What Is A Good Baby?

WHY THIS BLOG?

2009-11-16T14:01:00.001-08:00

Monday, November 16, 2009
WHY THIS BLOG?

After I had given birth to each of my children, I was surprised at how many people asked if I had a "good baby". The list included friends, family, not to mention, strangers on the street!

What did people mean when they were asking if I had a “good baby?”

I came to the answer fairly quickly. A “good baby” was not overly fussy or cried often. A “good baby” didn’t scream too much and slept through the night with regular naps. A “good baby” nursed or bottle fed well (not too much, not too little) and smiled often, indicative of his/her friendliness. A “good baby” would let the parent put them down, let a family friend hold them. A “good baby” would be relaxed during transitions, such as diaper changes, baths and bedtimes. The list seemed endless.

I soon learned that people were not asking if I had a “good” baby. People were asking me if I had an “easy” baby. I became fascinated with the idea that “good” seemed synonymous with “easy” and the ways that this extended into the toddler years and beyond. And then I began to realize something else. People weren’t really asking me if I had an “easy” baby. After all, behavior that may have frustrated and upset me as a new mother may have had no negative impact on a different parent. And something that I experienced no problems or issues with regarding my baby’s behavior may have aggravated another mother or father to no end.

I began to realize that people weren’t really asking me about my child. Without being aware of it, the question, in actuality, was “Mom, how are you doing with this new child? What is this stirring up for you? Are you okay”? It became very clear that there was confusion about where the “goodness” of the child ended and where the normal and healthy parental reactions to exhaustion or frustration began.

We can become so angry and worried when faced with some very negative "acting out" behavior. We can feel victimized or helpless- as though we can't do anything right. We can worry if our child is a good enough person, if we are good enough parents. We can fear that the characteristics we see in our children will damage our child's chance for a happy and healthy future. We can fear our own future pain at witnessing our child's potential unhappiness.

This blog is an attempt to normalize childhood and parenting. The stories given here can be commented on and added to. Please feel free to send your own stories--you and your child's experiences can provide relief for others who wonder if something is "wrong" with their child or "wrong" with their parenting. Just leave your story under the comments sections after each story and I will post them in full or you can e-mail your stories to ronit@goodchildren.org. I look forward to posting you!
Posted by Good Baby at 11:21 AM

November Story

2009-11-16T11:21:00.000-08:00

So we've been having several months of tantrums. No, no, not the ordinary one or two a day. More like five or six. More like whatever we say, do, apparently, the way we breathe (deep breathing during particularly frustrating moments) appears to be incorrect according to our four and a half year old daughter. But overnight the girl sleeps! It is a tantrum free time. It is. IT IS.

Well, we knocked that theory out of the park this weekend. I went to bed at 10 pm, completely exhausted and desperately needing more than the typical six hour rest. At 11:30, my daughter woke me by screaming her head off. Apparantly she had a leak through her Pull-up. This has happened before and she has drowsily allowed us to change her, sometimes the bed, tuck her back in and end the procedure. Not this night.

First, she screamed because she was wet, then she screamed because she didn't want to be changed. Then, when my husband began changing the bed, she screamed because her stuffed animals were out of order.

I tried (completely unsuccessfully) to shush her. I kept waiting for my two and a half year old to wake up in the next room, calling "OK, it's morning! I'm ready to get up!" All I could think was:

I need sleep- I have to get up at six for work- this is supposed to be time out time! This is not fair!

I was feeling angrier and angrier which made me even more angry because I knew I would have to calm down before my body would allow me to go back to sleep.

It took an hour for her to calm down enough for us to dress her and put her back to bed. I still don't know what the hell happened and probably never will. The only thing that keeps me sane in those moments is to know that you parents out there have been in that same position or one as ridiculously exhausting and exasperating.
To know that my child is normal. And that I will be okay. Eventually.

Get What You Give

2009-05-14T12:11:00.000-07:00

If you question my daughter "How do you ask for things in your house?" she'll say, without hesitation, "A question with a please."

It makes sense. After all, that's what I tell her at least twenty times a day in response to "I NEED CRAYONS!" or "MOMMY, I WANT MILK"! or "YOU NEED TO FIND THAT FOR ME RIGHT NOW!" I always marvel that I have to remind her so many times. "Can I have a question with a please, can I have a question with a please?" When will she ever learn the basics of polite behavior?

Until I realized the way that I roll in the same department.

Let me give you some of my personal standards;

"TIME FOR LUNCH."
"PUT THAT DOWN."
"I NEED YOU TO LOWER YOUR VOICE."
"WE ARE GOING RIGHT NOW."

In fact, upon reflection, the amount of times I ask my children to do something with a "Can you" and a "please" versus a statement or direct order is probably in the field of fifteen percent. And that's being kind.

So why don't I do it? The same reason my daughter doesn't. We don't want to hear our least favorite answer. NO.

When I am trying to get both kids out the door in the morning, I do not want to ask "Can you please put on your jacket?" I am more amenable toward the "please" but the "can you?" That gives her an option I don't want to give! So, why should she feel any differently?

Well, the answer is, she shouldn't. And I can have compassion for why I don't. But realizing this, gives me two important avenues for development, both personally and in my relationship with my child.

One: I need to place more importance on modeling the behavior that I want, in this case, asking a question with a please. (We can deal with the possible responses when they come).

Two: I need to remember my empathy for my daughter's learning curve. And under the circumstances, be grateful I am reminding her of what I want twenty times a day. As opposed to fifty.

Story of the Month (a little early but I couldn't resist this one)

2009-03-24T11:07:00.000-07:00

My child isn’t good enough. I’m not good enough.

This may not be how it sounds in your head. Or maybe it is. But these feelings or feelings like these can come up often in ideal moments for behavioral learning. Try to follow the thread of feelings like frustration, anger or anxiety. It’s surprising how often these lead to the heart of our own self-esteem, in spite of the fact that the situation most often has nothing to do with us.

The other day, my four year old had a friend come over to play. She had been focused all morning on a project we were working on and her displeasure at being interrupted was clear when her playmate showed up. To make matters worse, the girl’s mother had also brought her daughter’s aunt who was staying with them. This was someone I had seen being very critical around children who were not calm, friendly and doing what they were told, when they were told it. I was strongly aware of my own inner groaning, particularly when my daughter came out to meet them scowling and declared “I don’t want HER in my room” (referring to the puzzled and angelic-looking little girl who had greeted my daughter warmly).

I was so flustered at this uncomfortable beginning that it didn’t occur to me to involve the other child in our art project or to help her start one of her own. When my daughter stalked off to her room beginning the first tantrum of the day with the scream “NO ONE CAN COME IN HERE!”, I began explaining away her behavior “she’s had a rough morning” (she hadn’t), apologizing, and then justifying by commiserating that our children can’t “cancel a date when they don’t feel like playing the way adults can”. (P.S. This was a standing play-date to which my daughter has never expressed any dislike nor did she that morning).

The rest of the playdate (which we curtailed after an hour for obvious reasons) consisted of my daughter either telling this girl she wanted to be alone and didn’t want her in her room, pushing my son, her brother and getting a time-out, screaming and crying as well as whining while attempting to order me to do things.

I had spent a fair amount of time with the other adults explaining, apologizing and justifying. I did this because, despite my intellectual knowledge that sometimes children act out, there was that "hard to ignore" emotional part of me that said “My daughter’s not good enough” and “I’m not good enough”.

Then, the (often lurking) FUTURE FEAR played a visit by commenting in my head “What if she never has friends because of this kind of behavior?”
I have to admit that, while I was giving my daughter a time-out in her room for shoving her brother, I was imagining my adult guests in the living room saying “This is the psychotherapist’s kid! What a joke! This is what she’s doing wrong….”

In reality, I have no idea what they were thinking. They may or may not have been judging me but in the end, that is irrelevant and none of my business. What is meaningful to me is that I imagined them judging me because I was judging me. I was feeling embarrassed and ashamed around my daughter’s behavior because I was playing that well-worn tape of my own family of origin which bleated unyieldingly “children are a direct reflection of their parents”. More simply put, if a child is acting out- there is something wrong with the child and therefore, something wrong with ME.

The reality was and still remains; children act out and it is our job to correct their behavior while remaining as empathic as we are able. While I was able to effectively teach my daughter in those moments by asking for the behavior I wanted without condemning or shaming her, I sure did a song and dance in my head as well as aloud with the adult guests that day.

Story of the Month: The Dangers of Guilty Parenting

2009-03-06T12:48:00.000-08:00

I was pushing the double stroller back from Grandma and Grandpa’s. My two year old son was beginning to pass out in the front seat, my four year old daughter was half dozing, half playing with some plastic food in the back. It was approximately a 20 block walk and I wanted to be home. It was coming close to nap time and I knew that the deeper the sleep that overtook my son, the more difficult it would be to wake him to walk the 3 flights of stairs that took us to our apartment. (Having chronic lower back pain due to a bulging disk made carrying his dead weight a Herculean feat). In addition, I risked erasing the shot of a full two to three hour nap (said son was prone to refusing to return to sleep upon waking.) About 12 blocks in, my daughter began shrieking hysterically. According to her, she had dropped her twenty-five cent plastic ice-cream cone and began screaming, demanding we go back for it. I glanced around our immediate area (where she insisted she had just dropped it) and did not see the ice cream. I glanced behind us down the street and did not see the ice cream. I made a quick decision in my mind. I would not be going back for the ice cream. I calmly told my daughter that I was sorry she had dropped it and I knew it was disappointing but that I had looked around us and behind us, did not see the toy and would not be retracing our steps. I continued pushing the stroller forward. The tantrum that ensued was remarkable. She screamed and cried. She yelled and demanded we go back numerous times. When I tried to empathize she yelled at me to stop talking. I knew that she was going through a rough time and twenty-five cent toy or no, this was her toy and it was important to her. I could respect that, after all, how would I feel if I lost my cell phone? I would probably take the walk to retrace my steps. As we neared our house, I again empathized with her and brought up some well-loved activities we could do when we arrived home once she had calmed down. The screaming ebbed to sulking and I kept quiet, allowing my daughter her own feelings and giving myself time to relax. To make a long story short, when we arrived home my daughter climbed out of the stroller where I made the discovery that she had been sitting on the ice cream cone all along. This is not a remarkable story. We parents know this kind of thing happens all the time. So why am I writing about it?
Just as we cannot expect our children to feel responsible for our feelings (see projection), so we cannot ask ourselves to be responsible for theirs. Sometimes we make decisions or draw boundaries that our children (as well as others) will not like or agree. Sometimes our children will rage at us or just the sight of their tear covered face might stir up feelings of guilt.
I remember when my daughter was two and she and I were coming home from the playground. She hadn’t wanted to leave when it was time to go and after some unsuccessful (to my goal!) listening, discussion and explaining I eventually made the decision to put her into her stroller and roll her out of the playground. She began to scream as we walked down the street. I verbally empathized with her and also validated her need to cry out her frustration. I let her know if she wanted to talk with me or needed a hug she need only ask. I had been silent for about 10 seconds, when I noticed a young man, maybe 20 years of age walking toward us down the street, heading in the opposite direction. He began yelling at me “You don’t just let a child cry like that! What’s the matter with you!? You let a child cry like that, they’ll grow to be mean like me!”
Although I ignored the man, he certainly triggered my defense/justification button. No one wants their child to feel miserable and certainly being in public can raise the discomfort level. Resentfully, I went through my verbal argument silently

Clearly you don’t have any kids and you don’t know what you’re talking about. Sometimes kids cry when they don’t get what they want. That’s a part of life. Do you know what this child would be like if she got everything she wanted all the time? I didn’t beat her, I just told her it was time to leave the playground.

It took a few moments to calm down and then compassion set in. This man felt pain at the sight of my daughter crying. He had been triggered. Maybe this man had been ignored as a child. Maybe his tears were not responded to with empathy. Maybe he was told to “cut it out already”. But is that what I had been doing? It was not.

I made a decision when I decided not to go back for that ice cream. It wasn’t the “right decision” or the “wrong decision”. It was my decision, based on my own needs and my own interpretation of the situation. It was not made from spite or a desire to be cruel or thoughtless, despite my daughter’s reaction. Because I could accept that my decision was not “wrong”, I could also have empathy for my daughter’s feelings. I could draw a boundary while validating her experience.

And what might have happened if I had gone back searching for the ice cream that wasn’t there? How might I have reacted when we came home and found it in the stroller? I would like to think I wouldn’t have experienced some obvious anger and resentment that she would clearly have felt. Maybe even a thought that she made this happen while avoiding my own part in it—the part that says if she cries, I’m guilty, I’m culpable, I have to go back for this toy.

Instead, we both genuinely rejoiced over the found ice cream cone and went upstairs. My son didn’t manage the nap after all but all things considered, it was a nice day.

STORY OF THE MONTH

2009-01-15T07:23:00.000-08:00

Recently, my own daughter (3 ½) and I were getting ready to take a walk and do some errands. She had gotten herself in her stroller and wanted to buckle her own straps but was having a hard time and quickly became frustrated. My offers to help were met with angry yells and as we were still going nowhere, I began to feel frustrated as well.

She eventually buckled herself in and glared ferociously at me as we started down the street. She then proceeded to yell at the top of her lungs “I WANT WATER NOW!” I gave her my standard response to screaming or whining demands which was “How would you ask for it?”

(By this age, our daughter was well-acquainted with my expectations—a question followed by a please in an acceptable volume absent of whining. She also knew that screaming or whining, while never punished, had never been rewarded either.)

She responded by screaming louder and it came to be that I was pushing a stroller down my block with a child screaming at full volume “I WANT WATER NOW PLEASE, NO GIVE ME WATER NOW! NO, NO, I’M THIRSTY I’M THIRSTY, GIVE IT NOW, NO, NO, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!” I remember thinking Great, the whole neighborhood is going to think I use dehydration as a punishment or child rearing technique. I felt a flush of embarrassment (combined with the desire to dump the water on her head). I stood my ground, however, and intermittently reminded her that I would be happy to give her the water when she asked in an acceptable way. After about 30 (incredibly sucky) minutes she was able to calm down and ask for what she wanted which was given immediately. There was no punishment for her tantrum (feelings).

Here's the thing. If I had given her the water immediately I surely would have saved myself a ridiculous 30 minute headache. However, I would have also accomplished two other unintended results. One, would have been teaching my daughter that whining or yelling was a successful way to get needs met. The second, and sometimes less obvious would have been the development of my own anger and resentment. If I had gone against myself, my boundaries and given my child what she wanted (be it out of my own insecurity of what another might be thinking or my own level of impatience/irritation with the tantrum), I would have likely resented her. Although, it would have been my own boundaries I was crossing, I still would have probably found a way to blame her. These thoughts or opinions might have sounded something like; she’s so manipulative/ bossy/ selfish/ obnoxious/whiny/unmanageable/bratty (fill in the blank).

If I crossed my own boundaries it would have been much more difficult to have empathy and to recognize the reality; she is frustrated and due to her level of maturity, this is how she knows how to express it—it is my job to wait until the tantrum is over and then use this as a teaching opportunity once I’ve worked through my own frustration, anger and/or impatience.

It can be incredibly important and difficult to ask ourselves how often do I become angry with my children for my own decisions and limitations? I know this is a question I need to ask myself often to keep to my own side of the street.

I Need You To Change So I Can Be OK

2008-03-09T13:28:00.001-07:00

Need I say more? Well, probably. So I will. We have all been the givers and we have all been the recipients of this overwhelming declaration at one point or another in our lives.

Did you ever get the message from a parent that your energy was overwhelming to them and it was your responsibility to tone it down so they could relax? That your whining "put them" in a bad mood? That your feelings hurt their feelings? That their feelings of self-worth depended on your behavior and accomplishments?

Anytime we believe someone is making us feel something and that in order to stop feeling it-they need to change their behavior, we are swimming in deep, shark-infested waters. This is because we can’t regulate or control other people. We can’t even control our own behavior all of the time however, our own behavior is really the place where we have a legitimate opportunity for growth. If our self-esteem, self-worth or even pleasant mood depends on what someone else says and does we are going to be in a constant emotional flux that proves to be most exhausting.

The following is an example I use to illustrate that our children are not responsible for causing our feelings.
One morning at 6:30 am, my 3 year old daughter started whining repeatedly (in the tone that is very difficult to hear first thing in the morning) that water was on her face and she wanted it off. I was in a relatively pleasant mood—calmly wiped it off and said something like “I hear that the water on your face upset you, is that right?” She said “Yeah”. I said “Okay, next time can you try asking me to wipe it off in your other voice and can you add on a please?” She said “OK, Mama.” Then she ran off to play. I felt good about the way that went and believed I was encouraging shame free learning. In fact, she went on to request several other things in the next two hours in what I considered to be a polite fashion. Three hours later. She was whining about something else (I don’t remember what because I was too busy feeling irritated about one thing or the other) and I said in a harsher voice “I can’t do that right now- I’m not dealing with that right now.” I was responding to a thought that had quickly zipped across my mind (almost without my noticing it): that is really nothing to whine about-it's not a big deal. Interestingly, when it happened a third time an hour later, I was feeling pretty relaxed and asked her calmly for the tone I was looking for, knowing that she was learning and that this was a process that takes time. She nonchalantly changed her voice and added a please.

My daughters' behavior didn’t change from scenario 1 to scenario 2 to scenario 3. I am the one who changed. I was in a more patient mood in the first and third instance. The second time, her whining didn’t make me feel impatient just like the first and third time her whining didn’t make me feel patient. My emotions were in direct response to my thoughts which were comprised, not of objective truths, but of my own expectations based on my personal desires. Chew on that for a little while...

Our Stories (Parents Are Children Too)

2008-03-09T12:57:00.000-07:00

The following are stories from my upcoming book What Is A Good Child? Overcoming the Biggest Barrier To Teaching Children Desired Behavior. These are true stories from parents of various ages and upbringings describing ways in which they were affected as children and remain affected by the projection of a past caregiver. Some changed their names as they continue to feel responsible for the happiness and well-being of this person(s).

I was always taught “anything you do, you should do your best or it’s not worth doing.” I was also told that I could do anything well. There didn’t seem to be any discussion about the days when you’re not at your best and that being normal and okay. There wasn’t any discussion about not being able to excel at everything. There wasn’t any discussion about being okay despite the result or outcome, in general. When I was a kid, I thought that unless I was really good at something I shouldn’t bother with it. I remember going on to the next picture in the coloring book after I had accidentally gone out of the line and thinking the picture was ruined, no good. As an adult, I looked to be perfect in everything I did. Since I could never be perfect, I always felt like a failure, despite marrying a woman I love, having three great kids and a job I like.

John- kids ages, 3, 7 & 10

My mother always told me that “good people” thought and behaved in one way and selfish, mean-spirited people another. Whenever I had an angry thought or feeling or acted out, I felt this was an example of my innate “badness”. As an adult, I would often ask myself “what would a good person do?” I had no idea that I was a good person. This really affected my ability to make decisions and take care of myself and still be there for other people.

Susan- kids ages, 10 months & 3yrs

My father was verbally and physically abusive when I was growing up, and his outbursts usually followed an argument between us. Whenever we had one of these encounters, my mother would call me stubborn and argumentative. "I'm sorry he did that honey, but he would leave you alone if you weren't so stubborn and argumentative." I felt so angry and betrayed when she said this, and even more out of control. My dad's outbursts were already uncontrollable, and to be told I could have stopped or avoided them when I couldn’t made the world just feel completely out of control. A lot of the issues and behaviors I think about now and seek to change come from this feeling of being out of control and that somehow I should have controlled things. And that I’m somehow bad and to blame and should do better. In college I became anorexic and sporadically bulimic, in an effort to radically control my body, which I’ve never been happy with. In my intimate relationships I’ve been called a micromanager, someone who has to control every little detail. I married a man with problems who I thought I could fix and change, or heal. That was certainly an instance of trying to control the uncontrollable. I’m now in a much healthier relationship, but it takes all my courage to speak up for what I want and need because I operate with this black and white thinking where either I’m in control or I can’t say anything at all. It’s always so surprising when I succeed in gently making a request or saying how I feel and that is met with support. It turns out that getting what I want isn’t what I’m after: it’s the support and love, even if the answer is no. I still feel like I’m both a bully and a victim, which is exactly what I was when my dad was so mean and my mother told me it was my fault. I’m always sure that I’ve been too demanding and pushy, even when people tell me I’m way too nice. I put up with too much out of fear that I’m awful, but then I lash out when I feel like a victim. I think I’ve set a high standard for my children’s behavior because I’m even afraid of lashing out at them. Whenever I discipline them I try to do what I think a good mother would do—because underneath I believe I must be a terrible mother. I call these my “valium mommy moments.” Everything in me wants to yell, but I put on this super calm voice and tell them what I think they need to hear. I must be afraid of what I’d say if I just did what I felt like.

Genevieve, age 36, children are 8, 6 and 4.

As a child, I was often told I was ‘spacey’, ‘had my head in the clouds’ and my grandmother used to tell me that ‘if my head weren’t screwed on, I would leave it behind’. Teachers would comment on my report cards that I was ‘in another world’ and many people had to say things like ‘snap out of it’ or ‘wake up’ when I was drifting. Growing up, I often felt guilty about forgetting things or missing what people said. But I would say the most profound effect was that I felt out of control of my own mind. Without training as to how I could expand my attention span or deepen my focus, I constantly felt out of control and that there was nothing I could do about it. As an adult, I look back and realize that a little training and understanding could have gone a long way. In my teens and early twenties, I would often seek out situations that made me the oddball or made me feel, or look, like I was out of control. I started to enjoy using recreational drugs, coloring my hair and piercing my body and face. I lived in and out of other people’s apartments as I traveled through Costa Rica, Texas and Colorado and I think it was no coincidence that these people showed signs of feeling alienated as well. I have since completed a Bachelors, 2 Masters, achieved 3 professional certificates, 10 years of experience in my career. I have also purchased my own house, have an 11 year wonderful marriage and two seemingly happy and well adjusted children. My credit rating is excellent, I have made some amazing improvements on my home by hand and by managing contractors. And yet, after walking 2 miles to work while listening to books on tape I was surprised to hear somebody tell me that I am “one of those ‘highly efficient’ people”. After all I have done, at 35, I guess I still hold a ‘slacker’ image of myself. The people who have only met me recently seem to perceive me as organized, professional, intelligent and driven. Unfortunately, I still find myself ‘proving’ that I am alienated with my stories of the past, some shocking comments and crass humor. I guess I may still be a bit uncomfortable in my new persona.

Chris, age 35, two children ages 5 & 9

Do You Have A Story To Share?

If you are interested in telling your experience of projection and labeling, I am currently accepting more stories for both this blog and my upcoming book. I am looking for one or two paragraphs describing a projection or label given to you as a child and the way it affected your life then and as an adult. Please include your first name only (or make up one) and the ages of your children (as section is titled Parent’s Stories)

Submitting a story can give courage and hope to others who have not yet been able to name their experience. I encourage all who feel touched by this blog to contribute-I am grateful for both your insight and courage.

Stories can be e-mailed to ronit@goodchildren.org and may be edited for length, however, wording will never be changed.

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Book Information

2008-03-09T12:41:00.000-07:00

Are you unintentionally intensifying the negative behavior you wish to eliminate?

To learn about ways to teach behavior and increase self-esteem simultaneously, visit my website at www.goodchildren.org and schedule a workshop!

Who can schedule workshops?

You can! You can host a workshop in your home for you, your friends, your parenting group and/or your family! You can also ask your child's school, church, temple or community center to sponsor a workshop. Educators and administrators can host a workshop for professional staff development. Additionally, the techniques that I advocate will be explored in my upcoming book: What is A Good Child? Overcoming The Biggest Barrier To Teaching Children Behavior. Please encourage others to visit this blog to speed up this publication!