Oh, welcome brave new world! Where women think for themselves and children no longer are seen and not heard!
Baby boomers (along with previous generations) longingly reminisce the good old days where their "lessers" sat in mute silence and did what they were told without question. Those days are done. Gone. Dead! To wish otherwise is a death sentence to the uprising generation.
It was yesterday afternoon my family happily visited my in-laws. Don't touch! Don't fight. Talk in a low voice. Don't be obnoxious. Chase, chase, chase. Well, while visiting the grandparents is a nice once-in-a-while event for us, it can be stressful. Especially when you have kids like mine.
I am raising my kids to be thinkers. To fight for their beliefs. To be unafraid to speak their minds. To love and obey their Heavenly Father. To know and love delayed gratification. To succeed in life. To act honorably and honestly. Every one of them has a headstrong leader within wanting to shine! And this creates many a conflict in the Mueller household. While this happens, I teach them the importance of teamwork and charity.
So, back to the death sentence of the uprising generation. There's no doubt. Look around you. Things are fast paced. In every way. Sex. Communication. Drugs. Jobs. Home life. Everything. If we raised our kids to run and hide when company arrives, what kind of adults will they become?
Our nice evening led to an explosive argument between the generations at the grandparents. You see, we have a soon-to-be 2 year old active little boy, and I stress ACTIVE. Grandparents had a beautiful china Nativity Scene on a table in the middle of their living room. I had politely asked if we could please remove this set so that Babykins would not hurt it. Grandma hesitated. She consented. I felt her hesitance. Boy, did I. So, I hired myself some teenagers to help me take it to another room. Grandpa saw us and said in so many words, "What are you doing? No. You put it back and just teach your little boy to not touch."
Taken aback, I said to my kids as I grabbed up my portion for its return, "Okay, kids, you heard him, let's put it back because we're going to do our super best to keep Babykins to keep from touching it."
Grandma heard that. And that's when it all exploded. Grandpa says that in his days, children did NOT touch. They obeyed. He pointed fault in the way we're raising our children. Doesn't he know the pressures they're facing? I am not going to go down quietly into the night and let my kids flail and fail and sink and fall. They will know who they are. They will NOT sit to be looked at, to be shut away, to bow their heads and say meekly, "yes, sir" because those days of quiet subservience is over.
I remember as a child, being afraid of adults. It wasn't until high school that I realized that teachers were human. Silly as that sounds, it was true. My dad taught me through example to be scared of adults. To shut up when he entered. To hide when he was angry.
I've had to reinvent my parenting skills because the example I have is not a happy or good one. While I had a broken childhood, I do not raise my children lightly. I think about their emotional well-being, their happiness and comfort. Their self-confidence, their desires, their needs. Everything comes with a price and that is the honor system. To honor is to live wisely.They are the world to me. I love them and want to stay a part of their lives as they search out for their own for when the time comes. What parent wants their children to never come back? What parent wants to badger their children with tradition that hurt them as children themselves to begin with?
I call this the the Generational Miscommunication Gap Crisis.
There is a fine line to raising children and I can say with a clear conscious that I am not raising hoodlums.