Listen More Mindfully

I felt bad. I did. It's something I've worked on for years but still fall prey to. I waited for a pause in her dialogue to apologize. At least, I thought it was a pause.

"Beatrice, I'm really sorry," I said. Sincerely, too.

All three of them laughed -- both daughters, Beatrice and Bryce, and my wife, Amy.

"Dad, you did it again!" Beatrice exclaimed. "You interrupted me again while I was talking! You always do that!"

"Dad, she wasn't done talking," Bryce said. "And why do you always ask so many questions?"

And then I felt even worse. True, I ask both kids a lot of questions about their day and how they're feeling, but they also weren't wrong about me interrupting. Bea certainly wasn't wrong. Right before I apologized to her she expressed how much she didn't appreciate it when I interrupted her. I was proud of her for letting me know who she felt, and at the same time, momentarily devastated that I actually did that to her. 

My own perception is that I believe I wait until a natural pause occurs before adding my 2 cents worth in a conversation, or ask my kids questions. I'm a humble expressive, but I do like to share my thoughts on whatever the topic at hand is, or again, ask my kids clarifying questions. It's not the first time I've been told this over the years and I have to admit I've been an equal-opportunity interrupter for whomever I'm in a room with. 

I wouldn't call them microaggressions, though, because I don't believe I'm intentionally slighting anyone, especially my own family. I've been in the room with enough literal microaggressors over the years to know the difference and have been a staunch advocate for those who experience it.

But when I do interrupt, am I really listening? Or am I unconsciously disregarding what someone is saying to me (or others in a room) just so I can express my thoughts as if mine have more value? God, I hope not, but I'm also afraid so, sometimes anyway. Maybe it's due to a lifetime of overcompensating for growing up feeling inadequate and that my own thoughts weren't worthy to express. Maybe. Still, it's not something I'm proud of, especially when I hear it from my own daughter. Again, I'm proud of Beatrice for her awareness and clarity. Bryce has the same sensibilities. 

Which I wish I had more of when I was their age (even though they are still very "expressive" teens with all that teens bring, but still). I have worked on listening more and interjecting less over the years. When I'm truly mindful of it, I clear my mind and simply listen to the person or persons talking to me or to others. I listen with purpose and only respond if and when appropriate and it only adds value. 

I'll continue to work on not interrupting, but I won't stop asking our kids questions about their lives. I am still Dad, for goodness sake, so I'll just have to listen more mindfully along the way. 

No Matter Their Truths

I simply asked her to turn off the tv so she could read.

"No," she said.

"Beatrice, turn the tv off, please," I said.

"No."

"Beatrice, turn if off."

"No."

"If I have to get up and turn it off myself, then there won't be any tv tonight."

Now, I usually get to the threatening of natural consequences much sooner than my wife Amy, and much gruffer than her, too. Yet, in this same moment, I was also on the phone with my best friend.

"Dad is cracking down," he said to me over the phone. "You're raising the sass."

"Yes, I know," I said. "Here I come, Beatrice."

"Beatrice," Amy said. "Please go upstairs to read."

"I turned it off," Beatrice said, right then turning off the tv.

"Okay, then read," Amy said.

"Beatrice, you're so sassy," I said.

"Don't call me that in front of people."

She finally read while I finished my phone call, but I could tell that she was upset about being called sassy. Later she'd tell her mom that she felt bad that she made me mad, and I'd apologize for calling her sassy.

Whatever the context, both girls have found their young voices and they push it more and more these days. Push it in the sense that they challenge us -- more me than us (my perception anyway) -- and talk back and say no.

No, no, no.

All the time. Well, a lot more of the time these days.

And we -- more Amy than me actually -- empower them both to speak up and speak their truth, to challenge and push back.

Then I pushed back. I felt disrespected when they talked to me that way, that they're empowered to talk to me (us) this way. So I got mad spoke my truth. Bryce got upset that mom and dad fighting, which we told her we were talking about it and not fighting, and Beatrice was still upset about being called "sassy" at that moment.

Maybe not the best defense, but I am fighting against millions of years of biological, cultural and religious evolution and systemic misogynistic white male privilege and patriarchy. No matter how "woke" I feel I am, I still struggle to differentiate between feeling disrespected by my own children and raising empowered children, children who are now girls and will be young women someday and have to stand up to the still frothing male privilege that won't think twice about disrespecting them, harassing them, assaulting them, or worse.

These are the growing pains our children go through, young women and men alike. But there is a difference between being blatantly rude, being a bully, being disrespectful and being a confident human being with a balanced sense of compassionate respect and justice. God knows how full the world is of rude today.

We want our girls to live their truth and speak their truth, while ensuring to research it, corroborate it, challenge it, validate it, and not at the expense of others, no matter their truths. To communicate truth calmly and respectfully while not being afraid to speak up when others' truths impact and infringe on respect. That's a tough balance to aspire to reach, and yet aspire to reach we will.

The Unapologetic Parents Who Integrate It All

There we were, sitting at dinner, talking away, while the girls watched shows on their iPods. One of us asked Beatrice a question, but she didn't respond. We asked again, and then she quietly and reluctantly answered with one clear disclaimer: "I'm watching my show."

Dinner with friends and family at restaurants has included childhood distractions for decades. I remember getting crayons and coloring pages when we'd go to Sambo's or Bob's Big Boy, whether supplied by the restaurant or by my parents or grandparents. Usually both.

So, with iPods active, I made the definitive statement: "Yes, we unapologetically bring our devices everywhere we go."

Then I added: "Amy and I grew up with the TV on all the time, and our brains didn't melt."

Which is not entirely true, for us or for our children. The Mama and I are big readers, always have been, and this is one of many activities we encourage with Beatrice and Bryce. In fact, every week they go to the library and bring back a big bagful of new books to read, which we do every night before bed.

There are those child development experts who agree all things in moderation and integrated into everyday family life that includes talking with your children, doing arts and crafts projects together, reading together, writing together, drawing together, engaging in make believe together, or build forts (and even buy one once in a while), or watching a show or playing a game together. In fact, Bryce and I designed a unicorn video game together recently and then imagined we were actually playing it.

And think of it from the kids point of view while out at dinner. Having to listen to adults blather about this and that as they eat painfully slow with no consideration of the fact that the kids are missing out on valuable play time and reading time with the Mama and the Daddy.

As I write this, the girls are watching Little Einsteins on Disney Junior learning about music and art. And then we'll watch some more, and then they'll play on the devices, and then we'll do some art projects together, and then we'll read some new books, and then...

We are the unapologetic parents who integrate it all into some semblance of family time, even when they want to draw daddy's foot when he's working.

Amen.