Mark KennedyView other columns by Mark Kennedy
My taciturn father taught me an important lesson: If you want your communication with your children to be clear, put it in writing.
I don't mean covering your toddler with sticky notes. I mean: Important things you want to tell an older child might be best suited to pen and paper.
Several times during my life I remember getting thoughtful, handwritten notes from my late father. Once, he wanted to give all the money from a family yard sale to charity. Another time, I had just bought a car and didn't have money for a good radio. A note from my dad outlined the terms and conditions of a parental loan of $188 that would allow me to get the radio with cassette player I really wanted.
Another time, he thought I had made a bad choice and told me so in a note that communicated his disappointment tempered with words of understanding. It's almost impossible to communicate dispassionately with a child in a blurted discussion, which can easily become emotional and spin out of control.
A note can be considered line by line, even word by word. It can also be read and reread, which leads to understanding. I find that writing things out reminds of us our better selves and leads us to self-restraint.
Just last week, I used this strategy with our boys, ages 9 and 14. It was the final week of Christmas break and I sensed that my guys were about to implode. Lack of structure had led to boredom, and boredom had led to festering hostility.
For the last two days of Christmas break, my 14-year-old son would be asked to watch his younger brother for several hours each day, and I could tell they were headed toward a mutual meltdown. To get ahead of the game, I brought the boys together around the dining room table for a little morning meeting. If our house were the world, our dining room would be Switzerland, neutral territory reserved for celebratory feasts and serious talks.
On the back of an envelope, I had created a contract that spelled out a series of expectations and rewards for the boys' time together later that day. Work and recreational options were outlined in 1-2-3 order. There would be periods of homework, time for quiet reading and, yes, time reserved for play. There were also a series of built-in cash incentives as well as a mandatory arbitration clause which included my cellphone number to settle any grievances.
I asked both boys to initial the envelope, which they did with serious faces. I thought about having them shake hands, but reconsidered when it occurred to me that the handshake might morph into fisticuffs.
Later that day, I emerged from a meeting at work and I noticed that my older son had called my cellphone 30 minutes before. I promptly telephoned him back.
The 14-year-old answered the phone, "Hi, Daddy."
"Hey, buddy," I said. "I see you called me. What's up?"
"Oh, we had a little dispute here earlier, but we worked it out," he said flatly.
"Excellent," I said. "That's just what I wanted to hear. Hang in there and I'll be home in a couple of hours."
I was pleased on two levels. First, I was happy that the boys had resolved the problem themselves. Second, I was proud of my older son for not throwing his younger brother under the bus. Part of their agreement had obviously been to keep the terms of their settlement private - a sign of maturity, I thought.
These little victories, these flashes of personal growth in your kids, are what parenting is all about. They are the signs of nascent adult impulses awakening inside your little people.
Sometimes as a parent you have to operate on faith, but ultimately, given the chance, most kids will do the right thing.
And you can write that down.
Contact Mark Kennedy at mkennedy@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6645. Follow him on Twitter @TFPCOLUMNIST. Subscribe to his Facebook updates at www.facebook.com/mkennedycolumnist.