Maternity 33

week 11: tibetan art of parenting

It’s not unusual to hear gossip that blames one child’s phobias or extreme behavior on his or her parents. This is an unfortunate offshoot of the popularization of Freud’s theories of the subconscious and childhood traumas. As parodied in Woody Allen’s humor, we’ve all heard adults link their emotional setbacks to the ways they were raised. One of my favorite Woody Allen quotes is: “when I was kidnapped, my parents jumped to action. They rented out my room”.

The Tibetan parenting philosophy  is diametrically opposed to the idea that your phobias are linked to poor parenting. Based on belief in reincarnation, Tibetans assume that children chose their parents. This choice is based on the old soul’s karma - an accumulation of good or bad points from behavior in previous lives.  Consequently, parents can’t really alter their children’s fate.

Let’s apply this way of thinking to my own up-bringing. My mother fully embraced motherhood and seemed to coast through raising three children while having lots of fun. Being a parent brought out the laughter and mischief in her and she spent a lot of time and energy on her children. My father didn’t let the logistics of child rearing come in the way of his professional ambition and dedication. People often ask me if I suffered from not seeing him daily, as he seldom came home before we went to sleep. Honestly, I did not mind: he had the wherewithal to know that his job was too stressful to come home with enough calm to bathe us, feed us and read to us at night. As a result, we did not resent him, or fight with him un-necessarily. He could then focus his parenting energy on holidays and the occasional week-end. He taught us how to ski, play tennis, bridge, solve math problems and eat a Sunday meal in the elegant French way.

Their parenting suited me perfectly. My father was there to inspire and push me. This corresponds to my serious and ambitious self. My mom was there to make me feel safe and cozy. This corresponds to my needy self: still today, I pine for her presence when I’m ill or moody. 

Now that I am a parent I can’t help but wonder who would chose me as their mother? I’m not sure I have the answer, but I do think that I have to be true to my parenting instincts, rather than attempt to fit some pre-defined mother role. Incidentally, this is why I use the word “parent” rather than “mother” when I describe my new state. I find that it gives me more freedom to chose my own style. Also, I spend considerable time thinking about my root parenting principles, two of which are independence and harmony.

Independence: my role is to teach my children to become independent. As soon as they are ready to do something on their own I encourage it.  And I see how happy this makes them. When our son was 5 months old, he figured out how to hold his own bottle and beamed at the ability to control his own food source. Now that he can talk, his favorite expression is “all by myself”. I’m probably a bit extreme in the willingness to let kids try things on their own. This past week, I taught our son to climb rocks. My husband was a little worried, but when he saw the results he helped our son practice his climbing.

Harmony: children exist within a family and should strengthen the overall family balance. This means their individual needs have to be consistent with ours, just as we adjust our desires to encompass our children. Concretely, this means that my husband and I are free to pursue our careers and interests, as they make us happier; that our children learn to play together and care for each other rather than give in to their territorial instincts; that the grandparents get to see our kids as much as they want. It also means that when it’s bed or nap time, and our son asks for yet another story, I’ll tell him that it’s my turn to eat, or relax and that he has to learn to accept and respect this.

Fun: when I play with my children, I follow my instincts. If I feel competitive, I’ll chase after the ball and grab it before my son gets it! If I feel like pushing my heart rate, I’ll run really fast in circles around him. If I feel like concentrating, I’ll play a memory game with him. I never force myself to play a game I don’t like, and I stay clear of children’s museums which get on my nerves. I’ve noticed that other adults like these activities, and I’m happy to let them do these with our children. This may sound like selfish parenting (it sort of is!), but it enables me to be consistent and genuine.