I’m calling BS on the whole ‘peaceful parenting’ ideal!

 

The last two mornings have been really tough, and I’ve shouted at my child.

I’m not proud of losing my temper, not at all. And if I’ve gone down in your estimation by admitting it, then so be it. Feel free to unsubscribe now. I gave up the belief that I had to be perfect in order to effectively help others some years ago (probably around the same time I became a parent!)

I share it with you however because it’s been a grave reminder to me how easy it is for parenting-guilt to arise. In my book The Imperfect Parent I call it the Shitty Guilt Fairy. And oh my, does the Shitty Guilt Fairy love it when I lose the plot! She kicks off her sparkly shoes and settles in, good and proper. And guess what comes with her? You’ve got it, the good old Inner Critic. This version is special however and probably hurts the most  – the Inner Parenting Critic.

The biggest pearl of wisdom I’ve ever learned from a parenting-psychologist (one which I drove 6 hours to go and train with for one day, and 6 hours back) was this:

“F#^k our kids. We give them everything we’ve got and they still demand three times as much!”

And isn’t that just the truth? The parenting equation isn’t one that is set up fairly, in my view. We do our best, we care, and we have the best of intentions to be the BEST parent we can be at any given time. We care for them, love them, teach them right from wrong and try hard to not give them labels that are hard to grow up with

And it’s when we’ve given everything and they still need more and push our buttons, that’s a recipe for losing it. For the last two mornings I’ve encountered nothing but obstacles and complaints one after the other, that have driven me to the end of my tether:

I can’t wear those leggings, the kids will laugh at me (dissolves into screaming fit)
I don’t want that toothbrush I want an electric toothbrush! (dissolves into screaming fit)
I don’t want to wear that because it’s been in the washing machine! (dissolves into screaming fit)
I wanted to sleep with my glo-ears on! I didn’t want you to take them off! (dissolves into screaming fit)
My socks are falling down! (dissolves into screaming fit)
My egg tastes like a vanilla tree and it’s making me really sick! (refuses to eat, dissolves into screaming fit)

Let me be really clear on my stance on parenting and why I wrote my book: I DO NOT BELIEVE in courses that claim to achieve “Peaceful Parenting”. If you’ve done them and they’ve worked for you, and you can remain 100% calm 100% of the time, then good for you! I’ve received criticism for this stance on social media and I’m fine with that. It doesn’t change my stance. I find the most effective way of living my life is to be a realist. For me, these so called ‘goals’ are lofty and unattainable and therefore extremity unhelpful to us as parents in the expectations they create. I don’t believe they are achievable, and when we fail to achieve them, as we inevitably will, it simply gives us another reason to beat ourselves up. In my view, even the Dalai Lama would struggle to keep his cool after 24 hours of parenting. And who knows how he’d do with a particular challenging child, or doing it solo, or doing it sleep-deprived, or a combination of all three?

Of course we all want to be calmer and not lose it quite so often. But because of the above – that we give them all we have and they still demand three times as much– losing it is inevitable. And what I DO NOT LIKE  is the cruel guilt-driven beat ups that parents give themselves about being “a bad mum” or “not cut out for this” or whatever. I’m calling BS on the whole thing!! 

Losing it is inevitable. How we treat ourselves in response to that is optional. 

I’m not going to lie. I’ve heard my Inner Parenting Critic the last few days. I’ve felt the guilt, and it’s hurt. I’ve been in floods of tears, completely undone by it all. And you know what? I’m so glad I know how to get myself out of that spiral these days. If I didn’t have an Inner Coach Practice (and let’s face it some really good friends) then I dread to think how far down the spiral I would actually go. Once again, if I go down in your estimations for admiring that, then so be it. But it’s the truth.

Self-compassion, self-empathy, forgiveness and kindness are the only ways to genuinely learn and move on. 

With love for all the parents out there. It’s the hardest job in the world, and because you care and are self-aware, you’re doing amazingly well.

Charlotte x

Why You Need To Stop Calling My Child Shy

Have you ever wondered what your childhood ‘label’ is and how it might be negatively impacting you as an adult?  Let’s take a look at that and at why you need to stop calling my child shy.

To share a personal story with you. I was at a small playground a few weeks ago with my four year old daughter. She was playing happily, I was sitting on the sidelines.  She got onto the sea-saw at which time a grandmother with a much older child – perhaps around 10 years old – comes over.

The child gets on the sea-saw with my daughter, who we shall call Pup (for that is her nickname). Pup then decides she doesn’t want to be on it any more, gets off and comes over to me.

That could be a reasonable end to the story.

The 10 year old however sits there, expectantly, while the grandmother repeatedly and pointedly looks over at us, expecting Pup to come back onto the sea-saw.  I should reiterate here that these are absolute strangers to us. 

When Pup chooses not to – because why should she? – she is repeatedly labelled as ‘shy’ by the grandmother. Like, about 5-6 times: “She’s shy? Oh, she’s shy!  She’s feeling shy today? Is she a bit shy? Oh, she must be shy….” etc.  

I found this totally infuriating.  

Why You Need To Stop Calling My Child Shy

It mirrored something that happened with a kindy mum recently. She’s one who always wants to stop and chat, and on this one occasion, she decided she wanted to have a conversation with Pup.

She asked her some questions, and Pup clearly couldn’t be bothered to engage, so she stayed quiet and circled my leg and waited for the woman to go away so she could get on with her morning. Once again, we got “Oh, are you a bit shy this morning?”

I found this totally infuriating, too.

Why?

Here’s the thing, this is why you need to stop calling my child shy.  Anyone who knows Pup knows that she is far from ‘shy’.  She is an extrovert.  She is open and willing to engage with a variety of people. She has a wide circle of friends and is popular and socially capable.  Those familiar with Clifton StrengthsFinder will notice she has a lot of ‘Woo’.

And, you know what else she is? She’s discerning. She is capable of making a choice about who to engage in and indeed the right context in which to engage. As do I.  Is she reticent and quiet sometimes?  Of course!  As I am.  As most members of the population are.  And have a right to be. We have a variety of emotions on a wide spectrum and we have a right to feel them when we feel them.

I looked at the grandmother squarely in the face, and said, “She’s not shy at all. She just doesn’t want to go on the sea-saw right now.”

I made sure Pup heard. It was a confrontational move, but I’d rather have an adult feel uncomfortable with a social interaction than have my daughter internalise an unhelpful label.

Here are the things that make me uncomfortable about this kind of unhelpful labelling:

It is a word that the adult in the situation is using to make themselves feel comfortable at having just been rejected. That’s all. 

If it said enough times or in a context where the child is feeling vulnerable, it can be internalised by them. This means they believe the label as the truth, and start to think of themselves, their behaviours and capabilities in the context of it and only it. In other words, they become the label. 

It can take just a few seconds for this to happen in their neurology, and yet it can last and limit them for a lifetime. 

You can relate to this, can’t you?  What was your childhood label and how limiting do you still find it? 

Why is this unhelpful now, and in the long term?  Because it’s a limitation. If you believe yourself to BE something, you’ll become it, whether it is true, accurate or correct or not, you grow into the label and it dictates how you feel and behave. 

If the label happens to be something useful like considerate or kind, then we are not so concerned.  However as we know from our evolutionary function the negativity-bias, your brain is less likely to internalise the positive, only the negative.

A labelling word like shy is also static and inflexible – meaning that your brain treats it as an object that is permanent, rather than an activity. The opposite example would be sometime like ‘I can quieten and go inward in certain situations where I don’t feel entirely comfortable’. See how this has become an action, a fluid sequence of events, in a specific context?

See how you can begin to see in an around it, and begin to work with it?  That there are counter-examples, other contexts where you are not quiet? See how it becomes less about WHO YOU ARE and more a behaviour that happens AT CERTAIN TIMES?  See how much more useful this description is compared to the labelling word?

These are just some of the reasons why you need to stop calling my child shy.

My recommendations: don’t use these words with your children or yourself. Don’t allow others to use them with your kids. Challenge them when they are used to stop the seed from planting. You can do this.

Heal your own unhelpful labels from childhood. Remember: you only internalised them and believed them because you were young and vulnerable. They are not the absolute truth or correct. Try describing the behaviour like I have above, in the context in which is actually occurs, and see the difference this makes.

You may be interested in my upcoming online eCourse on transforming your Inner Critic to Inner Coach. Language matters, and inner-language matters even more. You can change this and become more of who you really are.

Illustration: Sue Kerr.