Talk to Your Children About Every Little Thing, Especially Your Unconditional Love

I'm not sure at what age Ethan and his best friends discovered getting high off cough medicine, or who presented them with the idea. I don't know if it came from the internet or another friend, and it doesn't really matter.

If Ethan had died from long term abuse of alcohol, heroin use, cocaine, crack or meth, I think people would understand better that some system had failed. Kids are taught well in school DARE classes about the dangers of these drugs. Parents through the media and society in general have absorbed the knowledge that these substances are dangerous. Laws exist to make it harder and deter some kids who still feel the need to meet society's standards. There are numerous facilities to treat the addiction. I would feel like there wasn't a lot I could add to that conversation.

But that wasn't the case, so for parents and teens, even middle schoolers, here are some things you should know.

A drug that is legal can still be lethal. Cost, accessibility, and even the lack of a prescription doesn't make it safe. Although we're getting a little more educated about prescription drug abuse and its effects, even that isn't enough. Over the counter cough medicine can be just as dangerous although there are fewer studies, practically no laws, and in general neither children nor parents are aware of the risks. Children, teens and even adults feel like if they can buy it in a store, it's safer than using an illegal narcotic. They are horribly wrong.

According to a 2008 study (yes, the only thing I could find was that out of date), one in 10 teens has used OTC cough medicine to get high. And while we might assume, as the police officer who caught Ethan shoplifting at 16 did, that they are after the alcohol content in liquid medications, we would be wrong. We would also be wrong to believe, as that article did, that it is something they'll move past to illegal drugs as they get older and decide it is beneath them. If they become addicted, they don't move on. There is no need. It is still cheap, legal and deceptively safe.

The active ingredient in hundreds of cough suppressants, including the ones in my cabinet and probably yours, is dextromethorphan. It's a central nervous system depressant that, taken according to directions, is safe. Taken at levels from double to dozens of times the recommended dosage it can mimic everything from being drunk to PCPs. If your child is found in possession of it, no one is likely to think a lot of it. If you go to take cough medicine and discover it's all gone, you probably think you forgot and used it. If they wander through a pharmacy, or even the health care department of a grocery store, discount store, or dollar store, they can easily fill their pockets with boxes of the stuff, since it's not even behind the counter.

Even if you talk to your child regularly about the dangers of drugs, odds are good you won't think about cough medicine. After all, you give it to them sometimes. How do you make them understand that the hazards from abuse are just as real as with any street drug? Somehow you have to include medications from prescription pills to cough medicine in the conversation, because if you don't, someone else will.

That's the cautionary tale to parents.

But yesterday I just kept thinking about the kids. What do you say? How do you talk about a drug you hope they know nothing about in an effort to warn them without giving them ideas.

Be honest. Studies have shown that sex education classes that teach only abstinence don't work because they don't teach about what is really going on. I think that drug abuse classes sometimes have the same problem. Just say no is a wonderful idea, but it doesn't look at anything beyond the small gesture of denial.

It doesn't look at the peer pressure, or the desire to fit in. It doesn't look at the fact that sex feels good and it's easy to go further than you meant to if you don't know anything about the steps leading up to the big "it" you're not supposed to do. It doesn't look at the reality that sometimes you don't want to feel like a kid who doesn't fit in and a cough medicine that you and your buddies can grab off a shelf makes you suddenly cool and relaxed and all the crap you deal with every day doesn't matter quite so much.

As a parent, it's damn near impossible to convince a child that the pain of the ninth grade or the attention of a certain boy, is just such a little part of life that it really won't mean anything in a few years. It's hard for them to believe that the circles of life beyond high school will take them so far beyond both the friendships and rebuttals of their peers. It's hard for them to conceive of a time when it won't matter that they weren't popular, or that someone did or did not like them... a time when the people who are their world won't even be a small part of it.

I know because I tried so hard with Ethan. I didn't know the dangers of dextromethorphan. I didn't know the extent of his pain. But I did know the danger of peer pressure and how keenly he wanted to fit in, when what he really needed to do was carve his own path. I don't know how to tell anyone to fix that, but I know I have to tell you to try.

My son used with his two best friends, and to the best of my knowledge, all their girlfriends as well. One boy came across as trouble from the get-go, while the other was from an apparently stable, two-parent family, (just to show you that trying to pick their friends may not help). I don't know who the ring leader was and it could have been Ethan for all I know. In any case, they used together and supported one another in the path they chose. I don't know about the "trouble" child, but I know from talking with the other young man that he was addicted just like Ethan. I know he's clean now, but that getting clean cost him a lifelong friendship and left him with a load of guilt; that he's still troubled by a drug he left behind and that he'll never be the same person that he was before he used it.

I know that despite my efforts to talk to my son, I let things slide because I accepted that he'd become more secretive, less willing to share, moodier, as he became a teen and matured, and because other than the drug use, he shared so much of his life that I think now he was probably often covering what he wasn't telling me by oversharing in other areas. That quite possibly from the first use some part of his brain knew that was something to hide. I knew about alcohol, pot and sex, and sometimes about shoplifting, and we dealt with those things. But I didn't know about cough medicine -- something seemingly so innocent -- partly because I wasn't educated to the problem. I know I didn't force him to be part of family meals and outings sometimes because his moodiness and sulking would ruin a whole day, and I wish now that I'd drug him along because maybe that was what he really wanted and at least now that wouldn't be something for me to feel guilty about.

So I'm urging you to educate yourself about things you don't really want to know about, not just the easy stuff. Talk to your children, whatever their age, in an age appropriate way, about all the hazards and the joys life holds for them. Help them understand that sometimes there are trade offs, that not doing the thing that seems good at the time will make something better a part of their future. Make it easy for them to talk to you without judging the little things, so maybe they'll be honest about the big things. Know about things that can hurt them so you can warn them and watch for danger. If something seems wrong, take them to a doctor or a counselor and the sooner the better. Track down the problem if you can, even if it makes them mad and you feel like you're beating your head against a wall. Make them be a part of your life so you can be part of theirs.

Know that all of that may not be enough, but that as important as it is to save your child, if you cannot do it, it may be just as important to know that you did everything you could.

And whatever happens, love them. Make them know you love them even when you say no, even when you have to let them suffer the consequences of their choices, even if they hang up on you half the time or wind up being lost in some place that you can't reach or save them.

Tell them you love them without reservation, even when they are an ass and when no one else does. Make them hear you above the noise of life and peers and pressures. Because right now, that's all I have to cling to.

A memory of a hug and knowing that whatever demons rode him, Ethan knew he was loved.

Spare the Rod and Spoil the Child?

I don't believe in spanking any more as a general rule, although sometimes I have to fight my inner bully to remember that.

Although it's been a gradual shift for me, a barrage of Facebook images in the last few days made me want to speak out. Just this morning there were two on my news feed that praised the value of spanking at home and in school.

Sorry, I can't agree any more.

I was spanked growing up and no, I don't believe I suffered any deep psychological or physical scarring as a result. In fact, I don't actually remember any spanking, although I do remember waiting on one that was to be delivered after company left. My brother and I had gotten into a knock down, drag out and I wound up bitten. We were both awaiting punishment, but I don't remember the delivery.

When I was raising my children, they were also spanked. In general, I don't remember those spankings either. I do remember slapping my teenage son in the face when he stood and cursed me, and I expect the feelings that triggered that were behind most of the spankings as well. I felt frustrated and that nothing was getting through. I don't think smacking him helped and I really don't think most of the spankings helped either, other than to provide a vent for my frustration.

So despite the challenges of dealing with three preschoolers, I make it my goal not to spank. I'm not 100 percent successful yet, but when I do administer a swat, I feel like I've failed.

It wasn't long ago that I was part of the spanking club. A tantrum, failure to obey timeout rules, doing what I had expressly told them not to do, they could count on a spanking. Sometimes afterward I would wonder if the swat had been too hard and if I wasn't really just a bully disguised as a grandmother. After all, I was using my size and strength to make them do what I wanted, even if they didn't agree or understand.

Then I saw someone else doing the same thing at a restaurant. A tantrum from the child was provoking a tantrum from the father, and his was really more disturbing than the child's. Threats of a "busted ass," weren't quieting the little one down and a swat at the table only changed his rambunctious behavior into loud tears. It wasn't enough to be considered abuse, but it was still ugly.

While it was not something I had ever done, in public any way, it was like watching my own behavior in the mirror, and I vowed to change.

Prayerfully I began to address issues that were mine, not those of little girls who don't know a better way to manage their emotions and behavior. More and more, I'm able to catch myself before screaming back, before swatting a bottom -- before doing things I regret just minutes after doing them.

At 4, E1 is the biggest challenge. Her emotional scale is so easily tipped and on any given day I'm likely to find myself facing rage, tears, an out and out tantrum, or an assault on one of her sisters, or maybe all of the above. Sitting down to a lunch she insists she doesn't want to eat is a good example. What begins as "I don't want this" dissolves into shrieks and tears. More recently, instead of smacking her tiny bottom, which truthfully fixed nothing, I took her away from the table and we took time to breathe and calm down. We negotiated how much she had to eat and went back to the table. She ate without a further blowup.

I know, that sounds so ideal, but it has happened. She actually finished the food she insisted she didn't want to eat, because once she started eating, it was something she liked. Yesterday when she said she didn't want the can of pasta I opened for lunch, there was not even a blowup. I just advised her to eat a few bites and pretty soon the plate was clean.

Next time, we may be facing a replay of the removal from the table, but I think it won't be a constantly repeated exercise. I think by finding another way to deal with what is an emotional situation for her, we both learn. The emphasis is on both of us learning.

When I was a young mother, I was busy with so many things and managing so much other stress, that an uncooperative child was often the thing that pushed me over the top. Whether it was failing to pick up toys when asked to do so, or something really serious like dashing into a parking lot, a spanking was more about my inability to consider another option than it was about what they had done and their failure to mind. I cannot fault other people who face the same difficult situations and react the same way.

The additional level of maturity brought by age and experience and the degree of separation I have from my grandchildren's everyday needs is one of the reasons I'm able to negotiate my own emotional terrain a little more successfully. I don't have to worry about how I'm paying for the diapers on the baby's butt or the roof over their heads, all I have to focus on is their needs 8 hours a day. Surely I can be the mature one that long.

I think most grandparents likely go through that shift in their thinking, which may be one of the reasons people accuse their parents of loving their grandchildren more than their actual children. It's not that I let them get by with more, but that I manage how I react differently.

No, I'm not successful 100 percent of the time. Sometimes I react before taking that extra minute I need to be in control. Sometimes I catch myself just in time and turn what could have been a spanking into a "sit down and talk about what you did wrong." Sometimes I throw away the crayons, despite the fact they're screaming that they really will pick them up and not dump them out again, because I know even with their best intentions, tossing them is the only way I won't pick them up again. And sometimes their behavior is so over the top that a swat is the only way I've found to deal with it -- although I hope that will change over time as well.

So no, I don't want to be in the pro-spanking corner any more. I don't think the decline in our society is because we don't spank, it's because we don't take the time to do anything else either. We're working two or three jobs to make ends meet and buy our kids all the neat things they think they have to have when what they really need is more of us, more time to learn who they are instead of trying to be who their friends think they are, more conversation at the dinner table instead of texting or gaming, and more real learning instead of mindless homework just to pass a test.

It's easy to pass judgement and say if parents would just spank their kids like we were spanked, it would be better. But by and large, spanking was just a small part of the parenting process in which we were raised. Families and society have changed in radical ways and today's parents are still struggling to find the right balance without the easy guidelines that we had from our parents.

Instead of condemning parents who make the difficult choice not to spank, we need to be supportive and encourage them to find other ways to discipline and the time to make sure their children learn the lessons we seem to think were beat into us. We don't need to say a good spanking would fix that, because really, it won't.

Becoming a person who helps them understand life, like our parents and grandparents did in thousands of ways that are less memorable than the symbolic spanking will help change our children. Being yet another bully who forces them to do what we say through threats and violence isn't the answer.

Mothering in the eVillage Age

It takes a village to raise a child, or so the saying goes.

Once upon a time not so many generations ago, that village was made up of extended family and close friends, a circle of people with whom we interacted on a regular basis from the country store owner where we shopped to the preacher of our church. It was grandma, and maybe great-grandma, aunts, cousins, and a score of relatives living in close proximity who could give a mom advice or assistance with practically any problem she encountered. It was a sizable group of people looking out for the well-being of every child in the community, ready to help set them on the right path or get their parents to do it if necessary.

But now families are scattered and those resources aren't as available or, in many cases, as trusted as they once were.

Now we have a different sort of village -- an electronic or virtual village made up of the people we can reach out to through social networks, blogs and Pinterest.

Today's mothers (and grandmothers as well) can be bombarded with more information than a family reunion of thick-skinned relatives would ever dish out. It's a mixed blessing that can leave us all confused, bewildered, and still faced with making our own decisions, but at least lets us know that we're not alone.

Having raised my own two children with that traditional mix of relatives nearby, at least for the early years and not too far away in later times, and now with three little ones in this new era of child raising, I know there are big differences.

While nothing beats a good shoulder to cry on sometimes, it's often easier to be truthful about our problems with people we don't really know. Many Facebook pages and bloggers will take on a reader's questions, concerns and problems and give them a place for venting, which can often be all that is really wanted. Need to complain about how the daddy isn't much help, or is the only one in the house getting a good night's sleep, there's a safe place to turn without having the family ready to tar and feather him (or you). Tired of dealing with a little one's tantrums and sure it's your fault, you can look for a host of suggestions without ever feeling like your friends/family are going to blame you.

No matter what kind of issue you face in parenting, odds are really good there is a forum somewhere on Facebook that will let you gather more information, or a blog that will give you some support and let you know you're not the lonely, hopeless parent you may think you are.

At the same time, those wonderful, unreal people that you friend on Facebook or follow on Pinterest or in blogs can send your mood spiraling with their posts about elaborate meals their perfect children eat, the incredible way they solved a major dilemma in their child's life, or the wonderful crafts they're making for Christmas gifts. They don't stand in line to pass judgement on your child-rearing abilities, they let you do it yourself when you inevitably cannot create the perfect hot dog mummy, or paper tube Christmas tree, or when your child absolutely refuses to eat the guaranteed child-friendly recipe you worked so hard to prepare, or when they decorate so perfectly, or their child lands the leading role in the Christmas play.... the list goes on and on. (Keep in mind that out there in cyberspace a person can be anything and do anything, and Photoshop is a wonderful tool.)

Still, when we need a real, honest to goodness person to talk to, to look after a child so we can take a sibling to the doctor, or see the dentist, or on that rare occasion when we feel that we really should so something without a child, those virtual people with whom we've shared so much are absolutely no good.

Those are the times when those original villages of flesh and blood people -- family and friends with all their faults and fault-finding -- are the only ones who will do.

If we can find the balance between support and self condemnation, virtual and real, having friends in New Zealand and knowing the folks next door, it's an exciting time to raise a child. There's so much opportunity to do more than the mothers and grandmothers who have gone before could do to broaden a child's horizons and provide them with educational opportunities. We can challenge ourselves and our children in ways that no generation has previously been able to do.

What me may find most challenging, however, is accepting our own limitations and knowing that we won't be able to do it all because no one really does.

And what is most important is still raising happy, healthy children who know they are loved, even if they don't speak a second language or read before they are 5, despite Rosetta Stone or ABC Mouse, and even if we still can't decorate our homes like Southern Living or cook like a gourmet chef, despite all those posts we pinned on Pinterest.

Because what it really comes down to isn't the village, although that village can play an important part, it's what we're able to give our children at home. And the most important thing we can give them is ourselves and our time, and that may mean putting the virtual village away and going it on our own sometimes.

Small Children and Dogs Really Aren't That Different

Most people probably don't look at it like I do, but then most people don't spend their days steeped in the similarities. When it comes right down to it, small children and dogs are a lot alike and, in a lot of ways, managing them requires the same skill set.

Before you get your panties in a bunch, no, that doesn't mean that everything that works for the two-legged creature works for the four-legged or vice versus, although both do respond to the bribery of a treat. And no, it doesn't mean I crate the grandchildren for time out. They do that themselves for fun.

Whatever the similarities early on, children, regardless of how they are raised, will outgrow living by instinct. Dogs left to their own devices will still be dogs.

If you look into the science, you'll find there are studies that support a lot of my conclusions. Babies and small children operate at an instinctive level, just like dogs, as their brain continues to develop. Both are chiefly concerned about their own needs, they react to stimulus at a level that doesn't have society's filters on it, they need house training (one of the toughest parts of dealing with either one), and no matter how well they listen at home, if you take them anywhere you may want a leash.

Seriously, whether you have children or dogs, you have to practice patience, you have to provide food and shelter, you have to protect them from the hazards of a world they don't completely understand (think dogs and streets), and above all you have to be the adult -- the part of the equation that keeps things balanced and doesn't forget that in most instances, no matter what you are dealing with, you are the biggest, scariest thing in the room.

Sometimes reminding myself of that helps me deal with both parts of my day.

For example, it is a waste of time and energy to ask either group why they did what they just did that has me ready to scream. Neither the Es nor the canines have any words to explain themselves, whether it is drawing on the walls (girls) or taking a whiz indoors when they've just been outside (dogs, in case you wonder). On those occasions, I have to work hard to remind myself I'm the only reasoning adult. I just need to breathe, tell them that was a bad choice in whatever language is appropriate for the audience, clean it up and move on. Really, 10 minutes later I'm likely to be the only one who remembers what happened.

Both will let you know when things aren't going well. With a dog it may be raised hackles, a low growl, cowering, snapping, or a determination to dominate another dog. When that happens, it's important for me to put a stop to it because it will only escalate. A bullied dog will fight back and someone could get hurt if I don't bring the aggressor under control. When a dog is getting out of control or needs a reminder of who is boss, like a child he may need a time out -- into the crate with you! For Pedro, the rescue pit bull I'm working with now whose social skills are pretty much non existent anyway, that means come to me and sit and let me throw my arm across your back. Dogs don't really like that position because it means you are the boss, which is why it works so well to ratchet him down a level. Then we play a game of fetch, which he loves, and move on.

For the girls, there can be less warning (no growls or hackles) before someone snaps and pushes someone else away from a toy. Sorting out who did what is harder, but the results are less likely to end in a visit to a medical professional, too. Usually the blame can be attached to the oldest sibling because, face it, she just has more to work with. And sometimes E1 is a lot like Pedro in that she has so much energy and needs something constructive to do and she begins to lose it. I know yelling at her would be as effective as shrieking at Pedro. Instead we've developed a breathe and count exercise -- take a deep breath, count to 10, take another deep breath -- that helps her reset. We stop whatever is sending her into overdrive and do the exercise together (honestly, sometimes it helps me, too). By the end she has usually regained control of herself and is ready to go on with something more positive.

And yes, sometimes spending time with one influences how I spend time with the other. But the lessons are more for me than they are for either the children or the dogs. How I manage my own behavior and emotions is the biggest factor in how either group learns and grows.

Whether working with children or dogs, seeing them cast aside a bad behavior for one you've helped them learn can be the sweetest victory. Hearing E1 stop and say she needed to count made me smile as I knew she was beginning to use that tool when she felt herself in danger of a bad outburst. Watching Pedro overcome his dog aggression even enough to walk confidently with a growing number of dogs makes me want to reward him with a whole bag of treats.

In both instances, making better choices myself leads to a better outcome for them and that's another area where dogs and children are alike. Whether we recognize the similarities or not, we are the ones in charge and, until our children enter the next phase of development somewhere around preschool, the ones most responsible for the outcome.

So take a deep breath and count to 10. Whatever you're dealing with, it's up to you to do it right.

In Praise of Grandpas -- Mine and My Better Half

When it comes to grandparents, it seems it's often grandma that gets to wear the halo. The big G. It's grandma's house, grandma's cooking, grandma's prayers, grandma's love.

We often undervalue the role of grandpa in this whole wonderful equation. He gets a back seat, whether he deserves it or not.

And I'll admit at my house, Papi does have the easy role. I think when he's dealing with three little people, the word "no" drops from his vocabulary. They have him so wrapped around their little fingers that I swear he should be able to tie himself in a knot. The only time he ever scolds one is if they are mean to one of the others. His presence around the house ratchets up the level of excitement a couple of degrees and makes a day hard to manage. He also tends to flee when meltdowns get too severe.

But I honestly cannot blame him. He didn't have the trial by fire that I've already survived. After making it to nearly 40 without getting married, he took on me and two nearly grown teenagers and never tried to step into shoes he was unprepared to fill. Until E1 rolled onto the scene four years ago, he'd never had to spend any time in a caretaker role of a small child. It was a tough adjustment and there are still times when he has to flee to his building for a breather.

At the same time, two little girls (baby hasn't managed to be a big part of the equation yet) have unveiled a streak of patience in him that I think would be hard to match. And in return, they adore him.

Looking at some photos I snapped yesterday while he was working on my new fence threw that into highlight for me.

The girls were delighted with his use of an auger to dig fence post holes, but when he started putting up posts, it went to a new level. Instead of sending them away, he let them "help."

They watched in amazement as he mixed and poured concrete (he is known for overkill, but these were corner posts). Then they helped scraped the last of the mix into the holes and tamp down the concrete around the posts. Always guided by his hands and never a raised voice.

Although I never worked alongside either of my grandpa's, I realize they must have had the same capacity and, in a different society a few decades back, played a key role in shaping the lives of my brother and first cousin. My brother adored my Pa Beamer and once he was old enough spent much of his summers at my paternal grandparents' home, helping with cattle and riding horses. Although I enjoyed some of the horseback trips, I was never quite included in the magic between them. My brother now lives on Pa's farm, working the cattle and the land and supporting his farming with a "real" job just as my grandpa did. My Pa Booker played the same role in my cousin's life and, like my brother, he now farms the land he worked with Pa.

And while I didn't work with Pa Booker, he set another example for me. Once I was grown, he was always the one who showed up to do things that needed doing. Whether it was me alone with two kids, or me with a husband who wasn't stepping up to do what he should be doing. I know he did the same with my cousins. There was wood carried in, ice scraped from windshields, yards mowed (that was his favorite) and host of other things that got done because of Pa.

My translation on this is that grandparents, freed from the 24-hour pressure of raising and meeting the needs of a child, have an all-important role. They are the ears that listen, the hands that help out, the patience children need when parents are tired, working, or just don't have enough hours in the day. They are a source of unconditional love and always open arms. They are an alternative adult that exposes children to different activities and interests that may influence the course of the child's life in a lot of ways.

When children don't have that (and in today's society it is hard to deliver when miles and divorces spread families thin), I think they simply have a harder time finding themselves and becoming all they should be. Some still manage, but we can look around and see that many struggle.

People once told me that as a grandparent I would love more than I did as a parent, but I also know that isn't true. It's simply that maturity and mortality make me appreciate more, and children need that. I know I did. And I'm glad the girls in my life are getting a good dose of it as well.

So when you're praising grandma's cookies, keep in mind grandpa's laugh, because both can be equally important in making sure a child gets all the love and attention he or she needs. And it's sometimes grandpa's laugh that gives grandma the patience to get the cookies baked.

And when fence building comes to a halt because E1 has spotted a granddaddy longlegs, "And they're the neatest spiders ever," well, you know that patience is there by the barrel full.