Very sweet, Not RSS related, parenting advice!

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Close Your Mouth, Open Your Arms

By Diane C. Perrone

My friend called with disturbing news: Her unmarried daughter was pregnant.

My friend recounted the terrible scene when her daughter finally told her

and her husband. There had been accusations and recriminations, variations

on the theme of " How could you do this to us? " My heart ached for them all:

the parents who felt betrayed and the daughter who had gotten in over her

head. Could I be of any help to bridge the gap?

I was so upset about the situation that I did what I often do when I can't

think straight: I called my mother. She reminded me of something I heard

her say often through the years. I immediately wrote a note to my friend,

sharing Mom's advice: When a kid's in trouble, close your mouth and open

your arms.

I tried to follow that advice while my own were growing up. With five

children in six years, I didn't always succeed, of course. I have a big

mouth and little patience.

I remember when Kim, my oldest, was four and knocked over a lamp in her

bedroom. Once I saw that she wasn't cut, I launched into a tirade about how

this lamp was an antique, that it had been in our family for three

generations, that she should be more careful, and how did this happen - then

I saw the fear on her face. Her eyes were wide, her lips trembling. She

was backing away from me. I remembered Mom's words. I stopped in

mid-sentence and held out my arms.

Kim flew into them, saying " Sorry...Sorry, " between sobs. We sat on her

bed, hugging and rocking, for a long time. I felt awful for scaring her and

for letting her think even for a nanosecond that that lamp was more valuable

to me than she was.

" I'm sorry, too, Kim, " I said when she calmed enough to hear me. " People

are more important than lamps. I'm glad you weren't cut. "

Fortunately, she forgave me. There are no lifelong scars from the lamp

incident. But it taught me that it's better to hold my tongue than try to

retract words spoken in anger, fear, disappointment or frustration.

When my children were teens - all five at the same time - they gave me many

more opportunities to practice Mom's wisdom: trouble with friends, being

" in, " not having a date for the prom, traffic tickets, science experiments

that bombed, and getting bombed. I'll freely confess that my mother's

advice wasn't the first thing that came to mind when a teacher or principal

called. After fetching the offender from school, the conversation in the

car was sometimes loud and one-sided.

Yet on the occasions when I remembered Mom's technique, I didn't have to

retract biting sarcasm or apologize for false assumptions or rescind

unrealistic punishments. It's amazing how much more of the story, and the

motivation, you get when you're hugging a child, even a child in an adult

body. When I held my tongue, I also heard about their fears, anger, guilt

and repentance. They didn't get defensive because I wasn't accusing. They

could admit they were wrong, knowing they were loved anyway. We could work

on " what do you think we should do now " instead of getting stuck in " how did

we get here. "

My children are grown now, most with families of their own. One came to me

a few months back. " Mom, I did a stupid thing... "

After a hug, we sat at my kitchen table. I listened and nodded for nearly

an hour, while this wonderful child sifted through the dilemma. When we

stood up, I got a bear hug that nearly collapsed my lungs.

" Thanks, Mom. I knew you'd help me solve this. "

It's amazing how smart I sound when I close my mouth and open my arms.