I’m a diehard, bleeding-heart liberal. And it’s ruining my parenting.
My intentions are good. I want my two daughters, 6, to think critically, to fight for fairness and justice whenever they can. I want them to value equality above all else. But sometimes, I also need them to do what I say. This contradiction is hard to explain.
Take a recent incident, involving some candy. I’d given each girl the same number of gumballs. But one of my daughters lost some. She then implored me for extra. “Now I have less and that’s not fair,” she moaned.
“But they’re my candy! It’s not my fault we lost some of hers!” the other one replied.
My solution — to put all the gumballs together in one bowl and split them equally — was unacceptable to both. All afternoon, they threw tantrums, slammed doors, or tried to slyly outwit me, crumbling when I didn’t fall for it.
“How about we keep our own gumballs and I get an extra other kind of candy that she doesn’t get?” said one.
“Why am I being punished for her missing candy?” asked the other.
Three hours later, the result was the same as it would’ve been had I taken a sterner approach from the get-go: We did what I said. But what should have taken five minutes took three hours, and everyone was in a bad mood.
* * *
I remember being a little kid. While my mother was amazing, I never felt like I had a say. What she said went, end of story. I spent my childhood bemoaning how unfair it all was (like, I know, every little kid ever). I had to overcome many obstacles to learn that my voice was important.
But I’ve gone too far in the other direction.
Three is probably a bit too young for the pay-gap speech, but there I was, explaining why I turned down a low-paying position at a local business. It’s a big world out there, and I want my girls to know what they’re worth. But since they’re so little, their whole world is our home, and their needs. The poor and disadvantaged? In their world, it’s them, when they don’t get their way.
I’ve given them power they don’t know what to do with. So minor decisions that should be left to the parent (like, say, wearing tights without holes in them) become ruthless, time-consuming battles that add unnecessary dissonance to their lives.
I thought my parenting approach would lead to strong, confident girls who are able to assess situations and logically thwart unequal systems. And it probably will, someday. But right now? They’re 6. The lessons I’ve taught them have led to two very dissatisfied girls who don’t know if their mother is their friend, their adversary or their keeper.
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