Gifting an Experience

If you follow my blog and podcast then you know my 8-yr-old son Aaron is not very interested in any gifts other than Robux, the virtual currency players use in Roblox to acquire all sorts of virtual stuff, like helmets or designer clothing - though I’m sure this feature is not unique to Roblox I’m still suffering sticker shock over a special hairdo and a weird armor-like suit Aaron “bought”, which can’t even be worn in the real world! Having said that, I don’t think most people would want to actually wear it outside their gaming.

But I digress. The bottom line is that Aaron is not interested in the rest of the toys and gifts kids his age normally want, at least not in the same measure - even his ever-favorite Lego had taken a hit, he hardly touched them these days. I’ve been finding myself searching for interesting science kits, outstanding board games or card games, and even almost got him a baby Yoda, though he doesn’t watch The Mandalorian nor has developed the Star Wars itch.

What kind of gift can you get a kid who really doesn’t seem to want anything?

“Why don’t you get him an experience? That’s what’s hot these days, so my son tells me,” my brother Mark suggested.

“An experience? He’s a little bit young for that, don’t you think?”

“Not that kind of experience, Jimmy. Geez! I mean, like a trip or a special playdate with friends.”

“An experience, huh.”

“Yeah, like those places where you go to paint and drink wine,” Mark paused for a second. “That one is only for adults.”

“Glad you clarified that for me.” 

I thought about what Mark said. Maybe he was unto something? I thought it was worth a try, so I looked for gift experiences online. A quick search took me to PureWow.com and their article on suggested experiences for kids (here’s the link: https://www.purewow.com/family/experience-gifts-for-kids) Their list covers a wide range of kits and memberships that I found cool and potentially fun. Knowing my kid though I figured learning how to make chocolate truffles or a virtual tour on Amazon.com might not cut it. Besides the Roblox coding course listed in the article - more hours in a digital environment? I don’t think so - I really was unsure of what or if anything would interest Aaron. 

I realized it was Aaron who needed to look through this list. I was lying in bed with my laptop open on this website when he ran in.

“Dad, can I have the iPhone?”

“You know you can’t.”

“Ok.”

“Come here. Let me show you something.”

Half-heartedly, he slumped himself next to me.

I explained to him what gifting an experience was and showed him the offerings. I did not tell him the gift was for him, though.

We spent about 45 minutes going through the website’s recommendations, discussing the merits of each. There were theme park adventures, and wood crafting kits. I was trying to measure his level of interest by how long his attention lingered over each entry. I got mostly “meh” and downright disinterest. So far the magic show had held his attention the longest.

“The magic show sounds kinda cool,” I said as casually as possible.

“Yeah”

“I mean, if someone gifted you a magic show it would be fun, right?”

“Meh. Maybe.”

“I could be your assistant…”

Aaron rolled his eyes and laughed.

I woke up a couple of hours later. I could say that this constant napping is an age thing but, alas, it’s a talent I share with my Dad, who could fall asleep anywhere at any time his entire life.

I found Aaron in the living room building a Lego structure, which he hadn’t done in a long time. I sat on the couch, just watching him.

He noticed me and ran over to show me what he had put together.

“Dad?”

“What?”

“Can we look at that list again?”

As we sat side by side looking at the webpage again I realized that searching for the perfect gift experience had become the experience itself.

Life can be so simple sometimes.

Lucky Dad

As a kid growing up in Iowa in the 1950s I remember believing how finding a four-leaf clover would bring one good luck. There were even songs about it - I don’t remember the lyrics. With St. Patrick’s Day here I found myself remembering the clover I hadn’t thought about in years.

I was six when I first learned about the good luck clover. I was instantly hooked. My friends and I would typically be on the lookout for these anytime we hit the open fields or empty lots, where we would gather to play ball. 

It soon became a little obsession of mine. For a while, I would walk to school staring down at the sidewalk (I was told those found growing between cracks brought the most luck) and examining all grassy lawns as well as all weed-infested planters along the way. My older brother eventually noticed my strange behavior and wanted to know what was I looking for.

“Loose change”, I lied.

“In Mrs. Jackson’s petunias?”

“You never know”. He shook his head with a “just another Jimmy scheme” look on his face.

Like I needed competition in finding a four-leaf clover! There was no way I was sharing my good fortune with anyone!

Weeks went by and not one of us had found one. By now I’d already tried all known methods to find one, including using peek-a-boo (quickly looking at planted areas, trying to catch one before they hid again - yes, apparently lucky clovers could do that) or blinking three times and spinning clockwise ten times before trying to find one. BTW, this last one should never be attempted on a full stomach.

When I look back I recall I spent weeks and weeks really deep in my “four-leaf-clover-or-bust” mission. In reality, I’m sure it was only two or three at the most but, boy, were they intense!

Then one day it happened. 

I had just put down my lunchbox by a mixed grassy/weedy patch near school when I noticed the tiny, bright green miracle plant staring back at me. I suddenly realized I wasn’t sure what to do next. Did I have to pull it? Was it enough to see it to be the winner? 

I suddenly became aware that there were other kids around so I just reached out, ripped the little thing without much ceremony, and stuffed it into my lunchbox. Good luck was finally mine!! 

My friends were impressed, and not a little jealous. It felt good to be the hotshot for the next couple of days.

That is until  I heard that the three-leaf clover was even luckier than the one with four leaves, and another boy had found one on St. Patrick’s Day.

Three-leaves? St. Patrick? Who’s that anyway? I had invested the better part of what seemed like a lifetime to get that lucky clover and it turned out it wasn’t that lucky anyway?

“When’s that?”

“March.”

“But it’s May! I have to wait a whole year!?” That hit me like a punch to the gut.

The disappointment must have been written across my face when I got home that day because, as luck would have it,  my Dad had just gotten back from a sales trip and was relaxing in the living room when I came in. Caught up in my own thoughts I had not noticed him and was startled when he called me over.

“Jimmy! Come over here.”

Mom was in the kitchen but had already fixed him a coffee - his routine after days on the road. He was quietly sipping it.

“Hey, Dad.”

“What’s on your mind?”

At six years old I still felt I could tell my dad anything.

“My lucky clover is not so lucky.” With dejection, I took the now very limp little plant from my pocket, where I kept it wrapped in a handkerchief, and told him what I’d learned earlier.

My Dad held the little clover in his hand, gently extending each of the leaves. That was one dead-looking plant, and I suddenly felt sad for it.

“Well, I’ll be. A lucky clover, you say?”

“Yeah, but not the luckiest.” 

“ I don’t know much about three or four-leaf clovers, son. But I know you make your own luck in life.”

He could see his pep talk wasn’t working. 

“What I’m trying to say is that, as I look at this four-leaf clover, I think how lucky you already are. You have a family.” Then he tapped each of the leaves lightly, calling out our names. “See? A leaf per each of us. Family. You already are the luckiest kid in the world.”

I could see this was going to go from sappy to sappier once my mother came in so I nodded, and quickly took my leave.

“Hey, don’t you want your clover?”

“You can keep it, dad.” And I ran into my bedroom. I probably don’t need to tell you about the mixture of conflicting emotions I was experiencing at that moment. I think I cried - I still wanted to have the luckiest clover. Yet something in me did listen because from that point on I stopped looking for lucky clovers, or any lucky charms, for good.

Thinking back about that day I recognize how right Dad had been right. We make our own luck in life, and I believe lucky clovers are there to remind us of this. 

My dad had been right about luck, and he had also been right about family. When I raise my three-leaf clover today on St. Patrick’s Day, it’s my three children I’ll be thinking of, a leaf for each of them, and count myself the luckiest dad in the world.

How to Stop Hating Being a Parent

Six tips for learning to deal with our negative parenting emotions

The expectations of what succesful parenting needs to be puts unnecessary pressure on an already difficult job. The six tips I share in this ebook will help you put your conflicted emotions and guilty feelings in perspective... and leave them behind for good!

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Let’s face it: parenting sometimes sucks—big time.

I’m not even talking about dried-out spaghetti snuck under a sofa cushion or the dog eating the Lego pieces because the kids didn’t put away their toys properly. Nor am I referring to lack of sleep because of endless glass-of-water runs or checking under the bed for monsters.

If you’re like me, you’ll probably entertain one or two fantasies about signing up to go on the one-way ticket to Mars or winning the lottery and disappearing to the most remote Pacific island. And if you’re like me, the fantasies last a few minutes before we bring ourselves back to reality, feeling guilty about our daydreams of escape.

Yeah, the problem is not the sticky everything nor the way the super positive Kindergarten teacher, a covert patronizer, dismisses your warnings about the Tasmanian devil you’re dropping into their hands. (Their problem now for the next few hours, they’ll find out soon enough, right?).

Yeah, yeah. I know. That super positive Kindergarten teacher is only doing her job.

So, nope. These frustrating things are only the hairs that’ll break the camel’s back but are seldom the source for the real inner-conflict parents often experience regarding their children. We parents get dragged into that well of regret and exasperation when we encounter unmet expectations about our parenting experience. Yup, you and I have a deep-down fear that we’re doing a shitty job with the whole mom/dad role and throw in the towel on the entire parenthood shebang, if only in our minds.

The crazy thing I’ve come to recognize is that these expectations are not necessarily the many society and law have imposed on parents, which we need, even if our great-grandparents are turning in their graves over the end of corporal punishment. Instead, these expectations are beliefs we’ve come to construct for ourselves based on what others tell us, on what we’ve experienced ourselves, from reading lame parenting guides and watching too many and conflicting advice programs on the Internet.

Authoritarian parents operate in the “it’s my way or the high way” principle.

For example, one source tells you that being an authoritarian will make your kid successful on all fronts, while another source advocates for gentle parenting. You read both books, absorb what makes sense to you, and somehow, you form a hybrid version of both styles. If you’re lucky and have a grip on kids and home life plus a 100% understanding of your own needs, you might come up with the perfect solution to parenting, and you know what? Heck, you might want to publish your own guide! (If this is you, you can stop reading now and send me an email, I want you on my podcast.)

If you’re like me, you’ve read both books (and maybe a dozen mommy blog articles). Unfortunately, you probably got confused by all the opinions and ended up leaning to what you recognized most from your own experience, with a dash of techniques you were able to grasp from books, guides, and videos. We don’t realize that each parenting guide, or article we read, or parenting video we watch is built around its own set of expectations. So you’re not only adding a method to your toolkit, but you’re also acquiring hopes and expectations for an outcome.

Mom. Dad. Some days you’re not going to be a happy parent. You’re just not.

Or perhaps you encounter moments as a parent that you resent your own children. You might even find yourself hating them, and then you feel horrible about these feelings because you love them so much. Well, despite what you might believe, this is very common and happens to most parents. It’s called ambivalence, and most psychotherapists address it in their practices. First explored and exposed by influential analyst and pediatrician Donald Winnicott, he openly invited his patients to express their true feeling about their children. This tactic often led them to confront their negative emotions about their kids and thus refrain from any aggressive impulses. His idea of the “good enough” parent is used today by psychoanalysts everywhere. (Interested in reading more about ambivalence? There is an excellent article by writer Edward Marriott, When a bough breaks.)

“Hostility can also be triggered when we are made to face things we’d rather not. And few roles in life do this with as much relentless consistency as parenting. ”

— Edward Marriott

I’ve come to see very clearly how my expectations about parenting have influenced, in a less-than-a positive way, my role as a parent. So now, at 72 years old and in my third go around as a dad, I want to share six ways to fool-proof yourself from creating this mental and emotional trap and ending up with a bagful of bad feelings.

My Six Tips on How to Stop Hating Being a Parent

1. Kids come with pre-wired instructions to be messy, sticky, and dirty - Eventually, they may, or may not, learn the importance of cleanliness. You’ve tried non-stop to teach them, but it may or may not take. Guess what? Either way, letting this reflect on your ability to parent is somewhat silly, so don’t take lip from anyone saying otherwise. Instead, invite those who find fault to take a seat on the sofa with the crusted-over spaghetti or let your kids bring them a sticky glass of water. Then laugh, laugh, laugh.

2. You need to be your Number 1 - if you can’t be good to yourself, there’s no way you’ll be able to be good to your significant other or your kids. As parents, we prioritize our children; that’s a given. Dropping them to a second place is not what I’m talking about here. Regardless of what’s going on in your busy daily life, you have to make quality time for yourself. It doesn’t mean you necessarily need to go to a spa or hit the happy hour karaoke, although this helps; it could also be having meaningful time with your kids, significant other, friends, etc. It needs to be something that makes you feel good about yourself, recharged. Something that truly makes you say, “Well, slap my thigh! That made my day!” And do this daily.

3. Everything you know about parenting is right and wrong at the same time - each parent/child relationship is unique, and so are the ways kids will get their fingers stuck in the darnest of places (btw, dishwashing soap and Vaseline tend to work most of the time). Trying to raise happy, successful kids that are kind and empathetic, amazing at math and grammar, are mindful and caring, clean their bedrooms without prompting, and wash their hands before touching anything they might make grimy is a great goal. However, pushing to get kids to be all this is a recipe for dissatisfaction and frustration. In short, you’re setting yourself up, and them, for failure.

4. Take each and every piece of advice with a grain of salt - maybe some come from modern parenting techniques, others are supposed to be tried and true wisdom. Regardless of origin, until you find a set of rules you can call your own, consider all advice suspect. What are the motives? What kind of end results are they trying to achieve? Is it really about good parenting or about passing judgment on what they perceive to be flaws in your parenting? I’m not saying to disregard them outright. I mean, the advice about not running with scissors or chainsaws is still a solid one. Get into the habit of researching advice and don’t take it at face value.

5. You can’t fix everything in your kid’s life - hard as we try to prevent it, your kid is going to get his knees bloodied at some point, she’s going to experience anger and pain when her best friend dumps her, screams at you that they hate you. These are “parenting sucks” moments for sure, and it’s easy to cave into our getaway-from-it-all fantasies or throw ourselves under the bus and decide we must be bad parents. Well, I got one for you: as parents, we can’t stop many things from happening to our kids, and it hurts. Yet, we can’t live, or have them live, permanently fearing the unknown only to protect ourselves from heartache. Living brings about wear and tear, and a fully lived life has the scars and badges to prove it.

6. Drop. Your. Expectations. - I cannot say this enough times. Expectations are always the culprit behind every bad hair day, even if it doesn’t seem apparent at first. If you think standing in the post office line with a screaming two-year-old is a bad situation, wait until you start turning the screw on yourself and automatically internalize the moment as a parenting failure for being unable to quiet the kid. Don’t do this to yourself; it’s bullshit. Crying and screaming at the top of their lungs is what 2-yr-olds do and taking them to public spaces is often unavoidable. While you might think (and you’re probably right) that a few people in that line hate you for not getting things under control, take solace in the fact that they very likely don’t have kids at the moment but will become parents themselves one day, if you follow my drift. And bless the sweet older people who look in your direction with knowing eyes and smiles. Their kind words and very presence should be what we all strive to be: wise and patient (and not a little gleeful it’s happening to somebody else and not them).

Mom. Dad. I cannot stress my tip #2 enough. Be good to yourself.

Hating being a parent is ok, and no, this is not what poor parenting means. Yet, if you’re the type who keeps a suitcase made and is ready to bail whenever possible to avoid parenting issues, you would benefit from speaking with someone who can help you figure things out, preferably a professional - my 2 cents.

Otherwise, you’re probably like me, a parent who knows and understands that children are a lifelong commitment; like diamonds, they are forever. I already know from having grown children and an 8 yr old that good parenting is not about perfect results. Kids are not trophies to show off to other parents.

Parenting means getting dirty, being exhausted, and receiving little if any gratitude or recognition for your daily efforts. And you know what? It’s in the job description. So letting go of what perfect parents and kids need to be like is the greatest gift you can give yourself and your kids right now.