A Parenting Philosophy: Do I Need One? (Part 1)

A Disconnect between the science and art of parenting

Part 1

I have read so much literature on parenting, from self-help parenting guide books to keeping up with cutting-edge research in scientific journal articles. My focus of study while earning my doctorate in psychology was parenting. I am also a licensed clinical psychologist, specializing in child, adolescent and family psychology. What has always left me awe-struck are first, the disconnect between the science of parenting and the art of parenting and second, the lack of discussion of the need for a parent to have a guiding philosophy of parenting.

There are so many different philosophies of parenting. The definition of good parenting is defined by so many factors. The construct of parenting, being a subjective art, is influenced by time, culture, socioeconomic status, personal history and biases. Some subscribe to the “Leave them alone and they’ll just grow up. It’s inevitable.” Others subscribe to the “Give them the rules. Show them the boundaries. Make sure they live by them. That’s your job.” While others subscribe to the philosophy of “Just get out of their way. Clear their path and get others out of their way and let them be who they are going to be and make them feel right for being exactly that.”

When you ask a parent, in therapy, as they struggle with the right parenting move, “Well, what’s your parenting philosophy?”

Most parents look at you like you are crazy, thinking, “Does she get this? I am not a commander in this war, thinking about overarching strategies, I am a soldier in the trenches. I am making moment to moment battle decisions based on what’s right in front of me, the terrain I see, the armor and weapons I have.” When I was a clinical PhD student, more than a decade away from having my own children, I didn’t get it. I sat there talking strategies as they sat there thinking, “See, I knew this would never work. Nobody understands what this is like.” Now, I’m a mother and I apologize to all the mothers that came to me about parenting advice before I understood what it was like to have a child wailing because they do not want you to go to school that day or a child that looks at you defiantly, unmoving, when you issue a command. But now I am a mom and I do get it. Interestingly, and perhaps a little in my defense, I don’t think my question about a parenting philosophy was wrong; unfeeling, yes, lacking empathy, yes, but not wrong.

I still think it’s worth it to sit back and identify an overall parenting strategy. I understand that most of parenting is reactive (sometimes defensive) decisions that you don’t wake up planning to make that day. Many decisions are made when your mind has abandoned you because it’s still reeling and trying to wrap your head around you being the mother in the grocery store with your child refusing to let go of the six bags of candy. You are here, in this moment, having to make this decision but how you wonder when just yesterday you were reveling in being an independent adult, the boss of you and now it seems you have a new boss whose wailing at you, clutching bags of candy as everyone stares. Another voice, this one inside your head, wails “You’re up. This is the big parenting moment. The one that decides if your child will be a successful CEO or wind up on the couch jobless, surrounded by candy bags.” Still other parenting decisions come in disguised. In the moment, you are completely unaware that you are making a parenting decision. These moments present as nothing more than unimportant daily exchanges. Only later, often with regret, do you realize with shock the messages you sent, the parenting largeness of the moment.

There are many parenting decisions that I make that I recognize as parenting decisions. They are the big ones, announced by the Amber alert blaring in my head, “This is it. This is it. This is the big one. You’re up. Don’t mess it up.” For example, “Mom, this teacher told me today that I didn’t deserve to be in Honor classes because I was sitting on the floor in the hallway talking to my friend while we were waiting for the classroom to open.” Or “I got in trouble today for not paying attention in class and the teacher asked me to repeat what she just said and I couldn’t because I was taking notes about the last thing she said” or “The kids on the playground don’t want to play with me because they get mad when I tell them they are cheating and I started crying.” Those are the bigger moments, the moments where you can see clearly you are being called on to be a parent. Then, there are the little moments when I only realize in retrospect, I was parenting. When I am with my teenage daughter and I say, “It’s so hard getting older and looking in the mirror and seeing everything fade.” In my mind, I am just being open and honest about my experience. Not hiding your experience, not holding things in, that’s right, right? Later, at night, reflecting on my parenting for the day, I wonder, did I just send her the message that getting older is fading, that it is something to be sad about because it is a losing of sorts. I question if she will take that with her and then as she sees the beauty of youth slip away, remember my words, my programming that getting older is the losing of something enviable, youth. This is a moment that went unregistered but in retrospect, I realize it may have been a big parenting moment.

Every night before I close my eyes and often in the moments after I interact with my kids, I take stock of that interaction or the interactions of the day and its implications and potential ramifications. I am the first to admit that this work is tiring but its work that I feel is important. I am not counting up victories and losses, placing tally marks in two columns, but instead I am looking over my actions and words, looking to see if they lined up or have strayed from my overall parenting philosophy (even if it’s only the philosophy of this moment).

My parenting actions look pretty fluid and would often convince an outsider that there is no method to my madness....

Part 2 of A Parenting Philosophy