. And there is nothing more painful for us parents than watching our kids suffer,2 so of course we want to rush in and fix everything. But doing the hard things first pays off in the long run.
Here’s a story to illustrate what I mean. When our daughter, Casey, was in elementary school, she had a friend, Thomas,3 who came over for frequent playdates. Unfortunately, Thomas’s sister, Molly, was terrified of dogs, including our amiable, lazy basset hound.
Every time Thomas’s mom, Mary, brought Thomas and Molly over, Molly shrieked in terror the moment she saw our dog. Mary would hug Molly and say, sympathetically, “Dogs are so scary, aren’t they? Their barking is so loud. Remember the black lab we saw that time? He had such BIG SHARP TEETH!” I do get why Mary reacted this way. It was wrenching to see Molly so afraid. But Mary’s extravagant sympathy just fed Molly’s fears.
I have a dog in this fight (tee hee), because we had faced a similar issue in our own family a few years earlier. When our son, Noah, was in preschool, he was scared of dogs. I knew Noah would be happier if he could conquer his fear, so I enlisted the help of my neighbor Pat. At my request, Pat brought her calm and affectionate cocker spaniel, Toby, to our yard a few afternoons in a row. Noah and I went outside, Pat made Toby sit, and I sat on the ground next to Noah as Pat talked with him and encouraged him to pet Toby. After a couple of tentative moments, Noah came to love Toby—and, rapidly, all of the dogs, all of the time. In fact, Noah may love dogs even more than I do, if such a thing is possible.
The joy that dogs bring to Noah’s life is an apt reward for the effort we put in together to overcome, rather than indulge, his fear.
Case Studies
Below are three more examples where Gen-X parenting is a win-win.
Case 1: When I was in kindergarten, I was unimaginably poky. Every morning my mom had to rouse me, race around pushing me to get ready, and hustle me out the door to catch the bus. This was quite stressful for everyone!
What would you do if you were my mom?
The gentle-parenting playbook tells parents to take responsibility for making the morning as easy as possible for children. Parents are supposed to pack the lunch and backpack the night before, line up shoes and coat by the door, wake kids up early, and so on. Parents take on all the stress so that children can sail through their mornings.
Here’s what my mom did: She got tired of chivvying me along every day, and so one morning she stopped—and I missed the bus. Natural consequences for the win! Mom packed my brother in the stroller, and the three of us walked the mile and a half to school. I arrived about an hour late and had to check in at the principal’s office. I did NOT want to go through that again! My mom’s strategy cured me of my pokiness painlessly and permanently.
Case 2: When I was in high school, I sang in the choir. Our director, Mr. Hansen, couldn’t play the piano, and so I also served as the rehearsal pianist, accompanied the choir in concerts, ran sectionals, and came in at 6:30am once a week to accompany the motet choir.
Mr. Hansen had a rule that when we performed with the band and orchestra, we had to sit through the entire concert. This was a good rule, of course. Unfortunately for me, in the middle of one concert I suddenly became sick. I stuck it out through the choir’s portion but then told Mr. Hansen I was sick and went home. On my first day back at school, I learned that Mr. Hansen was going to punish everyone who had left the concert early by dropping our trimester grade one whole letter. I thought this was incredibly unfair.
What would you do if you were my parents?
Bulldozer parents would march straight to the principal’s office to complain. Heck, they might even threaten the school district with a lawsuit.
Here’s what my parents did: They agreed with me that Mr. Hansen’s decision was unfair, and they said they would come with me to meet with him. But I had to do the talking myself. I planned out my argument—reminding Mr. Hansen that I left because I was sick and that I did a lot of extra work for the choir—and practiced it with my mom. During the meeting, my parents sat next to me for moral support, but they let me take the lead. It was difficult for me to talk with Mr. Hansen. I was so angry that I started to cry. But I managed to make my case, and Mr. Hansen rescinded my punishment. I was proud of myself and grateful to my parents.
Case 3: One morning when Casey was little, we visited a museum with her grandma Louise and her younger cousin. Because Casey is disabled, she was exhausted from walking through the museum, and so I planned to take her home. Her cousin wanted us to come to a second museum with her. She was too young to understand that Casey was disabled, and she became upset when I said that Casey had to go home.
What would you do if you were Louise?
I can just picture a gentle parent ratcheting up a distraught preschooler with elaborate empathizing—“You’re sad because you love your cousin and want to be with her! It can be really tough to feel so sad and upset!” Ugh. Bulldozer parents, for their part, might have tried to browbeat me into dragging Casey to the second museum.
Here’s what Louise did: She kindly but firmly told Casey’s cousin, “I’m sorry you’re disappointed, but Casey needs to go home. I can take you to another museum, or we can all go home with Casey. You can choose.” She thought about it for a moment and then cheerfully chose to go home with Casey.
Inner Freedom
Readers may feel that I am being hard on gentle parenting.4 Fair enough. I am by nature introverted and independent, and so for me there would be no hotter hell than to have a gentle parent enmesh herself in my feelings—hovering, sympathizing, ruminating, and (as we saw with Molly) escalating. How exhausting! When I get angry or sad, the last thing I want is a bunch of people encumbering me with help. I prefer to work out my feelings on a vigorous hike or by snuggling with my dog. So that’s my bias.
But even kids who are extroverted or extra-sensitive could benefit from the Gen-X approach, because it preserves their autonomy. No parent wants to deprive their children of inner freedom, but, as the philosopher Slavoj Žižek argues, that is exactly what gentle parenting does.
Besides, the gentle and bulldozer approaches are impractical. Take it from an empty-nester: Our kids will leave us one day (or at least we hope they will). When they get thirsty, we won’t be there to hand them a water bottle. Our job is to help children grow into resilient adults who can deal with adversity, solve their own problems, and also remember to drink some water when they’re thirsty.
How about you, readers? What parenting approach have you found effective, either from your own or from your kids’ childhoods? Please share your thoughts and strategies in the comments!
The Tidbit
We can’t fix our kids’ friendship dramas, academic setbacks, or ordinary sadness (nor ought we, as I’ve argued here). But we can at least distract them with something silly. Here are a few dopey jokes that kids will like:
This site is a treasure trove of silly kid jokes. For example:
Knock, knock! Who’s there? Figs. Figs who? Figs the doorbell.
And here are a couple of jokes for Star Wars fans:
Q: Why are the Star Wars movies numbered 4, 5, 6, 1, 2, 3?
A: In charge of planning Yoda was.
Q: What is Yoda’s last name?
A: Layheehoo.
I have not been able to find this particular column, but I think it was the now-defunct Motherlode blog at the New York Times.
I mean this literally. When my kids were little and hurt themselves, I used to feel actual pain on my own body at the sites of their owies.
All names in this paragraph except Casey’s are pseudonyms.
Bulldozer parenting, on the other hand, deserves every bit of the shade I have thrown at it here.
I think a problem with gentle parenting is that it is vaguely defined, and a lot of people who specifically identify as gentle parents take it way over the top.
But to me, Louise's response actually contains elements of gentle parenting by my definition. She acknowledged the child's emotions with "I know you are frustrated."
I'm biased in a different direction as a Millennial (albeit an older one) but I think a lot of old school parenting was missing this approach all together (think "stop crying!) so we've overcorrected.
My story isn't exactly what you're talking about, but related. Our kids all got a free bus pass as transportation for their arts high school, which was downtown Pittsburgh. There were parents in Pittsburgh who did not agree with us having our kids take the bus to school and wherever else they wanted to go. But it was wonderful for the kids, who became experts at the bus schedule, figuring out which bus they needed to take to meet up with their friends. Arthur and I appreciated not having to drive them around everywhere, so it was definitely a win-win. The kids learned autonomy and competence and Arthur and I had more free time. Plus, the kids knew we would come get them if something went wrong and they needed a lift. To me, that's the balance that is key to good parenting: helping your kids feel solid while also being there if they need you. They need to balance out security and autonomy. Over-identifying with your kids won't accomplish that (though sometimes it's hard not to), and behaving tyrannically towards them, or like a bulldozer, certainly won't.
Nice column, Mari.