Simplicity Parenting (30 page)

Worry and concern are sewn into the cloth of parenting; they’re integral parts of the experience. Our lives are rocked when we become parents, forever changed by the seismic shift we make clearing enough space in our hearts, intentions, and priorities to place another’s well-being before our own. A large part of what we offer them is our care and concern until they can care for themselves. But in this moment with Annmarie (and many similar moments with other parents), what struck me most was the feeling of something being out of balance. Worry may be an aspect of parenthood, but it shouldn’t define it. When it rises to
the top of our emotions, coloring the waters of our relationship with our children, something is not right.

Raised in Michigan, Annmarie was one of eight children. Her twins shared her white-blond hair, testament to her Norwegian heritage. I asked her if she thought her mother had experienced the same worries about her and her siblings when they were young. “Not a chance!” Annmarie replied, with a laugh. “My parents are good people, and we never doubted their love. But there were so many of us kids, and my parents were so busy, that we were largely on our own. And things were different then. The house was never locked. There just wasn’t so much to be worried about.”

Was being a parent dramatically different just a generation ago? Is there really that much more to worry about today? Are there substantially more risks to children’s safety and well-being? We’ll look at the risks, and our perception of them, in a bit more detail. But what strikes me so often now is how our fears and concerns for our children have eclipsed our hopes for them, and our trust. Anxieties are often traded like currency. In the landscape of parenting today, fear has cast a long shadow over trust: trust in our children’s evolving sense of self, in their world, their developmental path … and in our own instincts as parents.

I believe that simplifying a child’s daily life is one of the best ways to restore a sense of balance in parenting. By simplifying their toys and environment, their schedules, and the sense of rhythm and regularity in the home, you allow them the grace to be a child. You allow your connection and your values to gain purchase, to rise above the noise of acceleration and excess, the drive for “the next big thing” to do, have, or attain. Simplifying acknowledges how a child comes to understand the world—through play and interaction, not through adult concerns and information. The pressure is off when childhood is no longer seen as an “enrichment opportunity” but instead as an unfolding experience—an ecology—with its own pace and natural systems. By consciously backing off the adult sense of “more!” and “faster!” and “earlier!” parents back out of a child’s world, protecting it without trying to control it.

In this chapter we’ll look at important ways to continue the process of simplifying by erecting filters to prevent a child’s world from being deluged with adult information, pressures, and concerns. We’ll learn the value of not sharing, of the freedom they gain when they’re not privy to our fears, drives, ambitions, and the very fast pace of our lives. When anxiety is not allowed to pollute the atmosphere of our homes, we breathe easier as well. Our grip, as parents, relaxes. We’ll consider the
overall picture of our parental involvement with our children. We’ll look at the enormous pressures society brings to bear on parents today, pressures that have turned parenting into a competitive sport. Pressures that have prompted many parents into “helicopters,” to hover over their children, ever vigilant, held aloft by the fuel of anxiety.

I remember the silence of that late summer afternoon as Annmarie and I pondered what she had just said. As a parent, what she felt most of the time, and most keenly of all, was worry. She knew as well as I did that something was out of balance, that she needed to find more ease and joy, more flow in the waters of her day-to-day life with Krista and Peter. For our kids’ sake, let’s look at how to simplify further, how to filter out some of the pressures and anxieties of adult life that are pouring into our children’s awareness. Let’s consider how to simplify our involvement in their lives, how to build a “base camp” of security, one that allows
them
to venture forth to explore the world, and
us
to land that helicopter—to park it—permanently, out of gas.

Houseguests

Imagine that your spouse’s brother, Andy, has just moved in with your family. He’s very well liked, a good guy, but quite the monologist, so being with him tends to be a rather “passive” occupation. The kids love him! They find him riveting and spend as much time with him as possible. Because of this, they aren’t getting out much, not playing with friends, reading, or riding bikes as much as they used to, but you figure that will even out over time.

Andy is entertaining, and since he knows a lot, he can also be informative. But honestly, he really goes too far sometimes, sharing stories and pictures with the kids that are scary, brutal, or even provocative. What’s more, it seems like every time you turn around he’s telling them about some cool new thing to eat or to play with … something they don’t have but now want. Something you wish they had never even heard about. You can get him to knock it off; he really will change course, but it requires nearly constant vigilance on either your part, or your spouse’s. Since he’s always around now, and the kids are so taken with him, it’s often easier (and you get more done) when you just let him be. You might as well accept the bad with the good; none of you can imagine life without Andy anymore.

When you add it up, your older kids are spending at least three hours a day with their uncle. Even your youngest (age two) has figured
out how entertaining he is, and she now spends more time with him each day than she does outside. You’re no exception. After a long day, you often sit back and let him entertain you, too. And he knows how to get your attention. Quite often you find yourself leaning forward, transfixed by the bad-news tales he tells—ranging from guilt-inducing to grisly—that pertain to kids. Where does he get them all? He knows they make you anxious, but he also knows that you’ll listen; you won’t make him stop.

You and your spouse have done so much to simplify life for your family, your kids. Andy definitely doesn’t understand what you’re trying to do. You’ve cleaned out your kids’ rooms, so they’re not overwhelmed by toys. (Now, because of him, they’re constantly hearing about new ones.) You’ve streamlined your food, getting rid of a lot of the big-hit sugary snack foods that hijack your kids’ nervous systems and everyone’s waistlines. (Unfortunately, your brother-in-law is forever tempting them with some new pseudo-food. You hold the line, but it’s an awful lot of work.) Your meals together used to be wonderful times for mutual sharing, but sometimes now the kids would rather hang with their uncle than eat. (And even when he eats with the family, he tends to dominate.) You’ve simplified your kids’ schedules, cutting back on some of the classes and activities that were robbing them of free time. (Yet any spare time that they gained is now spent listening to their uncle.)

As far as simplifying goes, Andy doesn’t “get it.” He also doesn’t see how often he’s working at cross-purposes with you. He doesn’t have kids, and, fun as he can be sometimes, he certainly isn’t driven by your kids’ best interests. Some of your friends don’t see it, either; they’re unsympathetic. “What’s the problem? We have guests, too. Can’t you just control him?” It’s a never-ending argument; it seems unwinnable.

If you came to me with this problem, my advice would be unequivocal. Andy might be an okay guy, but I’d suggest that you kick him out, especially if your kids are under seven years of age.

Andy isn’t an uncle, you see. “Andy” is a television. I would have said that from the beginning, making it clear that the black hole of a houseguest I was describing was really the almighty box. I would have, but I was concerned that you would read no further.

Simplifying Screens

The verbal expression of simplifying is “No, thanks.” One doesn’t have to be an antitech Luddite to want some space and grace in a child’s early
years. To say no thanks to some of the societal pressures that push them—ready or not—into adulthood. Our dreams for them include success as adults, success in a technologically complex future that will surely be more advanced than our own era. Yet for many parents (and early childhood experts) there is a connection, not a contradiction, between that vision of future success and a less technology-oriented, more human-focused start to life.

A critical step in simplifying your children’s daily lives is to simplify the “screens” in your home: television (the one that still monopolizes most of our free time), computers, video games, and handheld electronic devices. Because screens are so much a part of our lives, this step is not the place to start, especially if you are an inveterate news junkie or if screens are everywhere in your home. But once you’ve begun simplifying, once you’ve seen how your children relax into themselves when they’re not overloaded, you’ll be anxious to take this very effective and liberating step. It is one of the most critical changes you can make to safeguard their childhoods and ease your anxieties. And it is one of the most rewarding ways to simplify daily life.

When you simplify screens, you install valves to stop the all-day, everyday rush of information and stimulation pouring into your home. For your children, the importance of this step is fairly obvious, and I believe its effects will extend far beyond what you imagine or hope. If you’ve simplified in other ways successfully, you might think of this as an insurance policy for the work you’ve already done, and an expansion of the positive changes you’ve seen.

After all, television is a direct counterforce to simplifying, and it’s stronger than the mightiest parent armed with good intentions. Television runs on commercials, the siren song of “stuff.” An altar of commercialism, it is your home’s most efficient conduit of clutter. And television can easily suck up any free, unstructured time you’ve gained by simplifying schedules. Between 1965 and 1995 Americans gained an average of six hours a week in leisure time; we then devoted all but a few minutes of it to watching TV.
¹

What’s more, television seems to be the most influential media portal in the home. The Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation, which has done several landmark studies on Americans’ use of media, found that kids in “high TV orientation” homes (those with easy and unrestrained access to television) report almost two and a half hours more media exposure daily.
²
In other words, television seems to be the pivot point of a family’s relationship to media in the home, and a predictor of how much
overall media exposure a child will have throughout their childhood years. For this reason, I’ll concentrate mainly on television in my recommendations for simplifying screens.

This is an old debate, one that will continue to be waged as ever more technological “screens” compete for our children’s time and attention. It is also an issue that can divide the closest of couples. Do the risks of television outweigh the benefits? How much is too much? We know “the tube” doesn’t have the best interests of our family or kids at heart—we do. Television is a media device, designed to entertain and to sell product. As such it is not an “uncle,” not a friend or family member, but a stranger, and yet one whose place (usually in the center of the home) is unquestioned and seemingly irrevocable.

Simplifying screens will lighten your heart and bring more balance to your parenting, perhaps more than any of the earlier steps. Sensationalism, fearmongering, and violence sustain the profit margins of many media and entertainment industries. And given that their reach is omnipresent in our culture, it’s liberating to know we can draw a small line in the sand: the line around our home. We can say no thanks to some of it, at least while our kids are very young.

To the question of television’s risks versus rewards, neurodevelopmental science has provided some clear answers, at least in terms of very young children. The human brain is the least developed of our organ systems at birth. Most of its development, including its fundamental neural architecture, occurs during the first two years of life, in relation to and in interaction with environmental stimuli. Neurologists have identified three types of stimuli or interaction that optimize brain growth. (Any parent who’s put in considerable lap or floor time with a baby can probably list these, too, in layman’s terms.) Babies need interaction with parents and other humans; they need to manipulate their environment (to touch things, to feel and move them), and they need to do “problem-solving” activities (such as the eternal “where did it go?” problem-solving of peekaboo).
³

Of these three critical forms of interaction, television provides
none. For our littlest ones, neurodevelopmentally speaking, the “rewards” side of the television equation seems to be blank. Since 1999, the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) has recommended that children under two years of age watch no television, and that children over two limit their viewing.
⁴
In 2008, France banned its broadcasters from airing TV shows aimed at children under three years of age, stating: “Television viewing hurts the development of children under three years old and poses a certain number of risks, encouraging passivity, slow language acquisition, over-excitedness, troubles with sleep and concentration, as well as dependence on screens.”
⁵