Love, Joy, Feminism
To Train Up A Child, chapter 9, part 3
This week we’re finally going to finish the “Training Examples” chapter. I’m really at a loss as to what to bring out as a theme here, except that Michael and Debi apparently know nothing at all about children. Seriously, wait until you get to the end of this section. I knew more about children, and how they react and should be responded to, at age fifteen than Michael and Debi display here.
BEGGARS CAN’T BE CHOOSERS
A child should NEVER whine and beg. This is an easy habit to break. Never reward a beggar, and the beggar will go away. In our house, the one sure way of not getting your desire was to beg or whine. We went out of our way to not reward a begging child. If we had purchased a treat for the children, and one of them became impatient and whined for it or asked twice, he was certain to be excluded, even if it meant watching the other children eat the ice-cream he had begged for. If I was preparing to pick up a small child and he whined to be picked up, then I did not pick him up until he became distracted—even though it meant inconvenience for me.
You may envision such a rule being enforced in your house to the tune of constant wailings of injustice. The very thought of it may make you feel like a tyrant. If you gave it a 99% consistent try, you would not be satisfied with the results. If a child ever gets his way through begging or whining, he will try it ten times until it works again. If the experience proves to be counterproductive, he will soon stop wasting his energy in fruitless whining. When beggars can’t choose, they choose not to beg.
In my own parenting, I have learned something interesting about whining. Two things, actually.
First, it generally works very well to respond to whining by showing the child how to ask for whatever it is they want in a way that is more socially acceptable, more pleasant, and more productive. If Sally is whining for something, I’ll say “Sally it’s okay, you don’t need to whine. How else can you ask for me to get you what you want?” In other words, it’s a lot more productive to turn whining into a learning experience than it is to just ignore it. This works at a young age, too—if Bobby comes to me whining I’ll show him how to sign for what he wants, and he’s generally fairly enthusiastic about it.
The second thing I’ve learned is that whining happens most frequently when I haven’t been paying attention to or listening to my child. Sally generally asks for something properly the first time, and then if I’m busy and ignore her, or if I brush her off rather than giving her my full attention and communicating with her about it, she turns to whining. In other words, if my children are whining it’s usually (though not always, of course) at least partly (and sometimes largely) my fault. When I realize this is happening, I put away what I was working on or turn away from my conversation and apologize, and say I’m sorry, mommy wasn’t listening, mommy is listening now, what is it you want?
Does this mean I always give them what I ask for? No. But when I don’t, I explain to them what is going on, talk to them about considering others’ needs or considering factors they hadn’t been thinking of (money, for instance), and comfort them when they are disappointed to not get what they want. This does not always work. Sometimes things still escalate into a tantrum, which I basically will just ride out. Usually, though, it does work. But in the process, I am teaching them valuable skills—communication, empathy, and handling disappointment.
I guess what I’m saying is that while Michael’s way of doing things may cut down on the amount of whining, there are other ways to cut down on whining that are more productive in the long term. Also, it’s worth bearing in mind that sometimes children do whine, and that’s okay. Children have a lot to learn before they reach adulthood, and they can’t expect to know it all at once. Just because something is annoying or unpleasant does not mean that it can or should be eradicated.
THE HARD WAY
For two years after our first child, my wife was unable to conceive; when she finally did, she had a miscarriage. After three years, the little fellow whose name we had picked out five years earlier was finally born. Our first son! My wife was ever so possessive. By the age of one, he was so attached to her that I had to submit a request well in advance if I wanted to spend some time with her. We were in no danger of having any more children. He could not be left with a baby sitter unless she was blessed with deafness. I didn’t know much about children, and thought this was just a stage that would run its course. A friend who had more experience as a father was the one to show us different.
I guess the men just had all they could take of this two-year-old with the umbilical cord still attached. My wife was the child’s willing slave until that fateful day in April. I can still see my friend walking up to the car where we were unloading at a church outing. With the other conspirators shadowed in the background, he came up to my wife, reached out, swept Gabriel away and said, “I’ll take him,” and was gone.
I couldn’t understand what he wanted with that bucking, screaming, desperate kid who was reaching back over his shoulder pleading with his mother to rescue him. His accomplices closed in behind him as if to prevent any rescue. I supposed the misguided fellows would soon want to return him like one would want to return a cold to its donor.
To my wife it was the opposite of giving birth. She was being weaned. After a couple of hours the “trainer” came back around with a new Gabriel, laughing and enjoying the men’s company. He didn’t run to his mother or resume his crying.
To our amazement, from that moment on the umbilical cord was dried up, and we had a little boy whose world was larger than his mother’s arms. Ha! And I had my wife back! The next boy was soon on the way, and did not come to be an extension of his mother’s self-image.
I’m not entirely certain what point Michael is trying to make with this story. Regardless, I find it a bit contradictory that Michael speaks here of the problems of this overly close attachment between child and mother while Debi writes elsewhere that a mother should never leave her children alone with anyone, even for ten minutes, lest that child be molested.
One of my little brothers was like this, so attached to my mother that she would literally sneak out of the house when she had to go shopping. I have a friend who is a stay at home mother whose young son is similarly attached. I have never had to worry about this, largely, I think, because my children are both in daycare and are used to trusting (and being loved by) multiple caregivers. Every child is an individual so I cannot speak in absolutes here, but I would hazard a guess that children who are used to multiple caregivers run a lower risk of being so fearfully attached to their mother that they have to literally be pried away. And yet, Debi has warned women against having multiple caregivers for their children.
I guess I just feel like the Pearls are once again putting parents—and mothers in a particular—in a no-win situation.
AS THE WHEEL TURNS
When my wife baby-sits for the saints, it is always understood to be on the condition we have full liberty to discipline and train. We try to be realistic and use discretion in determining what can be effectively accomplished in the time allotted. We consider the child’s trust in us, his or her acquaintance with our technique, the parent’s sensitivity and the child’s emotional state.
I would never leave my child with someone on the condition that they have full liberty to discipline my child however they see fit. Never. Also, why is Debi babysitting when she’s told her readers to never leave a child with someone else for even ten minutes, including babysitters?
On one occasion, Deb was keeping a mixed group of about ten children and babies, all from four different families attending a seminar. A couple’s first child, about fifteen months old, was highly overindulged and showed it. He had been trained to expect constant catering and pacifying. As a result, he was a most demanding individual. He was missing his “mother-servant,” and was “complainey”—not just the: “I’m sad and lonesome, won’t someone love me?” His crying said: “I’m mad as all get out. Things are not going my way. Where is my Mama anyway? I’m going to make everyone pay for this treatment. This will be a night they will not want to repeat. I’ll see to it.”
If this child’s mother is a stay at home mother who doesn’t often leave him with a sitter, it is only natural for him to feel this way. I kept Sally home until she was just this age, and then put her in daycare. For the first few weeks, she was absolutely screaming angry each day I left her there—and not just angry. She was scared—and with good reason! She had never been apart from me like this, except when I would leave her with Sean or a well-known relative for short periods of time. That seems to be what Debi is forgetting here—that this baby is scared. (In case you’re wondering, Sally soon got used to daycare, began to enjoy going there, and bonded with her caregivers.)
The children were all placed at the table for a snack. After a couple of minutes, the little fellow began to pout. He didn’t like the entree or the company. He got down and began to complain. Giving him more leeway than we would have one of our own, my wife handed him a potato chip in which he had previously shown delight. True to his attitude, he defiantly threw it on the floor.
My ever patient wife, who was also quite busy, picked him up and placed him in a big, soft chair, handing to him a brightly colored roller-skate. She took a moment to show him what fun it was to hold it upside down and turn the wheels. “See, turn the wheels,” she said. With defiance, he turned his face away. This otherwise sweet child had developed (rather the parents had developed) a selfish and rebellious spirit. If left to himself, he will “bring his mother to shame.” My wife always had a special fondness for this child, and it hurt her to see him developing such a nasty attitude.
Or maybe he’s just scared and upset to be apart from his mother and wants to be left alone until she comes back. He’s not obligated to eat the food Debi gives him or play with her toys now, is he?
Be warned—it’s about to get much, much worse.
She decided it was showdown time. She ignored the other children, who were happily investigating and rearranging everything on the table, and quickly obtained her switch (twelve inches long and about the diameter of a small noodle). She again placed the skate in front of him and gently and playfully said, “Turn the wheel.” Again, he defiantly turned his head away whimpering. She again demonstrated the fun of rolling the wheel and repeated the command. Again, defiance.
This time, being assured he fully understood it to be a command, she placed his hand on the wheels, repeated the command, and when no obedience followed, she switched his leg. Again, in a mild but firm voice she commanded him to turn the wheel. Self-will dies hard. My wife brought other children over to demonstrate the fun of wheel turning. Pulling his hand as far from the skate as possible, he covered his right hand with his left-apparently to reinforce his resolve, or to demonstrate it.
After about ten acts of stubborn defiance, followed by ten switchings, he surrendered his will to one higher than himself. In rolling the wheel, he did what every accountable human being must do—he humbled himself before the “highest” and admitted that his interests are not paramount. After one begrudged roll, my wife turned to other chores.
I’m sorry, but the child not wanting to play with the toy Debi gives him is defiance? Really? The child is whimpering! He doesn’t want to play with the toy, he just wants to be left alone! But instead of recognizing the child’s fear, discomfort, and confusion (why is this adult trying to force him to play with this toy?—that has got to be confusing!), Debi compounds all of these by switching the child. And Debi’s not just hitting him with the switch to surprise him, though that would be bad enough. No, Debi is inflicting actual and very real pain on the child. As Michael has written, “any spanking, to effectively reinforce instruction, must cause pain.”
A few minutes later she noticed he was turning the wheels and laughing with the other children—with whom he had previously shown only disdain. The surly attitude was all gone. In its place was contentment, thankfulness and a fellowship with his peers. The “rod” had lived up to its Biblical promise. When the parents were informed of the transformation, they intensified their training program.
I grew up doing a lot of babysitting. I think everyone in our evangelical megachurch probably figured that with so many younger siblings I must be a pro at caring for small children—and they were right. I never spanked the children I babysat. Their parents were frequently a part of the church but not my family’s homeschooling community, and even when the families homeschooled I don’t remember ever being give authority to spank. I can tell you this, though—from reading this passage alone, I can say with certainty that I know a heck of a lot more about babysitting than Debi does. Why? Because, quite simply, even at fifteen I knew that it would be an absolute disaster to respond to a child’s sadness at being separated from her parent by spanking her.
When you arrive to babysit a small child and the parents leave, that child is frequently upset. She may be in tears or she may just be quiet and sad looking. This is understandable! The best thing to do is to coax the child with some interesting activity—a toy or a game or a snack. But in many cases, the child will rebuff that offer and continue to look sad or desolate. At that point the best thing to do is to give the child space and wait, preferably keeping the toy or game or snack at hand for when the child is ready. Eventually, the child will stop mourning her parents’ disappearance and look tentatively at you, the babysitter. That is the time to smile as non-threateningly as you can and hold out the toy, game, or snack. Nine times out of ten the child will be sitting contentedly in your lap and chatting happily by the time her parents return. The key is to let the child warm up to you gradually, in her own time, without pushing it.
But apparently Debi doesn’t know any of that. Apparently Debi thinks that a child crying for his mother (or father, why are we leaving out fathers here?) is displaying rebellion and defiance and must be hit with a switch in response. And then, when the child eventually moves past his fear and sadness at being left and cheers up, engaging with other children and playing with toys—as is normal for children left with a babysitter—this is somehow taken as evidence that switching the child into submission immediately after his mother left was the correct course of action. I’ll tell you what this is—this is sick.
To tie these two last anecdotes together, how would Michael have felt if the men who ran off with his son at a church event had promptly sat him down and started switching him for not doing exactly as they told him to do? Would he seriously have been okay with that? Does he seriously think his son was laughing when they brought him back because they switched him until he stopped frowning, rather than because, as is more likely, the showed him a creek or a field or a tree or something else a child that age finds fascinating? Inquiring minds want to know.
Next week we start with safety training—guns, hot stoves, and nearby ponds.
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