Boston: there are other things I’d rather talk about with my family.
With the tragic event that took place in Boston this week, a number of people have asked me why I didn’t blog, tweet, or post my reaction to Facebook. While I understand it was a high priority news item —and remaining silent about it may have seemed odd—it was the right way for me to handle this situation. My instincts were telling me that whoever was responsible for creating this devastation was getting enough airtime. It disgusted me to think of the attacker at home watching the news or poring over social media—delighting in their sick success. I didn’t want to add to the number of voices that were giving so much attention to the evil person/people who did this.
So, the irony doesn’t escape me that I’m talking about it now. Mind you, I am going to speak in generalities about how to talk to your kids about difficult situations:
1) First, begin by actually talking to them. Unless your kid is living in a completely isolated world, void of media and other humans, they will hear about it. Deliver the message yourself and provide yourself and your child(ren) the opportunity to frame the delivery of information in an appropriate way. This also makes you available to receive their questions.
2) Make them feel safe. When I was a kid, we rarely traveled. Whenever I heard awful news on the radio, I would immediately ask my mother WHERE it happened. I vividly remember her response each time, “Oh, somewhere in the States.” To my young mind, the “States” was a faraway land. It made me feel like my family was safe. When it comes to my own children, we discuss how frightening events can happen anywhere; however, whenever possible, I remind them of the physical distance between them and the tragedy.
3) Empower your children to help. There is no worse feeling than helplessness. Our family donates to victims’ funds, whether there has been a natural disaster or any other kind of tragedy. We gather the children and encourage them to give something up in order to put our family in a position to donate —whether it’s allowance or paper route money, or maybe a planned trip to the movie. It makes them feel like THEY are contributing.
Have you had to field any tough questions over the last few days? How have you handled this situation?
You think this dog looks smart? My dog will be WAY smarter
You know how everyone is the perfect parent—before they have kids? They always know EXACTLY how they would parent saying, “When I have kids, I’ll NEVER cut the crusts off their sandwiches,” and, “My kids will know how to read before starting kindergarten.”
Well, I’ve become that mom —except with my puppy. Our latest little blessing arrives in four weeks, and of these facts I am sure:
- He will be perfectly crate trained. I’m still learning exactly what that means, but I’m convinced it will hold true for my dog.
- My kids will do as they promised. They said they would take care of him, happily picking up poop and going on long walks. The novelty will not wear off. My kids will remain as committed as ever to their dog.
- My dog will be easily housebroken and will only poop in the allocated place in the backyard. Some dog owners have told me I’m overly ambitious, but they don’t have my dog, now do they?
- I like my dogs the same way I like my small humans—well trained. My dog will graduate top of the puppy training school, of course.
- All six kids will be consistent with the puppy, and follow the set rules of training without falter. None of them will ever attempt to smuggle the dog into one of their beds or onto the couch for a cuddle. Never.
- I will not spend a ridiculous amount of money on this pup, which means I won’t get sucked into buying cute doggie coats, luxurious beds, fancy toys, or puppy-sized Halloween costumes. There will be no “doggie bling” in our house. Really, I mean it.
OK, so perhaps I’m living in the same altered reality as those perfect childless parents. But maybe this altered reality exists for a reason; to ensure we keep having kids and adopting dogs. So do me a favour—don’t burst my bubble; it’s keeping me from feeling completely overwhelmed by my new soon-to-be dog mom status.
Actually, no – my tweens don’t have undies that say “feeling lucky?” on them. Yours?
So Victoria Secret released a new line that appears to be targeted at young teens.
I don’t think I’m the only parent who has run from the mall screaming, “Why, why can’t there be something stylish AND age-appropriate for my 12-year-old?” It seems once our daughters outgrow the adorable children’s stores, we are confronted with a shift in marketing, and a plethora of clothing and undergarments that sexualize young girls.
The PINK line is said to be targeted at older girls, but there are many outraged parents who believe marketers have a younger crowd in mind. Imagine purchasing a pair of lacy thongs for your 14-year-old with slogans like “too hot” and “I dare you” across the front. Gross, right? I think if Daddy-o found a pair of those while he was folding the laundry, he’d have a heart attack and die. Full stop.
Here’s the thing; he would never find them. Let’s not forget the power of the consumer. If no one buys this crap, then they have to stop selling it. Parents have to remember they drive purchasing decisions, and ultimately decide where to spend their dollars.
Markets respond to needs —send the message this is not a need. Heck, fancy undergarments are not even a need for this grown up girl. I’ve spent the better half of the last decade wearing nursing bras and plain underwear so I wouldn’t be upset if my water broke in them. As mamas, we should send the bigger message that we’ll stop buying their grown up stuff until they start showing some respect for our daughters.
As a business owner, I am acutely aware of the power of the customer/consumer community. It is a power that businesses need to protect. Tell businesses where the buck stops. As a parent, I work really hard to raise sensible children who don’t want this stuff. Don’t underestimate your power to make the best choice both as a purchaser and, more importantly, as a parent.