But that horror is not the reason for my blog, although it certainly fed it.

Did you know that not long ago it was Neighborday?  You probably know about Secretaries’ Day, Nurses’ Day, and National Police Day. Maybe you’ve heard of National Bus Driver Appreciation Day or even No Socks Day. But who knew that there was a Neighborday?

During a recent parenting group safety discussion, I asked participants who of them knew their neighbors on their street or even their right-next-door-neighbors. Shockingly, very few people answered in the affirmative.  Is it because this is Los Angeles, the land of fortress-like property walls and mile long driveways? Is it because no one wants to be intrusive, under the guise of respecting neighbors’ privacy? Or is it because of well-developed tunnel vision?

A group member told us about Neighborday. She had heard about it and, on the spot she decided to create her own neighborhood get-together. She and her children made it all happen—flyers in all the neighbors’ mailboxes, Jumphouse ordered, craft and get-to-know you activities organized, food and fun all ready. While she gingerly cautioned her children that no one might show up (but they could jump and have a blast by themselves), that was not the case.  Their Neighborday was a resounding success.  And they discovered that one of their neighbors makes honey from her own bees, one has eleven chickens, and another is a conspiracy theorist who thinks the government is stealing dirt from the hillsides.  Everyone proclaimed the brilliance of the day and marveled that it had never been done before. Most importantly, the neighbors were getting to know one another.

(For Neighborday celebrations around the world, see http://www.good.is/posts/neighborday-recap-the-10-best-things-that-happened-this-april-27th)

While there has been much media digging, speculation, and discussion about how the Cleveland horror could have happened, no one has identified the weak link, including neighbors’ not knowing Castro.  However, for myriad reasons, safety still being at the top of the list, there is much to be said for knowing your neighbors.

Knowing your neighbors leads to caring about them. It is a baby step along the young child’s path to cultivating empathy and care- giving beyond the family.

1. Children need to know that our world is filled with people who will help, that “helpers are everywhere,” to quote Mr. Rogers.  And, in addition to being aware of “stranger danger,” children must learn and practice asking for help.
2. In times of need, your neighbors are often the most expedient path to help.
3. By connecting and having familiarity with your neighbors, you necessarily increase your awareness of them as well as your concern for them. Caring for your neighbors fuels your alertness to their ongoing lives.
4. Knowing your neighbors expands your vision. Most people could do a better job of being aware of their surroundings, expanding their peripheral vision.  Difference (aka seeing that something is fishy) can only be noticed if normal has been established.
5. Connecting with your neighbors provides a feeling of safety with security in numbers.
6. There is no relationship quite like that with a neighbor. He is not usually family, nor is he necessarily a pre-selected friend. Cultivating that unique relationship adds to a child’s repertoire of social possibilities and skills, and starts him on the path to becoming a citizen of the world (in this case, of the neighborhood!)

What will you do for Neighborday next year?

Shockingly, I recently stared cancer in the face. Even I, the healthiest person I know, did not escape the reach of the Big C.  A totally successful surgery was followed by a less successful post op experience, and I found myself having a second surgery to deal with life threatening complications. Thankfully, all of that is history. And I am well on the mend, but that is not the point.

A professional nurturer, my career is built around helping people. Being in the position of needing help and support was new territory.  As I spiraled downhill, I had no choice. First it was my own adult children who stepped up to the plate. Home they flew, as my husband cut short his Asian business trip and raced to the homestead. Role reversal: they all took over. The second team, all my dear friends, was close behind.  As did the pioneers to protect against danger, they circled the wagons. They buoyed me in a way I have never experienced.

And as word spread, in droves clients far and wide ran to give their support and love—cards, notes, emails, phones calls, errands, a home filled with flowers, a refrigerator spilling chicken soup and fare from the finest eateries, and gifts to pamper a healing body.  The outpouring of love and support was beyond any I could have imagined.  Talk about a show of empathy.

A mom client sent me a lovely handmade card. Included in her well-wishes was the story of her weeping when she read the news of my illness and her son asking what was wrong.  She shared with him the story of Betsy and how sad it made her. Together they made my special card.

While children might be predisposed to being empathetic, it is clear to me that active empathy is cultivated and nurtured when practiced daily in the home.

When your child’s playdate gets canceled, do you assuage his disappointment with an outing to the park? Empathy would be taught by instead making a card or baking a batch of cookies for the sick playmate. The parent who bakes an extra loaf of banana bread for the ill neighbor, the father who includes the child of an absent parent in his family’s weekend outing, the mother who creates a garden bouquet or makes a meal for a grieving family—all model and thereby teach empathy.

 Last week I chatted with the daughter of a dear colleague whose husband just died. I shared how taken I was the awe-inspiring attentiveness shown by her and her brother as Wally was dying, sleeping every night with their mother, taking care of all communications and details for her.  Shana’s reply?  “My mama taught me.”

Can there be any question who is a child’s first teacher of empathy?

My mirror neurons, the ones that make you match the emotions of others, were hard at work. (You know when someone yawns, and you yawn? Those are your mirror neurons.) But the tsunami of tears I experienced went beyond my sympathy or empathy.

They started when his children then his wife spoke about their father/husband. Each of the kids, now grown and launched, shared what she/he would remember most about her/his dad. Each echoed the same sentiment: Their dad modeled for them how to be a person of character; he walked the walk, even when no one was looking.  (He penalized himself for a golf stroke even though only he knew about it.) He lived a life of integrity, caring, action, love, and devotion. He didn’t preach it; he lived it.

But the thing expressed by each child that brought me to my knees, was that this dad was genuinely there for each of kids throughout their lives. Each not only felt but experienced his/her dad’s concern, support, and encouragement. He was an ongoing, constant, day-to-day presence in his kids’ lives. They knew that he put them first not by his words but by his actions. This was a dad who showed up. He “posted,” as my own kids would say.

There are lots of scheduled ways that parents “show up”–performances, culminations, sporting events.  And there are more basic demands that require a parent to show up—carpools, doctors’ appointments, parent conferences.  It was clear to me that these five children who lost their dad were talking about another kind of showing up, not the have-to’s and not the splashy vacations and trips to Disneyland.  They remembered their day-to-day, every day dad.

There are lots of competitors for a parent’s attention in today’s world. Everyone has obligations and distractions that tug them away from their children.  A client and I recently shared the  head-shaking reality that young children today must compete with their parents’ ever-present, iphones for attention.  Whether waiting in carpool, in the ball park bleachers,  or standing in line at the grocery store, parents check emails with child in tow.  In the days before cell phones, parents actually watched their children in the park, witnessing the first real cartwheel or free throw, tiny events they would have missed had they been glued to their email.  It takes pleas of “Watch me, Daddy!” to grab the parent’s attention away from the iphone these days. Do you think your kids don’t notice what is most important to you?

On the way home from the funeral, I listened to a radio show psychologist as she talked about a teenage boy who was acting out, mainly with his dad, as reported by the mom. Mom handed the phone to the boy, as per the doctor’s request. After some noodling around, the doctor asked him, “What do you want from your dad?” A pregnant silence was followed with,  “I want him to him to like me.  I want him to care about me and pay attention to me”  very quietly spoken.  How timely that I tuned into that segment of the radio program, on my way home from the funeral.

How you will be remembered? What your children will declare about you is in your hands.  Take the time now to watch their cartwheels and post every time you can.  The time to show up for your kids is now.

As children grow and mature, they begin to understand death differently. Children older than 7 years are able to see death as permanent. The dead pet is not coming back, ever.  But the child is still young in his understanding, so he could engage in what is known as “magical thinking.”  What he thinks, actually could happen. For example, he might wish a pet were dead because he chewed up a toy, and then coincidentally, the pet dies. A child this age could feel responsibility for the death, correlating what he thought with what happened.  You can imagine how guilt-producing this kind of magical thinking can be.

While older children do understand death’s permanence, that the pet is not alive somewhere else (“in the country”), or expect the pet magically to come back, it remains difficult to accept the reality.  Children, like adults, can go through the normal stages of mourning and grief—denial, bargaining, anger, guilt, depression, and finally, acceptance.)  Because they are children, their grief can also manifest in other ways.

An older child might:

• Experience a regression (bed wetting, melt downs, thumb sucking, etc..)

• Generalize the loss to himself, having issues with separation and even fears of abandonment.
• Develop concerns about his own mortality as well as about those who love and care for him.
• Withdraw from his normal daily life, appearing to be unusually quiet, not wanting to be with friends, not being interested in school and extra-curricular activities.
• Develop concerns and fears heretofore not experienced.  Remember, the capacity for expanded thought that accompanies maturing cognition can lead to all kinds of ideas not previously imagined.

For children 5 years and older, it is within the realm of typical for a pet’s death to stimulate a heightened curiosity about the details of death—what happens to the body, is there a dog heaven, what does the pet’s body look like after it is buried. This child may be intent upon seeing the body of the deceased pet.

How your older child will react to the news of a pet’s death or the need to put the pet down is, however, unpredictable and will vary. Each child will react in his own way, based on his development, his emotional state, and his life experience. Only you, the parent, know how your older child will process the pet’s death or pending death.

With older children, the following suggestions may be helpful:

1. Honesty is the best practice, as always.
2. Use real words and be prepared to explain them. “The vet is going to euthanize Buddy Dog,” is honest and better than “put him to sleep” or “put him down.”
3. Remind the child of the pet’s advanced age or that he had a problem that the vet could not fix.  “The parts of Buddy’s body that he needs to live are no longer working. He is starting to die.” Or when there is illness, “Because parts of Buddy’s body are not working right, he is not comfortable and he has a lot of pain. He cannot live anymore. The vet is going to help him to die peacefully, and he won’t be in pain.”
4.  Be prepared to explain euthanasia, gently.  “Euthanasia is the process of ending the pet’s life that is done by a vet.”  If the child wants more, you can add, “The vet gives the pet some medicine, so he is very calm, almost sleeping. Then he gives him an injection of medicine that stops his heart from beating and his lungs from breathing. The pet doesn’t feel a thing. He quietly dies. It is very peaceful.” Be sure to explain that it is only animals  that sometimes get euthanized. (This is not time for the assisted suicide discussion.)
5. The older child may want to say goodbye. Depending upon your child, such closure can be very important. Whether your child can observe the life ending process will depend upon you and your child and your vet.
6. Answering the question of what happens to the pet’s body is loaded for all children. The idea of cremation can be quite unsettling even to an older child. And again, the answer will be different for every child.  “The vet cremates the pet’s dead body, and it becomes ashes” is a good start. Rather than being too descriptive, if you choose to go this route, it is best to wait for the child’s questions and answer them truthfully and minimally.  Keep in mind that words like burn, fire, and oven conjure up some powerful and scary images for the child.
7. Honor the pet’s memory. A memorial service is a lovely way to introduce the child to one of our culture’s rites of passage, the funeral.  It also helps the child to build happy memories of the pet, as you recall all the things you loved about him.
8. Take time to miss your pet and don’t rush to get a replacement pet. Experiencing and managing sadness is part of your child’s growing emotional literacy.
9. Remind your child that in time, she won’t feel quite so sad. While she will always remember Buddy Dog, in time the hurt won’t feel so bad.

As with all learning, the child’s curiosity about, awareness and understanding of death grows bit by bit, one piece built on the last, like scaffolding.  (But does anyone really ever understand life’s one great inevitability, death?) And there are so many components parts that make up the concept of death and give it a context—the life cycle, life spans, aging, terminal illness, and what happens after death.   That’s a whole lot for a child to learn. (And it is all covered in my book.)

Death is not something from which children should be sheltered. It begins as soon as the child is able to notice that dead leaves are falling off the trees. Learning about this reality of life from the people she loves and trusts puts her squarely on track for open and honest communication as she grows and brings her heavy duty questions to you.  In reality, somewhere around the age of four, most children start to wonder about death, weave it into their dramatic play, lace their vocabularies with words like dead, die, kill, shoot, all in an attempt to wrap their arms around this difficult topic. Good for them; it’s part of the growing and learning process.

It is hard for anyone to deal with the death of a person, someone known.  Thankfully, it is less frequent that a young child is exposed to a person who is dying.  More likely, it is the death of a pet that is the child’s first brush with the concept of death.   How is a parent to deal with that?

Helping children to learn through the death of a pet is one of the many stepping stones to learning to deal with their sad feelings and to their healthy emotional development.  Below are some suggestions for helping a child to deal with a pet’s death.

When the child, 7 years and younger, sees that his pet is dead:

1. Do not avoid it.  As sad as it is, and as hard as it is to allow your child to experience sadness, your child will grow from the experience. Sadness is one of life’s flavors.
2. Do not sugar coat the reality. Less is more. Give simple, clear information. “Buddy Dog died. He is not alive anymore.  None of the parts of his body are working. He can’t walk or move or see or hear or lick or bark or pee or  poop. He is all done living.”
3. Answer his all questions simply, honestly, and age appropriately.
4. If your child asks what you are going to do with him, depending upon your plan, I suggest saying, “I am taking Buddy’s all-done body to the vet. The vet has a special place where he takes pets’ bodies when they are all done living, when they have died.”
5. Cremation need not be part of the death story for a young child. The death itself is difficult enough without adding a whole new, scary part.

When a dog (pet) must be put down, I suggest more round-about approach with the child 7 years and younger.

1. Craft the truth carefully.  Telling your child “Buddy went to play in the country” when the child comes home to find him gone, is not a good idea.
2. Be careful not to use the word “sleep,” as in “putting him to sleep,” with a young child. This is especially important if you value your own uninterrupted nighttime sleep. No one needs a child who fears going to sleep.
3. Since it is likely that you dog has been displaying signs of aging or illness, begin by telling her that you are taking the dog to the vet, even if you already know the prognosis. “Buddy is just not well, so I need to take him to the vet.”  If the child asks if the dog is going to die, you can say, “I don’t know. I only know that the vet will try to help Buddy feel better and fix his problem.”
4. If it is a question of aging, you can say, “Buddy is getting very old. Parts of his body are starting not to work so well. I am hoping the vet can help him to feel more comfortable.” And to the question, “Is he going to die?” you can answer, “Yes, he is going to die one day. He is getting very old for a dog. But I hope it isn’t too soon.” (An explanation of life spans, as found in my book, may be in order here.)
5. Ease your child into the reality, slowly. While you know the vet is putting the animal down, your child need not know the reality right when it happens .You can give your child daily progress reports.  On day two, for example, “The vet called to say that Buddy is not doing well, he is not better. The vet is having a hard time fixing the problem in his stomach.” And on day three, “The vet called today to say that he just can’t fix Buddy’s problem.”  Your child will ask if he is going to die, and you answer honestly, “Yes, I think so.” And on day four, you will deliver the sad news. “Today the vet called to say that Buddy Dog died. I feel so sad.”
6. Remember, you are a model of how to react and behave. Your own outward expression of sadness gives your child permission to be sad.
7. Together you can process the death by remembering Buddy Dog.  Don’t be quick to disappear his food dish and toys. Their presence will enable you to recall how much you loved him and how much you miss him. Time does help to heal, after all.
8. Take time before getting a new pet.  Children need to know that we don’t just replace loved ones. We mourn and feel sad and remember…and then move on when we are ready.

To the child, Whyyyyy? can serve many different purposes, the least common of which is actually finding out information.

Why? is most often a form of protest.  It‘s your child’s way of saying that he doesn’t like what you’ve just said or what is happening.  The synonym for Whyyyy?  in this case is Wrong answer!  And what he is hoping to hear is, “Okay, never mind, you don’t really have to go to bed.”

 Sometimes Whyyy? is a stalling technique. It buys the child time before he has to comply with whatever is being asked of him.

Why? can be a means of holding your attention. You know, when your child repeats Why? in response to every answer you give, and then you realize you’re being duped?   This form of  Why? is often typical of 2.5 to 3.5 year old children, who are genuinely curious and look to you as the knower of everything.  At first it is kind of cute, watching your toddler’s curiosity grow. Then you realize he has discovered the key to keeping your attention. Not so cute, as he drives you nuts.

And of course, there are those times when your child actually does seek information. Those are the good Whys?, the ones we welcome as opportunities to learn and grow. Those Whys? have a beginning and an end.

Whyyyy? as a form of protest does not require an answer. So, why is it that parents commonly take the bait?  (And that was a real Why?)  It is faulty thinking that reasoning with your child is going to work. True, once in a very long while, it might work. But not often.  I know we all think our children are gifted. Regardless, reasoning with your child, gifted or not, doesn’t work because your child’s need to have his way trumps his desire to be reasonable. And even if the child might actually see the logic in your reasoning, in his world his desire outweighs yours.

He doesn’t actually care about the reason.   He wants what he wants.  Period.

Parents often work over time attempting to get their child to see things their way. They think that they actually can convince the child that they are right and to give up what the child is wanting.  Or they think that if they give enough reasons they will hit on just the right one. That cookie that you really want right now will ruin your appetite and you won’t be hungry for dinner. The only possible response from the child?  No, it won’t!

 Here are some tips for dealing with Whyyyyy?

1. To the overly inquisitive three year old with his repetitive Why?, it is okay not to answer. “I am all done answering your questions for now” works.  Ignore the next 100 Whys?  They will stop.
2. Do not take the bait when your older child protests your direction or response to a request. Do not even attempt to answer a Whyyyy?  by reasoning. Your chances of reeling your child back in from the dark side are slim and none, regardless of how reasonable your answer.
3. In response to Whyyy? calmly and confidently restate your request.  “It’s time for bed now. This is not a debate.”
4. Stay on target.  No comments on what he wants or on his attempts to derail you.
5. You can acknowledge his feelings. “I know you don’t want to go to bed, but it IS bedtime.
6. Withstand the barrage of negativity about you, about you being the meanest mommy in the world, about how much he hates you, about his wanting to live in another family, and simply say, “Regardless of how you feel about me, it is bedtime.”
7. Mind your anger. Stay level and calm. Your anger will only serve to fuel his battle. Remember, the warrior wants what he wants, and that includes most of all,winning.
8. Despite your exhaustion over hearing his complaints, excuses, and arguments, you must not give in, thinking it would just be easier.  It will, in fact, be worse the next time.
9. “Well, just this once” is never a good answer. It will backfire for sure.

This is one of those times when parents’ confidence disappears; they are rendered tongue-tied. How do you explain that twenty young children (and some grown-ups) were killed while they were at school?

Unless your child has been exposed to this incident–by radio, TV, internet or overhearing your loose talk—there is absolutely no reason to bring it up to him.  Period.

But if you are unsure, as many will be, about whether your child has heard anything about the incident, you can ask, “Did anything happen (at school) today that you want to talk about?” This question leaves a wide berth for your child to bring up anything he may be thinking.

If your child exclaims, “Did you hear what happened at the school in Connecticut?” you need to find out what he knows.  Ask him to share what he heard.  Then you can begin your conversation based on what he knows, answering his questions honestly, minimally, and be able to correct any misinformation to the best of your ability.

Here are some possible scripts or starting points for talking with your child about the tragedy.

What happened?

Say as little as possible and state the bare facts:

Some grown-ups and children were killed at a school. That is as much as I know.

 Who did it?

 I only know that he was a man named Adam.

 Why did he do that?

After you share the correct information, and your child asks, “Why did he do that?” you can explain:

No one knows why he did it. We only know that he was not well. He had a serious problem with his thinking. He was sick in his mind, and he did a terrible thing.

Just like people sometimes have problems with their bodies, like a hearing impairment or a leg that doesn’t work, for example, once in a long while someone has a severe problem with his brain.  The guy who did the shooting had a big problem with his brain. It didn’t work properly, and he did a horrible, crazy thing.  He could not think right.

You will need to add for reassurance:

Most people’s brains work right. But once in a long long while someone’s mind doesn’t tell him what is and isn’t okay to do. He doesn’t know right from wrong, and he can’t stop himself from doing crazy things.  But this is very very rare; it doesn’t happen very often at all.

For older children:

If your older child, 10 years and older, comes to you wanting to talk about it,  depending upon his maturity, encourage the conversation. Ask him what he thinks might have been going on with someone who does something so horrific. Then share the same observations about mental illness, and the rarity of the act.  Not only will he share the burden of his fears with you, thereby lessening his load, but you will be able to reassure him of the randomness of the act and how remote the likelihood of it happening again is. You might also discuss how the media and internet bring terrible news instantly and relentlessly.  While it is an unfathomable act, having it thrown into your consciousness makes it even bigger.

Beware! Your children are listening.

My colleague shared that, while all media was shut down in her house during 911, her 5 year old son, never having been to New York, built “the twin towers” with his blocks in his playroom. Children hear, see, feel, and absorb what goes on around them. You may not think you child is listening, but he hears you.

Mind your affect.

It is close to impossible not to have been horror stricken by this event.  But it is critical that you modulate and take care of your own feelings.  Children read and absorb their parents’ feelings.  No need to add your worries to your child’s.  And be sure to seek the help of a mental health professional if you need help in managing your anxiety.

Children’s fears.

Fears of all kinds may be generated in the child who learns of this event. Do not downplay his fears. Rather, acknowledge that you understand that he is frightened.  You will need to reassure him over and over that you are all safe, that this was an unusual event. You may need to remind him of all the safety precautions that are in place, of all the people whose job it is to keep us safe—police, firefighters, security people, the TSA.  Car alarms, house alarms, seat belts are just a few of the ways that we are safe every single day. However, if after a few weeks your child’s fears are getting in the way of his functioning, you should contact a mental health professional.

 Tragedy’s shelf life.

It takes all people, including children, time to process events like the killings in Connecticut. Don’t be surprised if your child continues to ask questions, even the same ones, over and over. He is only trying to make sense and process what has happened the best he can.

In times of tragedy, you need to circle the wagons, stay close, and be the family safety net your child needs you to be.

Do you remember what you received when you were 4, or 7 or 9?  Not likely.

Long after the glow-in-the-dark-magic-robot has lost his glow and the Barbie nail-polish-in twenty-different-sparkling-colors has dried up, the gifts that don’t fit under the tree live on. I am talking about the gift of an experience.

Experiences speak to children in ways that tangible gifts just can’t.  Experiences are interactive and as such make an indelible mark on a person’s brain.  It is through hands on, active experience that children absorb, evolve and grow the most. Experiences are time-released; they are integrated over time and recalled over and over. They live on in our minds and in our hearts, never to be forgotten.  And an experience that includes a parent or someone special is the icing on the cake (tinsel on the tree!), and they really stick. The gift of an experience is a gift that keeps on giving.

Your child will never forget when her gift from Grandma was going to theater to see The Lion King or when Uncle Jon took him fishing on the pier. Maybe the best gift ever was a camp-out in the back yard with Daddy or taking knitting lessons with Mom.  While the gifts you buy may sparkle under the tree, they are not necessarily the ones that have the greatest impact or the deepest meaning. But they are the longest remembered.

Here are some ideas to get your juices flowing:

1. A camp-out in sleeping bags in the garden, just you and Dad.
2. A lesson in something your child has never tried (gingerbread house making, using a sewing machine, electric guitar playing, calligraphy, woodworking,  fly fishing, horseback riding, surfing) Take the lessons together.
3. Build a skate board ramp with Uncle Ben. (Or build a birdhouse, a train table, a tree house…something the child will use all year.)
4. Plant a vegetable garden together. Then nurture it and reap the harvest together.
5. An all-day fishing trip.
6. An overnight at a dude ranch
7. A visit to a working farm or a dairy to milk a cow (for all the city slickers)
8. A ride in a real police car.
9. Attend a live theater performance of a beloved musical or a special athletic event.
10. A commitment to attend your local high school basketball games, just two of you, for the whole season. Get the spirit!
11. A sleepover at a daytime attraction. The Long Beach Aquarium (Long Beach, CA), Wild Animal Park (San Diego, CA), the science museum, and the zoo all offer special sleepovers for families.
12. And, for children 7 and older, my personal favorite:  a “hookie day.”  Let your child know that one day during the coming year, he will awaken to be told that it isn’t a school day. Which day it will be is a surprise. You and your child will spend a school day together, doing whatever it is that you and she enjoy doing (a bike ride, a hike, a movie, a cooking project…but no school.) No need to spend a penny either.

All these experiences (which arrive in the form of a wrapped certificate), are just for one specific child or for you and your child alone. Having you all to himself is part of what makes the experience so special.

Your child may not be to the moon when he unwraps the gift; he may not get it at all yet. But long after the holiday decorations are put away, it will be a gift he will treasure the most and surely never forget.

Relationships are evolutionary. Parent-child is no exception. It starts in one place and over time ends up in quite another, or it should anyway.  Parents’ roles adapt and shift with every change in the child’s development, keeping step with his need to sprout wings and fly competently and safely.  Each player must see the other in a new role. Throughout a child’s growing years, steadfastly you remain MOM (or DAD), and that position comes with clout and responsibilities. Laying down the law, voicing an opinion, giving suggestions, making course corrections, taking care of business— are all part of that role.  You are the mom, the big kahuna, the nurturer, the knower of all kinds of stuff—from laundry to correct grammar to curing ills.  You welcome and act on the calls for help, and your boundaries, perspective, and opinion are necessary and have weight. Your kids need you to be that brand of parent.

Then you turn around, and in a blink that child is an adult. Parent and child must learn a new dance.    Both need to develop new steps, predicated on seeing one another differently.  Your old roles no longer work. The child, whose developmental task has been to grow up and away, is now an adult, separate from you.  He establishes himself, marks his own territory, and crafts his persona.  His choices, taste, and direction are a compilation of his own experiences, his place in life, his peer group, and his chosen partner. And it may not mesh with Mom’s and Dad’s goals or choices for him. He must tackle life his way.  There’s new kid on the block, and a different kind of parent is needed.

The adult child, however, carries vestiges of childhood. (Are we ever all grown up, really?)  Even as an adult, she cares what her parents think. She still enjoys their approval and basks in her parents’ pride in her.

And therein lies the rub. It is often through that filter that our adult children sometimes hear innocent comments and suggestions as judgmental.  Parents says, “Why don’t you try this?” The adult child hears, “You aren’t doing it right.” (Truth be told, sometimes a parent is judging her child. But that is for another blog.)

At the same time, parents carry vestiges of parenting the younger child.  They still jump in to direct, evaluate, and advise. Her way, as parent, is the best way; she think she knows it all. It’s a role parents are accustomed to playing.  Old dogs have trouble with new tricks.

And for me, a child development and behavior specialist and now a grandmother, it is particularly tricky. It’s true that I know a whole lot about parenting and raising kids of all ages. But that reality is trumped by a different role that I have always played in my children’s lives:  mom. The mother and grandmother in me loves unconditionally. My professional eyes will see parenting behaviors ripe for comment.    While many who flock to me for advice say, “Your kids are so lucky to have you.” I’m not so sure my kids will agree. How could they not feel some apprehension about my judging their parenting skills?  Talk about thin ice!

I recently had an ah ha moment. And maybe I am slow to this show, but I get it now.  It all comes down to communication. Sometimes your adult child may actually want to know your opinion or seek advice; but many times he will not. Maybe he wants to share or he needs to vent. Just like when he was growing up, you are the receptacle for it all. He knows you will love him no matter what. Thank goodness. So, don’t blow it!   Look before you leap, and check it out by asking, “Are you asking for my opinion, looking for advice, or do you want to share (or vent)? I am good either way.” Yes, it is hard to insert that speed bump in your throat, but that control is a crucial part of the new role you play with your adult child.

And, if that fails, I offer this timeless, powerful, and difficult advice:   Just shut up!

“Well, don’t read it! ” I urged. “Just put it away.” (I think I actually suggested that she throw it away.)

That’s kind of an odd recommendation from a parenting expert who has written two award winning parenting books.* But I meant it sincerely. It was the part about teaching young children foreign languages, Mandarin, in particular, that did her in and prompted my response.

There are a plethora, a veritable flood of how-to parenting books on the market. Every day heralds the publication of a new one, pointing the way to raising just the child you hope for.  These books can play to a parent’s worst competitive needs and insecurities. Add the time you need to spend hunting for the right-latest-best-newest-most-eco-friendly-non-BPA everything, and you have a raging case of stress!

Raising children is a journey…more of a hike. I mean that in a good way.  There are hard places, really hard places, parts where you catch your breath, some great vistas, and lots of cool stuff along the way. Like the hike, the normal developmental path of the growing child dishes up challenges (and joys) a plenty. No need to add ankle weights as you climb. If you’re not Chinese, you can forget the Mandarin.

I can promise you that Socrates’ mommy didn’t enroll him in philosophy class. Einstein’s mom didn’t use flashcards (to quote the wonderful book by approximately that title). And I’m quite sure that Mrs. Bell, Alexander Graham’s mother, didn’t fill his after school hours with electronics lessons. The chances that any of those mommies of the world’s most accomplished contributors read any parenting books is nil.

Since forever parents have been raising children.  (Actually, they have been raising adults.) For years parents have been meeting children’s developmental needs, nurturing and educating them, giving them plenty of time to play, explore, and create, and putting them in a position to tackle adult life head on. Children have not needed or been given soccer skills classes at age two, academic tutoring at age three, and figure drawing at age four, and yet  they grew into adults who lead happy lives.

How interesting it is that children in Finland start elementary school at age seven and spend the fewest amount of hours in the classroom in the world.  And in 2006 Finland’s pupils scored the highest average results in science and in reading (and came in second to South Korea in math) in the whole developed world. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/8601207.stm    Do you think their parents gave them Mandarin classes when they were toddlers?

Through time, parents have used common sense, life experience, the village it takes, and expert help when necessary, to raise people who turn out just fine, even highly accomplished.

So, relax, slow down, cancel the Mandarin lessons, put the parenting books back on the shelf.  Use them as needed and not as gospel.

*For the record, my books are absolutely fabulous and should be kept front and center in your library!