Oh the irony - a post about haircuts and spankings

My Mom and Dad went to New York this weekend to be present at the very, very small wedding of my Dad's cousin, Johnny. It was so small, that with the addition of my parents, the total people present at the wedding - including the bride and groom and pastor -- was 5.

On the way back, Dad and Mom stopped at our house for breakfast. Lester made pancakes from scratch. I made cinnamon apples. We ate until we were stuffed, and sat around the table talking about the latest NFL scandal involving a football player who "disciplined' his 4-year-old by beating him with a switch until he tore the skin and left marks that were visible three days later. This turned into a debate about spanking vs. not spanking.

While we were debating, the kids were entertaining themselves, sometimes watching TV, sometimes playing with toys, sometimes running through the house making a lot of noise. We pretty much ignored them, because we keep trying not to hover quite so much -- "benign neglect" for their benefit and ours. And the discipline debate was pretty passionate, so we also kinda forgot about them. (Just being honest.)

And then Dean decided to play barber shop and cut two huge chunks out of the side and back of Clair's hair:

This is more hair than it looks like, because her hair is so tightly coiled. Today, my poor daughter has a combover -- a look she will be rocking for many months to come.

I posted this status message on Facebook about it:

Parents and grandparents downstairs at the breakfast table, passionately debating old school vs. new school ways of disciplining children. To make the discussion less hypothetical, my helpful boy decides to cut huge chunks out of Clair's hair. Grandparents leave after breakfast -- smug.

Which makes the irony of it all seem kinda funny. Oh, kids -- they sure have good timing. Ha. Ha. Ha. And I suppose I can see how at a certain point, it will be funny. But believe me, as I combed through her hair and more and more curls kept coming out into my hand, I was almost in tears.

Here's my dirty little secret: I wanted to spank Dean. I really did. I wanted to yell and scream and really punish him. I felt like he needed to know how serious what he did was. I could totally identify with that parental urge to make him understand his crime, and instill in him a fear of repercussions that would make him never, ever do that again.

But I didn't --WE didn't, Lester and I. Instead, we made him go to his room and lie down - separated from us, his grandparents, the TV and the cinnamon apples. He stayed there for three and a half hours (he fell asleep).


If I had not just been arguing with my parents about my belief that we can raise our children to be well-behaved, respectful and good decision makers without spanking them, would I have chosen that way of punishing him? I think I would. I hope I would. And here's why:

Aside from the obvious arguments about respecting a child's personhood, and about the hypocrisy of teaching children not to hit when we, ourselves, him them, I just don't believe in my heart of hearts that spankings work. I think they make children fearful, yes, but not of the thing parents hope. In fact, I think they only serve to make them fear YOU.

I don't want Dean to fear me. What I want is for him to learn to better regulate his impulses. I want him to try harder to remember that scissors are for cutting paper and paper only. And that he is not supposed to even handle scissors when an adult is not around. We've told him these things many times, but I believe this kind of learning takes place over time -- not by dealing a swift blow to knock it out of him once and for all.

I don't want my children to fear me. I want them to love, respect and trust me.  And that won't happen if they think I will hurt them.

Cary, Dean and Clair: I will not hurt you, my littlest loves. I will love you and guide you and teach you and, yes, discipline you. I will make mistakes, that is a guarantee. But I will try my absolute hardest not to ever hurt you. Even when you do ridiculously stupid things like CUT YOUR SISTER'S HAIR, WHICH TOOK THREE FRIKKIN' YEARS TO GET LONG ENOUGH FOR ME TO ACTUALLY STYLE!!!

P.S. Later we found out that Cary was in on the cutting game too; he snipped a little bit of fabric out of Clair's prettiest pink tutu. (Clair was far more upset about that than she was about her hair). By the time the full story unfolded, I was too tapped out from having to put my money where my mouth was to really grasp what happened. Thankfully, Lester had his wits about him and sent Cary to bed too. So when the boys woke up at 3:30, they both had missed lunch. It was too early for dinner, and they both wanted snacks. But I held my ground and didn't give them anything, and I patiently explained why: They missed lunch because they had to go to bed while the rest of us ate, because they both did something very bad. And now they had to wait until dinner to eat. Let me tell you -- this was probably the best punishment I could ever have dreamed up. These kids love to eat -- snacks especially! So I think they got the message. I hope so anyway.

I didn't have to spank them; their little growling bellies were pain and suffering enough!

Finding flaws in your children

When Lester and I were pre-parents, we did a lot of ad hoc interviewing of friends who had kids who seemed normal. We had a lot of questions. Most people had no answers. LOL.

Of the many questions we had, one thing we really wondered was how it was that some parents seemed to be so clueless about their kids' less-than-flattering personality or character traits. How could the mother of the town serial killer insist that her little boy would never hurt a fly? How do parents of bullies not know that their kids are bullies? How do parents say, "Oh she just got in with the wrong crowd," when everyone else in the world knows that your kid IS the wrong crowd?

Do you lose the ability to be a good judge of character when you become a parent? Is love for a child that blinding?

One thing we heard from friends about that is that it is OK to love your kids without idolizing them; it is OK to accept them for who they are without idealizing them. In other words, in order to be the best parent to a child, you must understand exactly who that child is, good and bad, for better or for worse.

And it is with that spirit that I write this post. 

Newsflash: My children have flaws. They are not perfect. They are human beings with good parts and bad parts. I think the good outweighs the bad by a huge, overwhelming quantity.  But...the fact is, these little people have some things about them that need some work.

Let's start with Clair.
She's still pretty new, but I can already see that this girl is SAUCY. She is constantly swatting at us, yelling at us and back-talking in her little gibberish. When you tell her to do something she doesn't want to do, she grunts "UNH!" or does a rude little raspberry thing that drives me bonkers. She is passionate about EVERYTHING, and not always in a good way. She is assertive with other children in a way that borders on aggressive. She is no delicate flower, that one, and can be ...I'll say it...a little bratty. I love her to pieces and she's smart as a whip, but right now she is in need of discipline. With the boys, we waited until about 18 months before we started doing super-quick time-outs, just to arrest undesirable behavior. Clair might not get to 18 months before we start that with her. Seriously.

The good news: All these not-so-nice traits (passion, energy, spunkiness, questioning authority) can be channeled for good, with time and patience and focused parenting. Which is why it is good that we are aware of this in her.

Next up, Dean.
My second-born has a deceptive streak. At the tender age of 3, he has already learned the art of sneakiness and has a talent for finding and exploiting the loopholes in what we think to be clearly-stated rules.
Just this week he told me that "Daddy said we can play in the Pack 'n Play," when I know he did not. And also that "It's OK to play in the Pack 'n Play because Daddy's not here." He also tells me "MiMi forgot to give us our vitamins today," when I can see in the Daily Log that vitamins were doled out with lunch. And he takes extra vitamins or candy, pops them in his mouth, and says, mouth full, "I only have two, see?" (showing the two he has in his hand...)
He blames Cary for all manner of offenses that he, himself, committed. He dramatically feigns tears, or "my tummy hurts" when trying to distract us from chastising him. His little brain is constantly churning: How do I get out of this? How do I get what I want? What adorable little pouty face do I have to make to turn the tide in my favor?
He is a TRIP.

The good news: We can see of course, that this kind of behavior is a form of cleverness, an attempt at outsmarting the powers-that-be. This kind of thing, if channeled correctly, could be useful to him in later years. As his parents, we can help Dean use his powers for good and not evil.
Which is why it is good that we are aware of this in him.

Last but not least, Cary.
This is the one that bothers me the most.
Clair is a baby - she's a soft piece of clay with lots of time for molding. And Dean's flaws, I think, are related to age, mostly. And honestly I think that some of his con-artist-like shenanigans really do signal just how bright he is (too damn bright, if you ask me).
But Cary's issues are more worrisome, because they seem more character-related.
My bookworm, very sweet and Elmo-voiced firstborn can be ... (sigh)... mean.
Not toddler "Mine! Mine!" mean. Not "I'm tired and I'm having a temper-tantrum" mean.
Just plain mean.
He exhibits these tendencies mostly with other children. He yells and speaks harshly. He says things like,  "Go in the house!" or "If you come over here I'm going to smack you." He told a little boy playing near them at the library this weekend, "You have to GO HOME!"
When the kids next door ask for a hug, he yells, "NO!" or says things far worse, such as "No, you're stinky!" I can now count at least three times when he has drawn either the tears or the ire of a child we just met, because of his sharp words and tone. In one case, at a playground, Cary ended up in a chokehold and Lester had to go rescue him. (Kinda serves him right, sad to say it.)
Cary also can be pretty brutal with Clair, which also hurts my feelings. He doesn't seem to have the same kind of tenderness with her that Dean does -- that innate realization that she is 1) a baby and 2) his baby sister. Seventy-five percent of the time, he is indifferent to her. But the other 25-percent, he snatches from her, teases her, refuses her just about anything she wants. He often blocks her from playing with them. He yells at her and causes her to lash out. (Clair, to be sure, gives as good as she gets. She can fend for herself, for the most part. But what kind of thing is that to say about siblings? Father God, I sure wish they'd play more harmoniously.)

I try to address this behavior every single time I see it. I even try, during moments when he is being quite pleasant, to hug him and say, Hey Cary, Mommy loves it when you're being such a kind brother or good friend ... or whatever. I've put him in time-out for really major infractions (throwing a friend's toy in the street, for example). And I've told him under no uncertain terms that if he can't be kind to his friends that he won't be allowed to play with them. I've modeled for him what "being nice" sounds like: "Hi. My name is Cary. Would you like to play?" "May I throw the Frisbee next?" Etc.
But so far...my boy is still kinda mean.

Needless to say, I don't like that at ALL. I can deal with a lot of behavior issues in kids, and I know that everybody has bad days and lash-out moments. But at the end of the day it is very important to me that my children are kind, gracious and loving people.

I know we exhibit goodness in our house -- we go overboard to show love and kindness and generosity not just to them but to other people. But still... I can't help but wonder if there's something we're doing wrong. Is it because I yell sometimes? (Yes, judgy-folks, I do yell sometimes.) Is it because we kept them at home and sheltered so long? Should we have separated the two boys in school so that Cary is forced to be friendly with other kids, and not just solely play with Dean (which is what he does)?

The good news: He is very protective of and good to Dean, his favorite person. And he is very affectionate with me and with his lovey and to little creepy-crawly things and with Nana and Granddad. So it just seems to me that he likes who he likes and has to be taught that he still has to outwardly show kindness, even when he doesn't feel like it.
I do believe we can get a handle on this (hopefully) with time, attention, love and focus.
Which is why -- again -- it's good that we're aware of it.

Anyway, I'd like to think that taking note of our children's less-than-admirable qualities will help us parent them as they grow and develop. So instead of worrying about these issues, or pathologizing them (as my friend Shreya, the child psychologist would say), we will simply address them.

We will address them with the recognition that my children are wonderful, amazing, awesome human beings who we are already so, so proud of. And we will address them always, always with 100-percent unconditional love. No matter what.

(P.S. I hope that Cary, Dean and Clair will go back through this blog and see where I have praised, gushed and oozed nothing but pure joy and pride about them 98 percent of the time.)