At Last! An Instruction Manual for Parents.

Being a parent is tough. And as the cliché goes, there is no instruction manual. Or is there?

Several months ago my wife introduced me to a book, Easy to Love, Difficult to Discipline, by Becky Bailey. It is completely changing my views on parenting and how to go about it and in the process giving me increased hope that both my children and I will survive the experience.

One primary concept is that conflict is part of life and rather than being something undesirable it is really an opportunity for teaching. “You mean I should encourage conflict? That’s crazy!” That would be crazy. But here’s the deal. Children (and adults) aren’t born knowing where appropriate boundaries and limits should be and what consequences, both good and bad, may result from their actions. Conflict is where that learning can take place, and best while they are young and the consequences are small. Unfortunately, frequently the wrong lessons are learned because the parents see conflict as a contest of wills and a power struggle. Parents want to know how to make their children behave. Obedience is prized not least because it is the easier path—for the parents.

But that just teaches children to be followers and pleasers. It also teaches them to force their will on others who are weaker than they are. Conversely, if the parents give in to the children in the interest of peace it teaches them to be demanding and ego-centric. It’s not that the children are bad—they have just been incorrectly taught and guided. Easy to Love, Difficult to Discipline shows you how to keep a level head and help your children learn these essential lessons. It’s not about making our children behave, but equipping them with the necessary understanding that will help them be more likely to make the correct choices, both now and in the future.

For those of us who believe that one of God’s supernal gifts to mankind is agency, this approach fits right in. God does not teach us by making us behave, so why would we try this with our children? Well, we do it because that’s how we were raised, or its how we think we should parent.

Control uses fear, whereas the principal here is one of loving guidance. And each new chapter I read (I still have another 60 pages to go) brings new revelations.

A big one is positive intent. It is easy to believe that when children (and adults) misbehave they do it out of selfishness or some other bad motive. Not surprisingly, when you tell little Johnny “You’re being selfish for not sharing your toys,” he takes that as a personal attack (which it is) and is even less willing to share. We just escalated the conflict. Positive intent assumes that Johnny misbehaved for a more neutral reason, even if he really was being selfish. By telling Johnny, “You kept the toys to yourself because you wanted to make sure they were nearby to play with later,” he sees you as someone who is his ally rather than his enemy. Note that this may not be the real reason. In fact, Johnny himself may not be able to tell you why he wouldn’t share his toys. The key here is not going into opposition mode. Then the child will be more likely to listen and respond to your loving guidance. “Johnny, when we have more toys than we can play with at the same time, we share the extra ones so that our friends can play and be happy too. Then when we want them back we ask for them by saying, ‘May I have my toy, please?’ Let’s practice.”

There is an excellent chapter on consequences as well. What a light it shined on punishment vs. consequences.

There are so many more insights, clarifications and outright new perspectives that turn on end what I had thought and believed. Most importantly, as I begin to apply the principles in this book I find my own inner peace increasing. I feel better about myself and my role as a parent. The conflict goes on, but if I do my job (however imperfectly) then my children will be better prepared for the rest of their lives.

In case you haven’t already gotten the idea, I cannot recommend this book highly enough. I just wish the entire nation (and world for that matter) could turn to this way to raise children. It would be a truly different world, and a much better one.

The Things We Do For Love

I finished my last trip of 2008 on New Year’s Eve just a little after noon. A choice loomed before me. I had the next day off, but then needed to be back early on the 2nd for a trip. Flights to Utah appeared to have seats available, but returning to Atlanta on New Year’s Day looked to be rough at best—every flight but one was already oversold plus there were already dozens of fellow Delta and Delta Connection employees (“non-revs”—non revenue paying passengers) like me on the list for whatever empty seats there might be. To compound things, my next days off weren’t until the 6th, meaning that if I chose to stay in Atlanta, I would be gone for eight days in a row. Hardly ideal.

I decided to go for it. The 1:50 flight to Salt Lake City looked good. . . or so I thought. Upon arriving at the gate I saw on the monitors overhead that the flight had less than a handful of seats still available and over 50 non-revs on the list. I stood in line, hoping that the jump-seat in the cockpit was still available. It was a good plan, if only the person just ahead of me hadn’t requested it first. There was still the 4:25 flight, but all of those who didn’t make the 1:50 flight would just roll over to the next one, so my chances were slim at best.

The other pilot recognized my plight and informed me that he had checked out connecting to Salt Lake City through St. Louis and that the jump-seats were available. Another choice. I didn’t want to get stuck in St. Louis if the connecting flight was full. Once again, I decided to go for it. I raced to the other gate, since the St. Louis flight was leaving in less than 30 minutes. Trying to get the flight out on time on a busy travel day, the gate agent was less than happy or helpful when I showed up at nearly the last minute with my request. A Delta pilot had already requested the jump-seat, it turned out. Although I had priority (it was an ASA flight) and he volunteered to sit in back (he was first in the priority list for non-revs) she refused to change anything. With a (supposedly) full flight and 7 non-revs listed, my chances were looking lousy. But, as luck would have it, there must have been some paying passengers who mis-connected because there was one empty seat after all. Hallelujah!

Once in St. Louis I had to wait two and a half hours for the flight to Salt Lake City. Good thing I brought plenty to read. Fortunately I did get the jump-seat this time, and somehow, again in spite of a supposedly full flight, there was an empty seat for me in the back. I took advantage and slept as much as I could, knowing it would be a very short night.

I pulled into the driveway at 8:00, happy to be home, but still dreading the thought of getting up at 4:15 to try to get back to Atlanta. Annette greeted me with an enthusiastic kiss, very pleased that I had made the effort. That and the kids hugs, which ranged from cheerful to exuberant, made all the trouble worthwhile. We had several of our children’s friends over for the festivities, played Mario Kart on the Wii as well as Family Cranium. A good time was had by all. After seeing everyone off, putting the children to bed and cleaning up, Annette and I finally fell asleep around 1:30 or so.

Less than three hours later I was up. Surprisingly, I wasn’t as exhausted as I expected. I guess my body treated it more like a nap. Good thing. Once again, I knew that my best chance lay with requesting the jump-seat. I made sure I was first in line. Now, if a Delta pilot had wanted it, I would have lost out, but otherwise, it’s first come, first served. So first mattered. And sure enough, shortly after requesting and receiving the jump-seat another ASA pilot arrived. I kept my eyes peeled, looking for any Delta pilots, but none showed up. This time I did end up sitting in the cockpit, but I was just happy that I didn’t end up sitting in the airport all day trying to get out. That was a very real possibility.

The Delta pilots were very friendly and a lot of fun, and to top it off there were some First Class breakfasts left over for the three of us. Score! (Pilots love free food, and no, this isn’t typical.) I arrived in Atlanta shortly after noon, roughly 24 hours after I had left. After a brief train ride and somewhat longer bus trip I arrived at my crash pad and. . . well, what else?. . . crashed!

It was definitely a memorable New Year’s Eve. I was very grateful that even with a bump or two along the way, it had all worked out so well and that I was able to be with those I loved to usher in the New Year.