It has come up several times in the last few days that we, as a family are "unconventional."
One of Tim's friends from the ward sat down with him and asked, "How do you handle us nine-to-fivers?" It was a question I'd never considered before. How do I handle them? I spend all my time either hiding from them or trying to be more like them, on the obviously mistaken assumptions that, 1) their way is ideal and 2) they won't notice we're different.
Obviously they notice.
The thing that surprised me was that Tim's friend went on to express how discontent he is in the 9-to-5 world.
It hadn't occurred to me until that moment that, perhaps, we were looking at them in jealousy (security...health insurance...steady income...social acceptance) and they were looking at us with jealousy (adventure...freedom from 'keeping up with the joneses'...liking what you do for a living...pursuing/living your dreams...being able to actually DO all those bizarre things people dream of...a colorful life instead of boredom).
Tim explained that we didn't chose to be unconventional--we can't help it (he didn't mention that we've fought against it unsuccessfully for years), and that the 'free' life isn't so free--he works 16 hour days every day and we still don't always know where our next meal is coming from or how we're going to dress our children when they grow or get a car that will actually fit us all comfortably. He also didn't mention how threatening/lonely it can be to be unconventional, and how often we are judged, or how Tim's nieces and nephews haven't been able to have a normal relationship with him since they saw him on stage, or how unconventional also means we go to church on 4 hours of sleep, can't do primary parties, have kids wandering the halls at church, don't invite people over because the house is a disaster and we still haven't unpacked after being in Nevada for a year (we don't even own living room furniture still!), or go into details about how many awful illnesses we've picked up traveling, or how it feels to be more comfortable with the waiters and the sound guys and the band (the other 'back door people') in any formal gathering than we ever are with the other guests (who are, so often, the audience for us).
One of the comments we always get, though, is that people are impressed with how smart and creative our children are.
And how can they do that, too, for their kids?
The answer is...be more unconventional. Doing what everyone else does to raise kids produces kids that are a great deal like all the other kids.
I was actually appalled the other Sunday when one of the nursery leaders sat down with a kid and said, "You're gonna have to learn to just go along and do what everyone else is doing." That may be standard 'make daycare easy on everyone' childrearing, but I totally disagree with teaching that as doctrine, unless you intend to raise middle managers.
Here is how we 'make' our kids creative and bright:
We provide resources and get out of the way.
We let them fill their time, instead of us mandating it.
We assume that their projects are just as important as ours, and let them get on with it, even if it involves mud or building a train set in the living room and leaving it for a couple of days, or using the video tapes as building blocks. Even if it means skipping part of dinner so you can get that last sentence typed on your story. Even if it means listening to hours of 'what HP should my RPG character have at the start of the game' or 'how big should this map be' or 'do you think we could sew this tonight?'
We take on the role of coaches or guides rather than teachers, bosses, or traditional parents. Yes there is a great deal of teaching that goes on in our home, but not the way school teachers do it (even in our homeschooling).
We let the children discover and develop their own talents--not ours, and not ones we predetermined they ought to have--and let them control the way this happens (instead of imposing lessons on them, we let them know what's available and watch for the spark in their eye that says, 'Now THAT sounds cool.')
We respect our children as though they were adults--adults who outrank us in every way. This doesn't mean we don't parent them (teaching, feeding, nurturing, disciplining, comforting guiding, etc). It just means we do it with utmost respect for who we're dealing with. These kids aren't OUR property--they are God's princes and princesses, and we don't have the right to destroy them.
We assume the house is not mine, but ours--they live here, too. They get access to the resources, too.
We fill our home with supplies for creativity and let the kids use them even if it's messy. I save bits of ribbon and paper towel tubes, and bits of colored paper, crayons, books, wood, empty cans, etc. And let them use it. I taught the kids to make mud on purpose.
We think in public, and discuss things in public, and let the kids see us learning new things, solving problems, pursuing creative activities, thinking, questioning, and doing what we hope they will do.
We not only tolerate dialogue, we encourage it. We expect our children to say, "I don't want to" and "why not" and "that doesn't make sense" and we never allow ourselves to use the answer "because I said so." We reason, discuss, negotiate with them from the time they are able to communicate (like, age 2 seconds old....). We laugh with them, talk to them, and never assume they have to agree with us. Everything is open for discussion, debate, negotiation, and possibly change. Just 'cause I'm older doesn't mean I'm always right, you know.
We 'tune in' to the kids as much as we can. We notice if they are unhappy or overjoyed, and try to get them to communicate with us about those things (so they learn to analyze not just 'i hate that' but why they hate it and what they personally can do to change things).
Mostly, we try to give them the tools to succeed and get out of the way.
