In Synch a Lesson in Communication

Rosemarie Hoyte
October 2011

I have found that staying in-synch and connected with my kids is easier at some stages than at others.

We all know about the terrible twos and threes. You know, those years when our little bundles of joy can become, well, little pains in the behind. When the blue seat is better than the green one, the yellow dress is better than the pink one -- with the screams and tantrums to mark every disagreement.

At least that's what I had been told and expected to happen. But the truth of the matter is that the so-called terrible twos and threes were a comparatively easy ride for us. I'm not saying that there weren't any temper tantrums or tears, but I'd done my homework, read the books parents are supposed to and joined mother and toddler groups, where tips were plentiful. Nonetheless, there were days when I felt totally exasperated with my little cuties.

I remember the day when one of them refused to walk to school. I had managed to successfully coax him out of the house, but by the time we hit the main road, the magic had worn off and he had reverted back to his obstinate, four-year-old self. He stopped and refused to go any further. No matter what I tried, he wouldn't budge and with his brother and buggy, it was impossible for me to drag his cute little behind to school.

I tried the usual tricks, walking slowly farther and farther away as if I were leaving. This used to work, but somewhere between the ages of three and four years, he had worked out that I wouldn't leave him. So he simply sat down in the middle of the street, waiting for me to turn around.

We did eventually get to school and the teacher was good- humored enough to laugh off our lateness. I suspect this was not the first time she had heard such stories from exasperated parents.

However, being aware of the challenges of this stage helped to prepare us, kept us connected and ensured that I didn't pull all my hair out!

In those early years, one of my greater challenges as a mom was to feel the value of my role. The transition from the world of mission and work to that of diapers, bottle feeding, school runs and kiddies' television programs was not an easy one.

It wasn't that I didn't enjoy my new role, but it took me a while to adjust and to understand that what I was doing now was investing in the future, preparing the next generation and even if society or church, former colleagues or myself even, didn't always recognize what I was doing, it was and is, nonetheless, a holy mission and valuable task.

So I invested myself in doing as good a job as I could by improving my skills with classes and doing activities that could enrich their childhood experience. We therefore became regular visitors to the surrounding parks. I bought a child-seat for my bike and perched one on top while the other cycled beside me. This along with zoo, museum and seaside visits and the occasional LEGOLAND treat kept us busy and happy during those formative years.

Fortunately, the pre-teen years of our growing bundles of joy did not present too many challenges either. But there were a few. Like the wanting to dye the hair red phase; the wanting to pierce ears phase -- not pretty on boys; the wanting to wear dreadlocks to school phase; and the staying out late without a phone call stage. However, our children were generally sensible and only occasionally trespassed over the boundaries. We understood each other well and I felt in step with their thinking, feelings and growth.

I would like to say that this was all due to my amazing parenting prowess but the truth is that until they reach a certain age, we are their legal guardians, we are bigger, have a wider vocabulary to deflect sassy remarks and we hold the car keys!

My four children now range between the ages of thirteen and twenty-two. One day, one of my young adults said something that quite stopped me in my tracks. In a very quiet but direct way, he said, "Mom, you're not listening".

In that moment I could have said, "You're right, I'm sorry...," but I didn't. I kept on talking, in an effort to hide my embarrassment and hold on to my pride a little longer. However, I couldn't sleep at all well that night. My son's words had struck a nerve deep in my heart and I knew he was right.

I had stopped listening, stopped looking for answers to our differences and was quickly becoming disconnected and out-of-synch with what my children were feeling and thinking. This realization was so huge that I could barely contain it. I needed to take time for prayer and reflection.

Slowly I began to understand the changes I needed to make. Some of the changes were simply external changes, requiring more strategic thinking, forethought and organization within our family. But others are harder and will take more time.

But I now aim to speak more quietly. It's surprising how much a whisper can achieve above a shout. I have also been practicing smiling more at home-1 mean beaming jaw-breakers which are now almost a habit and I have realized are more a matter of choice than of feeling.

Our children know that we love them but above the noise of secular society and the busy-ness of our lives, it can become difficult for them to actually feel this.

One of our growing bundles of joy really struggled to understand that the boundaries we had set, that seemed so much more than what his friends had to endure, were set as a result of love and not out of a desire to control. To understand that both he and we as parents had the same goal in mind, that is, the fulfillment and happiness of our children, took a while, but with patience, we were finally able to communicate this heart and fall in-synch with each other again.

My children would be the first to say how much I have to learn as a parent -- and I would agree with them. But what I have learned thus far is that within our family, a smile can speak a thousand words, a quiet voice can heal the wounds of many misunderstandings, and patience can help to fan the flames of love that enable us to remain in-synch with each other's hearts.