“Educate your children to self-control…and you have done much to abolish misery from their future and crimes from society.”
(Benjamin Franklin)

There are few things I find more self-sabotaging than parents trying to manage their kids’ behavior. Recently I was in a conversation with other parents of teenage boys, and they were complaining about having to work so hard to get them up, out of bed, and off to school. Junior is in high school.

“I’ve tried different alarm clocks.” “I’ve tried different bedtimes.” “I keep trying to cook a better smelling breakfast, hoping that will entice him from his cave…”

Of course, I couldn’t keep totally silent: “What has he tried?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you guys have talked about all you’ve tried to wake him up-what has he tried to wake himself up? Who’s problem is it? Has he asked you to help him, or do you find yourself asking him to help you?”

Our job is not to manage their behavior; our job is to help them learn to manage themselves.

“Some men storm imaginary Alps all their lives, and die in the foothills cursing difficulties that do not exist.” (Ed Howe, U.S. journalist)

Marriage is difficult. No newsflash there. But very rare is the spouse who accurately points out the exact nature of the difficulty. In public we all usually cite the general challenges of communication, of finding enough quality time together, of balancing the finances. In private, we usually credit the unique challenges of being connected to our specific spouse—her work schedule, his parents, her preoccupation with the kids, his preoccupation with sex.

But while each of those “issues” can be points of contention, and thus feel like real difficulties, none of them actually pinpoints the real truth of why “marriage is difficult.” The real difficulty of marriage is embedded within the very nature of marriage itself: it demands maturity. Yes, it’s maddening, but marriage is difficult because it demands that you take full personal responsibility for all your actions (even if your spouse doesn’t). Like how you spend your time, regardless of how your spouse does. Like how you address your spouse’s spending habits, even though you’re nervous about her response. Like how you represent your preferences in the bedroom, even though you hear your mother’s disapproval in your head, and you fear your husband’s rejection, ridicule, or disinterest.

This level of maturity, of authentic self-representation, can be a mountain of difficulty. But it’s definitely a mountain worth climbing.

“There is…nothing to suggest that mothering cannot be shared by several people.” (H. R. Schaffer, O Magazine, May 2003)

Jenny here. I saw this quote and I knew that I had to chime in. Back when our kids were young, the only thing that kept me somewhat sane was the network of friends that I had. We would gather together and let the children play while we exchanged stories, shared laughs, and bounced ideas off of each other. We took turns babysitting, we cleaned each other’s houses, we cooked meals and we shared them. And in the midst of all of this, we mothered. Together.

Think what you want about Hillary Clinton’s politics, she had it right when she said that it takes a village to raise a child. Unfortunately, our society has become so much more mobile and far flung that the village is sometimes hard to come by. Moms, I speak directly to you, and I urge you to make your own village. Drop the charade of the Supermommy. That’s so 1990s. Move into the next millennium by being brave enough to admit that you struggle. You’ll be amazed at how quickly you become the Pied Piper of silent martyr moms who want so desperately to help and be helped. There is no award for doing it all on your own, but there is a tremendous reward for blessing others and allowing them to bless you. In doing so, you create the village it takes to raise a child, and you’ll rise up in the process.

–Jenny Runkel, Co-author ScreamFree Marriage

“I believe that what we become depends on what our fathers teach us at odd moments, when they aren’t trying to teach us. We are formed by little scraps of wisdom.” (Umberto Eco, Foucault’s Pendulum)

What are you teaching your kids in those moments when you’re not trying to teach them anything at all?

What if the great author Umberto Eco is right, and whatever your answer is to that question is exactly what they’re learning most from you?

Here’s some of what I hope my answer is (what my kids are learning when I’m not trying to teach them):

I love being with you.

I don’t always have an agenda for your life.

I enjoy accomplishing difficult tasks.

Relaxing is necessary, even as a “responsible” adult.

The second I stop learning is the second I stop living.

Your mother is the girl of my dreams, and the most important person in my life (even more important than you).

God is Love.

“Togetherness is a good thing. Separateness is a good thing. We need each in order to have a really great relationship, and they need to be balanced. Even more important is the ability to combine the two at the same time.” (John & Linda Friel, The 7 Best Things Happy Couples Do)

As a kid, I was fascinated by conjoined (“Siameze”) twins. I read stories in the Guinness record book, and I watched TV specials on the courageous families and doctors facing the challenges of separation surgery. These people faced unbelievable choices, and almost always (regardless of the outcome) came away with some sense of gratitude for the journey.

But none of them ever claimed that being conjoined was an ideal situation.

And yet, that is what is often promoted as the ideal relationship in marriage. Through our love songs, our family legacies, and even our best relationship experts, most of us end up with a vision for marriage that is simply not workable. After marriage, we’re supposed to be one, always on the same page. Your spouse is supposed to meet your needs and complete you. And us husbands, we’re even supposed to introduce our spouses as our “better halves!” You were an independent single person, but now that you’re married, you’re now simply half of a whole, needier than ever on someone else.

And, perhaps crudely, that’s why I consider my coaching work with couples as a kind of “separation surgery.” Couples need to hear that separation is a good thing. Individuality is a good thing. It’s not just okay—it’s vital to have some separate interests, opinions, positions, circles. That way when you are together with your spouse, it feels like a voluntary connection between two people facing each other, instead of a necessary attachment of two people joined at the hip.

“It’s impossible to protect your kids against disappointment in life.” (Nicholas Sparks, Message in a Bottle)

Mr. Sparks is obviously right on this one, but it’s actually worse than that. It’s impossible to stop ourselves from actually introducing disappointment into our kids’ lives. We are fallible creatures, we often let our kids down with our own behavior, and it doesn’t take very long for them to figure this out.

So, should we just give up trying to protect our progeny from any of life’s disappointments, especially their own parents? “You might as well get used to it, kid—life’s a b—h, and so am I.”

Heaven forbid.

Parenting calls us to this paradoxical path of striving toward provision, protection, and preparation, all the while never pretending any of that will be perfect. Here’s what it can look like:

“I know you’re disappointed how this all turned out, son. And I’m guessing you’re even disappointed in how I handled things. For my part, I apologize. You deserve better leadership from me. You also deserve to know the truth, that life is often gonna turn out differently than you had hoped. That’s never a reason to give up hoping, though—in this family we always strive to get our hopes up, ‘cause disappointment is nothing to be afraid of.”

“Misbehavior and punishment are not opposites that cancel each other – on the contrary they breed and reinforce each other.” (Haim G. Ginott)

One of the biggest mistakes parents (and all leaders) make is our stubborn belief in punishment. “You deserve to be punished” is such a common statement that few of us really recognize it as a mistake. We heard it from our parents, who heard it from theirs, and by golly, our kids have heard it from us.

I don’t want us to be too hard on ourselves for this—we don’t deserve to be punished for our habit of punishing others! But I do want us to examine the idea critically. We like punishment because it feels like justice. Crime needs to be followed by punishment. But think about that for a sec—why do we feel the need for justice when our kids misbehave? Do we feel hurt by their mistake? Do we feel mistreated? Do we feel our authority threatened? If so, then it makes sense we long for the justice of punishment.

Of course, that means we’re taking their choices personally. Which means we still feel responsible for their behavior. Which means they can’t feel responsible for it. Which is why punishment never works. In the name of making them take responsibility for their actions, we actually end up telling them to take responsibility for our uncomfortable feelings.

Our job is not to punish our kids; our job is to train them. Our job is not to enact justice upon our kids; our job is to educate them about their mistakes in a way that encourages them to learn from them.

Don’t take your kids’ (or your employees’!) mistakes personally. Take them seriously, but not personally. Lovingly introduce them to the natural and logical consequences of their actions, while never wavering in your belief in their progress.

“You have to expect things of yourself before you can do them.” (Michael Jordan)

Want to be a great parent? Want to be up to the challenge of raising your kids while keeping your cool? Then expect that you can. Stop telling yourself that you can’t do this. Stop beating yourself up for the times you’ve screwed up. Those two common thoughts that you have are the very things that are keeping you stuck.

Start your day today by telling yourself how capable you are of being a mature adult. Then rise to the occasion by slowing things down when you find yourself in the heat of the moment. That way, you’ll be giving yourself a chance to respond rather than react to a stressful situation. It will be hard, but each time you do it, you’ll be getting stronger and more equipped to handle whatever comes your way.

“Be a fountain, not a drain.” (Rex Hudler)

If I had to guess, I’d say you know a few people who weigh you down with their neediness and pettiness. These people are overly sensitive and they are very draining to be around. On the other hand, you probably know a few folks who, for some reason, make you feel lighter and better about yourself whenever you’re around them. They are comfortable in their own skin and don’t need you or anyone else to make them feel good. They pour energy into you like a fountain.

Now for the tough question… Which one of these categories do you fall into on most days?

The next exchange you have with another person, try this little experiment. Watch yourself as if from afar. How energizing do you find yourself to be on a sale of 1-10? If you are more draining than you’d like, do some thinking about what it would look if you were to move up that scale. For instance, try decreasing the sighs and eye rolls when your kids grate on your nerves, and repeat the following phrase to yourself:

“No one can make me feel anything. I have the power to be a drain of energy and life, or a source of it. The choice is completely up to me.”