Why You Should Treat Your Child like a Terrorist

            Whether it arises from dinner being thrown on the floor, a child who opens every cabinet and touches every item within, or the persistent flailing about of a preschooler in winter, we’ve all sometimes wondered if our child would be more at home among a band of pirates. And those issues don’t approach the rolling, wailing, flailing simply because you served me the wrong snack temper tantrum. We’ve all felt the mounting tension, the rising pulse, and the sky-rocketing blood pressure accompanying that first groaning shriek of a tantrum. In those moments we might like to ship our child off to Guantanamo Bay, but is there a more practical response to temper tantrums? Well, if your child is behaving like a terrorist, treat him like one.

            In their book Counterstrike, New York Times reporters Eric Schmitt and Thom Shanker discuss the developing U.S. strategy in the war on terror. They note that one of the few pre-9/11 Osama Bin Laden experts was a mother of six who used her insights from parenting to understand terrorists. I aim for the reverse, to use counter-terrorism strategy as an insight into dealing with the craziness of childhood.

Deny, Capture and Kill

            Immediately after 9/11, counter-terrorism strategy had a dual focus. First was denying terrorists the opportunity to attack American soil again. The idea was that terrorists would find America too well secured, and look for targets elsewhere. The second emphasis was capturing or killing key terrorist leaders. While both strategic emphases experienced some practical successes, they ultimately failed to eliminate terrorism as a global threat. This is because both emphases have emotional roots in fear, anger, and a desire for revenge. As the war on terror progressed, the U.S. learned that we could experience a series of tactical successes and yet be no closer to defeating terrorism.

            We’ve all seen parents who rule by emotion. We know capture and kill moms who respond to any transgression with overwhelming rage. We know denial dads who feel so ill-equipped to deal with misbehavior that they seldom take the kids anywhere. These approaches sometimes prevent tantrums, or at least end them quickly, but since they don’t address the cause of misbehavior they don’t reduce its likelihood. Just like battling Al Qaeda, parents can “win” individual battles without winning the war. While there is a time to show our children that they have angered and hurt us and a time to avoid certain activities because we believe they will end poorly, fear, anger, and revenge should not be the guiding principles of parenthood. The U.S. quickly learned that such responses to terrorism don’t work, so should parents. We need to find a way to make children not want to throw tantrums.

Traditional Deterrence

            As America settled into the war on terror, some voices began to call for a better strategy. The voices came from interesting places, like retirement communities. Some of the masterminds who fought the Cold War insisted that the tactics used against the Soviets could work with Al Qaeda. They were referring to a strategy known as deterrence.

            After the Second World War, the United States and Soviet Union stockpiled nuclear weapons. It became imperative to ensure those weapons were never actually used. American intelligence officials recognized that they and the Soviets both valued things like cities, factories, facilities, and people. If convinced that using nuclear weapons would cost them these things, it seemed logical that the Soviets would not use nuclear weapons. In other words, the Soviets needed to think that they would lose more from an attack than they would gain. Traditional deterrence worked very well. Nuclear weapons were not used.

            Parenting involves much traditional deterrence. We constantly create, or should be creating, situations where children learn that poor behavior costs more than it gives. When a preschooler throws a tantrum and loses an entire day of television, that’s traditional deterrence. When a teenager loses the car keys for a week after violating curfew, that’s also traditional deterrence. This isn’t just good parenting, it is wisdom for life. What we want right now may cost us what we want most. Traditional deterrence in parenting directs our children away from undesirable behaviors and trains them for adulthood.

            While traditional deterrence is a necessary parenting strategy it is not always the best strategy. Traditional deterrence assumes that a showdown is likely, and its practitioner seeks to ensure that she does not lose that showdown. It creates a situation where parents must “win” confrontations through some type of force. Our children learn by “losing” a power encounter with Mom and Dad. While some willful attitudes should be broken, traditional deterrence used poorly can crush the spirit of the child, which is not good parenting. Traditional deterrence is sometimes necessary, but a better strategy aims to avoid unnecessary showdowns.

The New Deterrence

            As counter-terror professionals applied traditional deterrence to the struggle with Al Qaeda, they realized terrorists don’t value the same things superpowers do. Terrorists seldom possess large cities or military bases and often sacrifice life in pursuit of ideals. They aren’t influenced by the losses that proved effective in the Cold War. However, that they don’t value the same kinds of things doesn’t mean terrorists don’t value anything. The intelligence community compiled a list of things terrorists do value, like reputation, advancement of religion, operational success, publicity, and unit cohesion.

            Convincing terrorists that attacks would cost them things they valued led to new deterrence. Many things terrorists value are legitimate. There are individuals around the world who desire these things, but pursue them without killing other humans. New deterrence seeks to thwart terrorist desires when they attempt attacks, and fulfill their desires when they pursue goals peacefully. Practically that means doing things like publicizing failed terror plots. If terrorists think they will look foolish when an attack fails, they will be less likely to take the risk. The strategy also publicizes individuals who abandon terrorism. Islamic leaders are recruited to commend those who seek peaceful resolutions and condemn those who commit violence. Through diplomatic means, the U.S. has sent representatives and Islamic leaders to nations, even specific villages, known for producing terror recruits to convince younger generations that there is a better way. In short, new deterrence builds on traditional deterrence to convince potential terrorists not just that attacks will cost more than they will gain, but that there are appropriate peaceful avenues to achieve their desires.

            I believe that new deterrence is the heart of parenting and the best response to tantrums. As parents, our job is to teach children the appropriate ways to pursue desires. When our child throws a tantrum, it doesn’t mean that we are failures. It warns us that our child is seeking fulfillment in the wrong way. New deterrence teaches us that a tantrum has little to do with the act itself, but is tied up in the surrounding context of the tantrum. We must address inappropriate behavior when it happens (traditional deterrence), but it is more important that we teach our children there are better ways to pursue desires (new deterrence).

            New deterrence might sound complicated, but you don’t need to be scheming like a chess master and patient like a tortoise to make it happen. In fact, it is best to be clear, direct, and simple. Here are a few principles I use with my kids:

Tantrums never succeed. When one of my sons throws a fit, I remind him that tantrums do not succeed, and take whatever disciplinary action is necessary. When he has calmed, I point out that the tantrum did not succeed and that tantrums will never succeed. This action does not fulfill his desire.

Offer an out. Often, parents and children get locked in an adversarial situation which one might “win,” but everyone will lose. Let your child know he is not out of options. During a tantrum, I simply ask my son if he thinks this situation will end well or poorly. Sometimes, he will acknowledge that this will not end well and will back off of his demands. If I am exceptionally wise that day, I then back off and allow him to collect himself or offer some snuggle time. If he decides that his tantrum is leading to a positive resolution, we move to traditional deterrence.

Be predictable. Establish clear routes your children can use to pursue desires. My sons do not receive juice before lunch and then only when they ask politely. The predictable route to obtain juice is to wait until lunch and politely ask for it. Statements along the lines of “I want juice” at 9 AM do not result in juice. There is no surprise in that, and therefore no reason to freak out. . . theoretically.

Good behavior pays off. If we seek to teach our children that there are appropriate avenues to fulfill dreams, then we must reward the pursuit of those avenues. My oldest son loves staying up late, but we only let him do so when he has been pleasant and helpful throughout the day. When he does this, he gets to stay up late for some special time with Mom and Dad. His use of the appropriate avenue pays off. If you make a shopping trip with the kids and they behave well, reward them. It doesn’t need to be with toys and snacks. Sometimes looking into their eyes and expressing pride and gratitude is plenty. Be creative, but reward good behavior.

Humility

In St. Paul’s letter to the Christians in ancient Philippi he confesses, “Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of this. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” Paul was talking about his journey as a follower of Jesus Christ, but I embrace the same attitude as a parent. My home is not characterized by Zen-like calm and special agent style strategizing. I too run thin on patience, lose my temper, and just do and say stupid, thoughtless, things. But, I see a better way. A way to guide my children into adulthood with care, thoughtfulness, and intelligence, and I invite you to press on with me toward that goal.

Conclusion

Childhood is an adventure. It is an exploding world of discovery, possibility, and imagination. It is an astonishing place where play is work and work is play. Awe and wonder are as familiar as neighbors, and every day has the potential for amazement. From our childhood we bring our dreams for life and form those dreams into plans and mold those plans into reality. From our childhood we grow our character. But none of this can happen if childhood is not nurtured, guided, and shaped by those older and wiser. If our children are not guided into the pathways of proper behavior, then all of the wonderful things which grow in their imagination will remain dreams. Our children will not grow into adults who work hard to shape the future. They will not travel to Mars or invent a petroleum free world. They will simply become large children who do not know the paths to follow. They will become bitter, jaded, disillusioned, and hateful because they do not know how to turn dreams into reality. They will become the type of person who always blames others, always finds fault, always tears down. They will be adults who throw temper tantrums.

If Crimea Were a Volleyball Game: A Forced Analogy for a Manufactured Crisis

For many people, making sense of what’s going in Crimea is challenging. For those people, I offer this analogy.

            Imagine that you are a volleyball player at Springfield Area High School. You are looking forward to an upcoming game against the neighboring, and somewhat larger, Mudville High. Mudville has a reputation for producing solid athletic teams, and have even developed their own “Mudvillian” system of training. Several weeks prior to the big game, your school’s superintendent surprisingly decrees that all athletic teams will now train according to the Mudvillian method. This doesn’t sit well with some. In fact, adopting Mudvillian training seems to benefit Mudville more than Springfield. So, there’s a whole lot of drama, and the superintendent is fired. The next day he is seen hanging out at Mudville High. Strange, but you’ve got a game to play.

            The day of the big game arrives. Springfield and Mudville take to the court. The stands are packed including a rather large contingent from Mudville. Not surprising, because they live so close. The game begins normally, but after a few points are scored a young man appears on your side of the court. You’ve never seen him before, his clothes seem very similar to Mudville’s volleyball uniforms, and you’re pretty sure he came from the direction of the Mudville bench. But his uniform doesn’t actually say “Mudville,” and he claims he’s an enthusiastic Springfield supporter who wants to make sure the game is played fairly. When your coach insists he leave the court, the Mudville fans begin to boo and some of the larger ones start to line up on the edge of the court. The referee looks confused, but doesn’t say anything. You coach advises you to play on, just don’t antagonize the “supporter.” The Mudville fans return to their seats.

            Mudville serves. The supporter smacks the ball to the ground on your side of the court. Mudville claims a point and celebrates. You protest. The supporter claims this is exactly what he was worried about and is joined by several more, similarly dressed, “supporters” from the Mudville bench. The referee calls a meeting with the linesmen and they huddle in the corner, whispering quietly. Meanwhile, play continues. Mudville serves again, this time clearly out of bounds. Lacking linesmen, the Mudville coach asks the opinion of the Springfield team. The Springfield “supporters” begin to loudly yell, “It’s in! It’s in!” Mudville celebrates another point.

            The referee returns and asks Mudville to remove their players from Springfield’s side. The Mudville coach claims to have no players on Springfield’s side and further advises that if the “Springfield situation” is not remedied, he will have to intervene. Mudville fans once again begin to line the court. The referee advises everyone to proceed with caution and returns to his huddle.

            Mudville serves again. You attempt to receive the ball, but collide with a “supporter.” The supporter then stands toe-to-toe with you, screaming in your face. You look to your teammates, most of who are standing about in a shocked silence. You look to your coach, but find that he is gone and your assistant coach is giving you two thumbs up while wearing a Mudville T-Shirt. The referee returns just in time for the Mudville coach to declare Springfield out of control. He insists that the Springfield players want him to coach the team, and suggests a vote. Before you can say anything, the “supporters” begin to loudly chant “Yes! Yes! Yes!” The Mudville coach declares himself dual coach of Mudville and Springfield. Mudville fans go wild and begin to strip the gymnasium of any reference to Springfield.

            The referee returns to declare that, until the “supporters” leave the court, Mudville must play without their setter. The Mudville coach agrees, but the setter goes nowhere. He’s too busy handing you a Mudville uniform.  The newly appointed Springfield superintendent arrives, stating that he is deeply concerned. He assures you that he is working on a plan to allow you to leave the court. The Mudville coach gives an impromptu speech regarding his bold leadership in averting a crisis.

Reflections on 4 Years of Stay-At-Home Dadding

Although the actual date has been lost in the haze of 4:30 AM wake-ups, vomit avoidance strategies, and small-scale railroad construction, I believe that this week will mark the end of my fourth year as a Stay-At-Home Dad. This morning I found myself perusing old entries in my journal and stumbled across a date which was heavily underlined, 6/8/09. A few months after the birth of our first son I found myself in a difficult employment situation. Two years earlier I had left what once was a near dream job to branch out into something completely new. I found myself working for one of the kindest and most patient men I have ever had the honor to meet. He was exceedingly gracious to this young man who was as out-of-depth as he was brash and arrogant. He led our organization with a quiet humility that I would only truly appreciate years later. Unfortunately, there were others in the organization seemingly bent on watching it all burn. Trapped between bottomless patience and endless viciousness, I writhed like a caged animal with no way out. It was a time of spiritual crisis where I simultaneously begged God for both victory and escape. For months I struggled and squirmed and whined until one day, 6/8/09, when I made the following journal entry:

Today is the day. I have been set free. This is not my struggle. It is not my fight. There is something else. Out There.

Little did I know that I was only two months, and an entire world, away from a life of diapers and bottles. If I had even a suspicion, I certainly had no idea how distant “Out There” truly was or how far I would be stretched beyond any previous understanding or experience. How far beyond “hard” I was about to travel. So, in August of 2009 I left the “working” world to be a Dad, only a Dad.

Our culture is trapped in a transition between two lies about parental roles. The first lie says that a man’s worth is tied up in the size of his paycheck, his ability to provide for his family. A woman is defined by her ability to bear and raise children. I had never been paid exceedingly well for any of my previous work, but the inability to quantify my full-time occupation with a number haunted me for months. It left the nagging question of what defines a man. Had I simply become a woman with a penis?

My little internal struggle was interrupted by a much more important crisis. Our eldest son, Jacob, was born with an enlarged left kidney. As we later learned, the ureter on that side was kinked where it left the kidney, preventing urine from flowing into his bladder. The backlog of urine would cause the kidney to swell until the pressure became great enough to push past the kink. As Jacob grew it was only a matter of time until the swelling became great enough to cause him pain. That time came when he turned one. Jacob would wake up in the middle of the night screaming with pain. There was nothing we could do to help the poor tiny child as his back arched in agony until the urine pressed past the obstruction. Jacob was scheduled for surgery, which went well, but there were problems with his recovery which led to the most difficult and perhaps most enlightening week of my life. Months later I wrote my thoughts on the experience:

Back in March I was driving home from the hospital at midnight. Nicole was at home with Jacob. His surgery earlier in the week to clear a blocked kidney hadn’t gone well. Urine had been leaking out of a hole in his side for days. The bags we had been given to collect the urine didn’t work – kept falling off. Thus the midnight trip for more supplies. I was exhausted, stressed, angry, and knew my son was headed for another surgery if he didn’t stop pissing out of his side. But then I realized something. This “family thing” is the greatest thing I’ve ever done. Nicole and I were given this challenge because we can handle it. To set aside yourself to care for a child who needs help, to be strong and love my wife while she loves and is strong for me is a gift more valuable than all the gold in all the world. This is why we say that God is good. 8/30/10

I had found my response to the first lie. Manliness isn’t found in a paycheck. It lies in the midst of the struggle to set aside yourself, abandon your own wants, desires, even hopes, to try your very best to be a blessing in the life of another person. Manliness lies in the broken and bloodied body of a man nailed to a cross for no crime other than love. In that one horrible week I had found a picture of manhood which I could pursue as a Stay-At-Home Dad. Am I just a woman with a penis? Maybe. But there is no shame in it. If this is the path I am called to travel, the cross to which I will be nailed, than it is the most manly of things to travel that road and hang on that cross.

The second lie our culture tells us is that whether man or woman, you can have it all. Being a parent doesn’t mean sacrificing careers, or even hobbies. You can pursue your dreams while outsourcing child care and still be a wonderful parent. Recognizing the realities of time and space reveals this lie as impossible. We are given a finite, unknown, amount of time in this life and every moment we choose to spend in one location is a moment we cannot spend in another. The basic reality is obvious, but I still fell for the lie.

I’m blessed with a mother who gives each of her children one day of free childcare every week. When I first began staying home I chose to use that day to pursue my master’s degree. With a baby who napped well, I was able to attend school almost full-time. Then the second son came. Caleb is a blessing sometimes disguised as a crazed chimpanzee. School slowed to a trickle and missed opportunities began to accumulate, and sting. Potential publications remained potential. Employment offers were turned down. Fascinating volunteer opportunities had to be ignored. My beloved bicycle sat in the garage, neglected. Anger and resentment began to build. It seemed so unfair that I sacrificed so much while friends went on to achieve success and my wife got to have a career. I loved those two little boys very much. But on many days I would have traded them for a career if I could have.

One day, obsessed with myself, I had a chance encounter with a man a Wal-Mart, a man who can only be described as an angel. In a few short moments of interaction he changed my entire perspective. I came to realize that this job I do means giving up any ambition I have of doing anything for myself. This goes far beyond surrendering my desire to have it all. It means surrendering even my expectation to plan my day when I wake up in the morning. It means that, to soothe an awakened child, I must set aside this writing right now . . . and not take it up again for hours, or days, or years, or perhaps leave it unfinished forever. And this is not only acceptable, it is the job and the job is exceedingly good.

It sounds insane, a grown man abandoning employment and ambition in order to change diapers, a lot of diapers, but it remains the greatest thing I have ever done. The opportunity to set aside whatever dreams I once had to allow my wife to pursue her own dreams is an opportunity to love which I had never imagined possible. The chance to raise three little boys, our third came just last month, is a challenge imbued with a goodness and depth of meaning beyond any rigor I could have anticipated. It is a challenge that is not about me, yet defines me. It is the role I was made for but never imagined. How do you raise a man to love both others and the truth? How do you teach him to be respectful but not deferential? How do you train him to be chivalrous but not condescending? And the biggest question, will I dare for baby #4 without hanging myself with my shoelaces? I can’t wait to find out.