Children need our attention for their emotional well-being. A friend with a large family noticed one of her kids had gone quiet for several days. Of course, with adolescents, simply asking what was wrong got this mom nowhere. Then she had the idea to go shopping and invite only this child to accompany her. After their special mommy-daughter time, the girl perked up and was back to her normal self. Whenever the melancholy seemed to creep back in, this mom knew it was time for some one-on-one again. She said to her husband, “Sorry, honey. She needs me to take her shopping,” as she grabbed her purse and dashed.
What a wonderful experience it is for our children to have mommy or daddy all to themselves to explain what’s in their drawing, or describe a bug they found, or — heaven help us — verbally illustrate a dream they had last night. That last one is the worst. That’s when I let them follow me to the kitchen so I can at least be scrubbing potatoes while I listen. I find that giving my attention to one kid at a time keeps me from being stressed out by the big picture. When my baby needs me, I take him to his room and shut the door so I can focus just on him. This only works when your other children aren’t likely to shave the dog or set the couch on fire. But if I can ignore everything else for just a few minutes, it’s incredibly soothing. I can say, “It’s just you and me, baby. You have me completely.” Of course, looking at his cute, chubby face is always therapeutic.
Extending these principles, you can spend one-on-one time with each child as a way of “checking in” or making sure all is well. I start with a finger and toenail check on baby Joe. All clipped and ready to go. When did I last give him a bath? Shoot, has it been that long? Don’t tell my husband. Then I work my way up to the next kid until she goes on for too long about Calvin and Hobbes. Next one: Do you need anything? Order more books from the library? Can do! And the oldest girl — I have to strap in for that one. Once I’ve completed the rounds, I have peace of mind knowing everyone is present and accounted for (lest I inadvertently lose one), and each one’s needs are being met. And if not, I’ll do what I can to be sure they are. Pro tip: Do this every once and a while with your spouse, too!
Younger kids might be bothered that they can’t do the same things as their older siblings, like check the bear traps or drive the Batmobile. At a playground a little girl was crying because she couldn’t swing across the monkey bars like her big brother. The mom assured the girl that her brother was able because he’d done it more times. “Practice makes progress,” she said. I found that interesting. We can’t promise our kids they’ll become perfect at something, even with lots and lots of practice. No one is perfect at everything, despite what you see on Pinterest boards. By using the word “progress,” this mom helped her daughter realize that though she may not be great at something now, she can improve with repeated effort.
The less obvious message is that the popular trope of “you can be anything you want if you just try hard enough” is false. Despite this “good parenting” mantra of our modern culture, not everyone who wants to can become a Nobel Prize winner, or an astronaut, or Adele; which is why, when I sing at Mass, we suddenly end up with empty pews all around us. If your kids discover their big, fabulous dream isn’t coming true, it’s an opportunity to point out that God might not mean for them to cure the common cold, build a better mousetrap, invent a new ice cream flavor, save an endangered species, and all those things on the Game of Life “Life Tiles.” Of course, you should encourage your kids to set reasonable goals, but remind them that if things don’t seem to be working out, it may be because God has another, better plan that will take prayer and time to figure out. As an added bonus, fulfilling that plan will make them far happier even than winning American Idol. Pretending I did, however, comes in handy for those crowded Christmas and Easter Masses.
Seeing your children discouraged or disheartened is hard, though. Whenever a setback came to the children of a mom I know, she’d remind them that it just meant something great was about to happen. Many times I’ve witnessed sad endings being the path to happy beginnings. Like losing a job only to get a better one. Or, in kid language, their bike breaking and getting a new one. Maybe don’t mention that to them, though, just in case their bike “accidentally” falls off a cliff. There are many highs and lows in life, but ultimately, God has our backs.
Leaving your children with an encouraging thought, such as God having it covered, is great at bedtime. Let them drift to sleep with something positive on their mind. My grandmother would always tell my mom, “You’re wonderful” when tucking her in at night. “Jesus loves you, and I do too,” you could say, especially if you butted heads that day, reminding your child that, despite everything, you still love him or her and always will.
You could also have them recall a happy thought from the day or remind them of something to look forward to the next day. (Perhaps not that last thing if they’re the type to stay awake due to excitement.) Maybe they could fall asleep thinking about heaven, or what it would be like to ride on a giant eagle, or what the monster living under their bed looks like. Saint John Vianney’s mom would speak to her children of God, Mary, and the angels before bed. Likewise, when they woke in the morning, she’d be there to remind them of Jesus, first thing.
Let the reminders continue. When a friend drops her kids off at school she tells them, “Be kind and always do your best.” I respect that she goes beyond the cliché of “have fun” or “have a good day.” You could even vary it up with things like “Be a friend to those who need it” or “Keep Jesus close in your thoughts” or “Remember that your guardian angel works for free so don’t press your luck.”
In the evening, try to make family dinner the norm. Being together strengthens the familial bond, builds positive relationships among siblings, and generally keeps teenagers out of the usual teenagery troubles. Younger kids learn new vocabulary words (for good or bad) and proper table manners. Everyone is more apt to eat healthy, and therefore be healthy, and you’ll have a better idea what’s going on in the lives of your kids. To get the ball rolling, you can play the high/low game where each person names the best and worst part of their day: “We bought a new carton of ice cream! That carton is now empty.” It’s a great way to find out what drives and motivates your kids.
Perhaps you’re already familiar with Gary Chapman’s book The Five Love Languages. He identifies them as: physical touch, words of encouragement, quality time, gift giving, and works of service. Chapman asserts that the way a person expresses love through one of those five methods is how he or she also feels love in return. Discovering someone’s language makes it easier to show that person love. Mine must be acts of service, because I love my kids so much more when they do stuff for me.
This methodology also applies to children. Though, for my husband and me, it’s difficult (especially when they’re younger) to discern their love language unless it’s physical touch. I have one like this. She’ll often stop in front of me with her arms out and proclaim: “Hug Momma!” Then she’ll latch on to me and make it hard to walk. Putting forth the effort to understand your kids’ personalities is helpful for knowing what works and what doesn’t with each child. Our oldest wrote us a nice note listing reasons why she loved us, which was very, very long, of course. Among her reasons was not hugging her when she’s upset, or so she emphasized. Learning to accept the hands-off approach with her was difficult for us, but physical comfort only made things worse. (Later we found out writing this letter was her penance from confession, but we’ll take it.)
This child’s attitude, however, helped us learn another important lesson: not to make a mountain out of a molehill. When my kids hurt themselves, I’m kind of like, “meh.” Yes, I’ll tend to the wound, but I won’t make a bigger deal out of it than it warrants. When I was a school secretary, kids would sometimes come to me asking for a Band-Aid for some microscopic cut. When I couldn’t see anything, they’d squeeze until the tiniest drop of blood was visible. My favorite kids were the ones who came to the office with blood I could see from several feet away. I’d say, “Whoa, let me get you a Band-Aid,”