Simplicity Parenting (39 page)

What I have seen, clearly and often, is that a parent’s love for their children inspires the first difficult changes of simplification. Excess is removed, and limits are imposed to protect the space and grace of childhood years. What Michelle and Clark noticed is that those limits began to carve a path, not just for Carla, but for the whole family. This is another paradox of the extraordinary power of less. Limits may define that path at first, and provide direction where none existed. But not for long: The path becomes something else, something of your own making, something you have a stake in.

When you act to limit what you
don’t
want for your family, you clarify what you really
do
need, what is important to you. Your values clarify. Simplification is a path of self-definition for the family.

It is quieter when the insistent noise of popular culture, competition, and consumerism are turned down several notches. Just as a singer has to shut out ambient noises to hear their own voice, simplification allows a family to “tune in” to their values, to what works for them, what defines them. The voice that can be heard, as the noise diminishes, is your own, your own true voice as a parent. With distractions increasingly in the background, what develops is a foreground, a center. A family center emerges and strengthens.

“Mom, the girl who sits next to me in class, Marietta, is so stupid. Yesterday, she …” “We don’t use the word
stupid
in our family.” “But everyone uses the word
stupid
. It’s just a word!” “Some people do, and some don’t; but we don’t. When you grow up and have a family, you can decide whether your family will or not.”

As clutter and overwhelm find their way out the door and a less frenetic pace takes hold, your parenting will become less inflamed, too. Greater consistency gives parents the space and grace that we need, too. The family center that is built with consistency—what we do and don’t do, how we behave, and the connection we have, together—helps parents become more centered in their discipline. It builds a trust that makes a child a willing “disciple,” and the parent worthy of being followed. As Michelle and Clark lost their tentativeness with Carla, as their behavior and expectations of her became more consistent, Carla lost a lot of her nervousness and controlling behaviors. It seems Carla didn’t really want to coparent herself; she wanted parents. When Michelle and Clark provided more direction, Carla was able to hop back into the passenger seat, where she belonged.

There’s more to the subject of discipline than I was able to cover in this book. But the simple truth is this: More effective discipline is invariably an outgrowth of the simplification process. I worked further with Michelle and Clark to shift the balance of their communication with Carla from a vast majority of requests with a few instructions to mainly straightforward instructions with a few requests. When everything is a request, you have another form of verbal clutter: “Taylor, howya doing? Would you like to get in the car now? What do you think? Can you buckle up that seat belt? Will you shut the door? Sweetie, is that you throwing those toys up to the front? Would you please stop?” Directions can and should be direct. “Taylor, time to get in the car and buckle up. Shut that door, please.” “I can’t drive with distractions. We don’t throw anything while the car is in motion.” Requests may seem like “gentler” forms of communication, but with so many of them they’re very easy to ignore, and their uniformity make it hard for a child to know what’s really important. They invite response, but not really, so the overall effect is one of background noise. “So Ben, what do you think? Wanna get ready for bed now? Brush your teeth, buddy, okay?” “Bedtime, Ben. You know what to do.” By simplifying the requests you make of your child—asking fewer, but meaning those more—you can begin to “stand inside” each one.

Our instincts strengthen with regular moments of connection with our kids; we’re more responsive, less reactive. We can become a better judge of when there is cause for concern. Our hair trigger relaxes. We can hear about something that happened at school—hear the whole story—without reaching to dial the teacher’s home number (if it isn’t already programmed into speed dial). And when kids know that you won’t go off like fireworks at the slightest thing they mention, they ease up as well. They feel free to talk more.

The effects of simplification extend beyond the parent-child relationship. I’m no longer surprised when a dad who may have begun the process reluctantly for his kids tells me that it has had a profound effect on his marriage, and his intimacy with his wife. When a family slows down, and dramatically limits their distractions and clutter, it won’t just be the kids’ attention that deepens. With less emphasis on stuff and speed, and more consistent opportunities for connection, Dad may very well catch Mom’s eye across the table. When such filters as “Is it true?” Is it kind? Is it necessary?” are being practiced, more respect is felt all around. Simplification offers a new way forward for parents; it aligns their daily lives with the dreams they originally held for their family. Before things got so crazy.

Having children is supposed to be the ultimate shared journey, isn’t it? But a baby’s arrival has all of the subtlety of an earthquake. Very often a couple will only look up several years (and perhaps another baby) later to see how altered their relationship has become. Adjustments have been made, contortions have been adopted, almost all for the sake of the baby; not for each other, or the marriage. Simplification holds the promise of a shared journey. Not a week in Paris, no. This is a longer path, but one with benefits that expand and multiply. And as a midcourse correction for the family, it can be something you and your spouse both embrace and commit to. Couples have reported that through the unexpected triumphs of this process, they regain a mutual sense of purpose and accomplishment. They have feelings that remind them of the emotional wellspring they shared in the delivery room. Feelings they may not have experienced much since.

Does simplification mean that as a parent, all of your decisions will be made? Your way always clear, your instructions always adhered to? To put it simply: no. But as you define the center of your family you will be far less reactive. You won’t be buffeted as much, and blown off course by every new distraction that presents itself. You’ll recognize the societal pressures of “More! Faster! Earlier!” as a centrifugal force that may threaten, but will no longer pull your family apart. Having done the hard work of simplifying, you’ll see when “must-have” things or activities are really just new variations of “More!,” bound to be quickly forgotten or discarded. When your child’s best self is more frequently at home, you’ll have no trouble protecting their time. You’ll instinctively guard the leisure that unfurrows their brow and allows them to follow their curiosity.

After all, they do the same for you all of the time. What better reminder do we have than our kids of our own best selves, our less stressed and more carefree selves? In their silliness we see the echo of the way we used to be: when we were kids, yes, but also before we had kids, or even two weeks ago, before all of the stress of these year-end corporate meetings. Their joy, their infectious enthusiasm, their sense of “mission” as the poor dog is dressed in boxer shorts, cannot help but cajole you, and beckon you, to lighten up. My point is this: Rescue their childhood from stress, and they will inevitably, remarkably, day by day, rescue you right back.

Life will remain unpredictable after you simplify, of course. “Things happen,” as they say. And when you have kids, “things happen” with regularity (and truly remarkable variety). But “things” become far less threatening when viewed from a stable center. The path simplification provides is one that you will move off of on occasion, and will need to find your way back to. But because it’s a path that defines and strengthens who you are together, it allows for bends and corrections. What your family can be without the centrifugal force of distractions and excess becomes internalized. It’s a feeling you will come to recognize, treasure, and protect. A center that holds.

Is there a step in the process of simplification that seems absolutely doable, something you know is possible now, in your own home? This is your starting point, the trailhead of your path toward the larger changes you envision. Once you have a clear image of this task—what you need to do and what your daily life will look like when it is done—get started. Step into that picture… Begin.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
•

I would like to warmly thank my colleagues at Antioch University New England and, in particlar, Torin Finser and Peter Eppig for their unfailing support. To Lisa M. Ross for her inspiring talents and dedication to this book. To Marnie Cochran for her gentle but sure hand in editing.

Also to the many key members of the communities with whom I consult. It is because of their enthusiastic coordinating efforts that this work continues to reach out into the world.

Finally, to my family, and, in particular, Almuth and Harry Kretz, my parents-in-law, for their quiet and unfaltering support.

—K.J.P.

Kim John Payne was delightful to work with—gracious during the process and appreciative of the results. Our collaboration was made all the more enjoyable due to a mutual sense that this book was blessed from the beginning. Marnie Cochran’s consistent editorial support only furthered that impression. Inspirational to me were Waldorf teachers William and Andree Ward and their view of childhood’s rich promise. Thank you to my husband, Jamie, for always listening and offering moral support; to Janet Byrne and Nancy Wiley for their early encouragement; to my parents, Walt and Anita; and most of all to my children, Adair and Jack, who broaden my view of life’s possibilities daily.

—L.M.R.

NOTES
•

1.
David Elkind,
The Power of Play: Learning What Comes Naturally
(New York: Da Capo, 2007), ix.

Chapter One: Why Simplify?

1.
Fred J. Aun, “Study: Kids Latching On to Tech at Earlier Ages,”
E-Commerce Times
, June 6, 2007.

2.
Craig Lambert, “Deep into Sleep,”
Harvard Magazine
, July-August 2005.

3.
Ibid.

4.
Kim John Payne, M.Ed., and Bonnie River, M.Ed., “From Attention Deficit to Attention Priority: A Study of Attention Related Disorders in Waldorf Schools,”
The Waldorf Research Bulletin
, Spring 2002.

5.
Richard DeGrandpre,
Ritalin Nation
(New York: Norton, 1999).

6.
Sharon Begley,
Train Your Mind, Change Your Brain
(New York: Ballantine Books, 2007).

1.
Elkind,
The Power of Play
, 15.

2.
Howard P. Chudacoff,
Children at Play
(New York: New York University Press, 2007).

3.
Juliet B. Schor,
Born to Buy
(New York: Scribner, 2004).

4.
“Kids: a Powerful Market Force,” BNET Business Network,
http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_hb4704/is_200107/ai_n17263171
.

5.
Schor,
Born to Buy
, 25; David Futrelle, “Are Your Kids Normal About Money,”
Money
, December 2005.

6.
Mary Pipher,
The Shelter of Each Other
(New York: Putnam, 1996), 93.

7.
Michel Marriott, “Gadget or Plaything, Let a Child Decide,”
New York Times
, February 17, 2005.

8.
Schor,
Born to Buy
, 56.

9.
Marriott, “Gadget or Plaything.”

10.
Victoria J. Rideout, Elizabeth A. Vandewater, and Ellen A. Wartella,
Zero to
Six: Electronic Media in the Lives of Infants, Toddlers, and Preschoolers
(Menlo Park, Calif.: Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation, 2003).

11.
Schor,
Born to Buy
, 62.

12.
Alix Spiegel, “Old-Fashioned Play Builds Serious Skills,” National Public Radio,
Morning Edition
, February 21, 2008.

13.
Richard Louv,
Last Child in the Woods
(Chapel Hill, N.C.: Algonquin, 2005) 178.

14.
Robin Marantz Henig, “Taking Play Seriously,”
New York Times Magazine
, February 17, 2008.

15.
Victoria J. Rideout and Elizabeth Hamel,
The Media Family: Electronic Media in the Lives of Infants, Toddlers, Preschoolers and Their Parents
(Menlo Park, Calif.: Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation, 2006).