Until children develop self-control, they really cannot be given responsibility, which leaves parents and other adults constantly picking up after them, and worse.

Here's a natural and simple approach to developing self-control simultaneously in both child and supervising adult. It starts with the premise that the child can control himself or herself if given the opportunity. But it works only if the responsible adult models the same behavior.

The approach is called "Self-Quieting." It results in a peaceful state of mind in which emotions can be worked through and solutions to the problem found. The child learns that controlling others does not resolve conflict, but that he can achieve success by looking within. And best of all, you get to set an example that you will be delighted to have him imitate and learn from.

To begin, you and your child should both set up places where each of you can go separately when you need to regroup. The area should be pleasant and comforting. For the child, perhaps a spot in his own room, a rocking or beanbag chair, in the kitchen where it's warm, or even outside, where he can quiet down and work things out for himself, which might be by doing something (hammering nails into a stump, kicking a ball, going for a run), or just by sitting down and doing nothing.

For you, the quieting space could be a window with a view, your needlepoint, an airy room with quiet music -- any uncluttered, peaceful place for you alone. Each of you should plan and then create this place for yourself.

The next step is modeling behavior for the child. The first few times you may have to go with him; if he's old enough you may be able to put up a sign with three questions as a reminder:

What's the problem?
What's my part in the problem?
What is one thing I can do to improve the situation?

Here's what you do. Get down on your child's level, look into his eyes, and say calmly and lovingly (this part is critical; take a breath and do it right!), "It looks like you need a break. Go to your self-quieting place. Come back when you're calm and ready to move on or to resolve the problem."

Say this only once, which shows your respect for him -- and for yourself as well. If he doesn't leave, pick him up or lead him, always gently and lovingly.

If he comes back acting appropriately, let him stay; if not, return him to his space without a word. You may have to do this several times. Be patient. Be persistent. Don't say, "Come back in five minutes." That would be telling the child what to do, not letting him understand it for himself, which won't work and can backfire ("When can I come out? Is five minutes up yet?").

Some families will want to use a special word or signal to give notice that self-quieting is in order. But the child's space must be a happy place where he can collect his thoughts and regain composure and from which he can return cheerfully and peacefully -- not as a wrongdoer who's finally shaped up.

The Essential Difference
How is this approach different from Time Out? The idea is the same, but the focal point is quiet thoughtfulness in a comforting environment, along with an activity that the child chooses for its association with pleasure. It emphasizes the change in attitude, not the ticking clock.

Try this approach for a week, and you'll see how handling conflict positively can change the atmosphere in your home.

And for You…
But where does your own self-quieting place come in? If you're working with a child whose goal is power or revenge, who simply refuses to go to his own self-quieting place, you go to your own. Don't give him the power struggle he expects, just tell him you'll be back when you are ready.

Although at first this method may seem time-consuming, remember this principle: take time to teach now, and you won't have to teach the same thing again later. This is a wise investment of your time and energy, as well as a good exercise in self-control and stress management for you. The payoff in terms of self-respect, family harmony, and new problem-solving skills is tremendous. You are teaching conflict resolution skills to last a lifetime.

Make it your goal to bring peace to the conflict. Do this from a position of strength and purpose, not anger. Remember, peace begins within the home.

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Questions for you:

1. How is this approach different from the Time Out that you use?

2. If you've tried this approach, how long did it take you to master it? How were the results different?

Time Out is of course modeled on sports, where it provides a breathing spell, a break. When a coach calls, "Time out!" he's saying, "We need a moment to think this through."

Time out should create that same kind of breathing space for children, not to mention adults so frustrated by the child's actions that they can't think what else to do.…

Time Out is of course modeled on sports, where it provides a breathing spell, a break. When a coach calls, "Time out!" he's saying, "We need a moment to think this through."

Time out should create that same kind of breathing space for children, not to mention adults so frustrated by the child's actions that they can't think what else to do. Time out should be seen as a way to give both parties a chance to re-group. It works because it removes the child (and the adult) from the confusions of the moment, thus providing time to see a bad situation in a better light.

In other words Time Out is just another a way to redirect a child who's misbehaved, and a better way at that, as it gives the child time to think lovely thoughts without adult help. It also releases the adult from the obligation to create a distraction: when a child's thoughts get to redirect themselves, you get a breather and the child gets to find a solution independent of the one you might expect.

What a relief!

And Then…
Actually -- fortunately -- it's not quite that simple: while the first part of Time Out is removal from the situation, the second part is helping everyone to understand what went wrong and how it might go better. Like a football team, you and the child have to find a solution by communicating with each other.

Here's where you, the adult, learn a new discipline that exemplifies the discipline you want your child to learn. While your son or daughter is away from the situation, get yourself away from it, too. If you were so wound up that you couldn't find a better way to redirect things, then you need a breather. If you can, go somewhere else to relax, ratchet your thoughts back down to normal or shut them down altogether, and toss out the old tapes. You are listening for a new solution.

Some experts recommend that you pick up your sewing or dishwashing or rocking in your favorite chair, any non-intellectual pursuit that lets your mind work on a problem independent of your efforts, rather like sleeping on it. Such a retreat is always an option; there is no specific time when you must return to the matter to discuss it with your errant child -- sometimes it's better the next day, depending on the child and the problem. But at the appropriate moment you must. Don't succumb to the temptation to set a specific limit to the Time Out -- "Go to your room for ten minutes!" Instead, say "When you think you're ready to come out, call me." That way the child controls the decision to come out rather than being locked into an arbitrary timeframe. Allow him this; it primes him (or her) for thought.

Now comes the best part, because instead of lecturing your charge on how to do better, you get to ask him or her for a solution. "What do you think went wrong here?" tells the child that it's not only his responsibility, but his right, to do better. It says that being right is not the necessary prerogative of adulthood.

If the child counters with, "I don't know," be sure not to tell him.

Instead, say amiably, "Let's think it through together." Go over what he or she thought happened, and then, if it was different from what you thought happened, throw your view into the mix. Talk to each other, it needn't take long. Don't allow yourself any knee-jerk conclusions, and don't let your child off too easily either. If you're not both satisfied with the solution, it probably isn't a good one: you want to teach your child to think the situation through rather than let emotions take over. You want to show your child how it's done.

The Moral
How much saner this approach is than one that says "I know what's best for you,-- so don't bother to think for yourself!" Don't we want children to think for themselves? If their solutions surprise us, isn't that terrific?

Time out is an approach we should all use when we get into a jam. It's not, "Don't stand there, do something!" Instead, it's "Don't do something, stand there!" A solution will present itself if you let it.

Why do we all, both children and adults, think it better to cling tooth and nail to a position we've arrived at rather than see what solutions others might offer? I think we adults feel that we haven't the time; children think, from our example, that this is how it has to go.

But the time is better spent here than in repeating failure. Not only children ("out of the mouths of babes…") but maybe the janitor or your secretary or the elevator operator has observed a problem that's finally landed on your desk at work. Maybe he (or she) has a suggestion that you can flesh out together.

Give the other person's thought equal weight with your own, regardless of age or station, and take a load off! Stepping back to listen to others, to think before acting, allows new ideas to flow and shares the responsibility for finding solutions. Remember also to give credit, whether to your child, your janitor, and anyone who contributed to the solution. "Good work! We figured it out," reinforces the lesson and encourages future successes.

What a better way to live!

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Questions for you:
1. How well does Time Out work for you?

2. Do you find that there's much variation in results as children get older?

3. Do you think adults need a separate space for their own Time Out? How long does it take you to unwind?

4. Can one come back to the situation two days later, or is there something critical about addressing it in full at the end of the Time Out period?

5. What other strategies have you found for preventing clashes/power struggles with children?

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Note that independence – a firmly established sense of responsibility – arrives in stages. As with shoe-tying, the obvious value to parents in a child’s acquiring any skill is that he’ll need less supervision, allowing you more time for your own pursuits – work, shopping, and time with younger siblings. But don’t, like my mother, leave all choices to a child without adult input (see Part 1).

A healthy five- or six-year old will not rush to break rules. If you tell him, ”No crossing streets until you can show me you’re ready!” he will probably tell you when he’s ready. Meanwhile he’ll be learning to handle his bike and enjoying his new mastery of old territory. But stick around, it won’t be long. Monitor progress throughout the process, and spend time nearby. Later, be aware of the amount of time your child is off riding alone. Most of all, clearly state each and every rule as the situation arises, and note its observation: the way your child responds to your first rule will tell you his likely response to others.

In The End…

All in all, it's work launching a child in any complex activity. You must let go when the child gets it, but not before. (If he’s the space shuttle, you’re the booster providing liftoff.) He may need days and several tries to give up those training wheels – to stop wanting to tell you how to help and actually take off on his own.

While for you it's all about guidance, support and slowly letting go, for your son or daughter, a bike is about the courage that leads to confidence. It's learning to trust her bike in the way that she once trusted only you. It's the freedom of wheels that will take her faster than she can run, faster than either Mom or Dad can run, and even faster than that barking dog can run, if she only has the courage to keep pedaling.

A critical note: be careful to match the size of the new bike to your child's height. I still recall Mindy, the child in my neighborhood whose parents bought her a big beautiful blue bike to learn on, and how, in those days before helmets, she fell headfirst from her big beautiful bike, and was hospitalized, and died. Get a good helmet, not a cheap one; if your child is anything like I was as a kid, you won't know everywhere she rides or what tricks she’ll want to try. If you thought your toddler fell regularly when learning to walk, it's a bigger, harder fall from a bike, and no less frequent at first.

Finally, the message that mastering a two-wheeler delivers is this: just look straight ahead and keep pedaling. You’ll get where you need to go.

What a great lesson for a child to learn.

Questions for You:

Do you have bike-riding children of your own, or for whom you, as a nanny, provide care? If so, where do they ride and what rules are given to them about riding?

Did you have a bike and did your experience vary much from mine at that age?

How do you think bike-riding children should be restricted as to where they go?

How should parents reconcile their concerns for their children's safety – in re the presence of drug dealers, kidnappers, child molesters and thieves – with their desire to encourage independence?

Let me know – I'll respond!

Becky has been a live-in nanny for nearly 18 years with the same family -- from the infancy of two through college of the oldest, and through parents' divorce, dual custody, and the re-marriage of one. Becky was the International Nanny Association's Nanny of the Year 2006 and received Parents Magazine's first award to a nanny for her dedication and creative work with children. The truths of Becky's original article still hold, and she has just updated it with a P.S.

Lately I've found myself thinking about the style of caregivers and parents as children turn into -- O no! -- adolescents. Our household, with a seventh-, a third- and a first-grader, engages me daily in this issue. I've contributed articles here about the gifted chid, about imagination, independent play and preparedness, but I don't know how well I've portrayed the progress of children as they move throughout the elementary grades into junior high school and the potential in this progress for the nanny.

Almost daily, Cassie, who is twelve going on 40, challenges me in so many ways. Sometimes the challenge is intellectual, spurring debate on issues or ideas, which we both love. Sometimes, however, the challenge is aimed directly at her parents' authority, or at mine. And occasionally she does things that seem to have no purpose but to wound. These attacks can pointed at someone in particular or everyone in the vicinity or just thrown out for any approaching victim. Yet Cassie also makes us laugh with her incisive wit, she is extraordinarily generous to others and has demonstrated outstanding child care abilities, ensuring our strong recommendations to neighborhood parents seeking a qualified "sitter."

Working with such adolescents -- probably with any adolescent -- is a real challenge: they are still children, who need us to guide them, to set limits and ensure their safety. A nanny may become more their friend or confidante, but they also need to know that she remains a partner to their parents.

Listen
Older children can seem rude, foolish or sassy when their words are judged rather than their ideas. I remember being a cocky teen and occasionally rather nasty, so that arguments with my mother started before either of us knew what was happening. Now that I'm the adult I catch myself reacting reflexively to what I hear coming from that lovely twelve-year-old: often her sarcasm and flippancy obscure her ideas. So I'm learning to step back and listen. I've found that perceiving and addressing her issues can be more important than correcting her demeanor. Sometimes just listening can resolve the need for confrontation: if a subject can be addressed openly, why attack? We can address the attitude at another time, keeping it separate from her ideas.

Mutual Respect
For girls in particular adolescence means sensitive feelings, so that ground rules are vital. Cassie's parents and I don't tolerate negative remarks, name-calling or harsh treatment of others. We work to set clear, reasonable and consistent boundaries. Most important, we know where our flexibility ends, so that, if a crisis looms, we can take a time-out for ourselves to separate the facts from the hot emotions and bruised feelings; ultimately my response to the situation needs to demonstrate clearly that I respect, support and care about these older children in my life, and I need to catch my breath in order to do that. Yes, modeling behavior for children continues as they mature. In fact, that's sometimes all you have left.

Praise the Positive
Tell them often how wonderful they are, because it's true. People have asked me how I can love working with children on a daily basis year after year -- but it's easy because children are the most fascinating people you will ever meet. I find even their nuclear meltdowns intriguing. Watching the progress of their interests and passions gives us plenty of opportunities to compliment. Take advantage of these moments: applaud achievements each day! I had a hard time one day recently finding something positive to tell nine-year-old Alec -- all I could come up with was thanking him for not slamming the car door. That one compliment, which I had to dig for, made all the difference in his attitude for the rest of the day: the adult's being able to look beyond the child's weakness allows him to do the same.

Challenge Yourself
The day may be gone when we spend the afternoons playing "kitchen band," blowing bubbles or playing hide-and-seek, but we can still find new activities to challenge us -- all of us. Reach beyond old boundaries, let children take more of the lead: sometimes they
don't need you to do anything, but just to be available.

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Post Script
I can hardly believe it’s been almost nine years since I wrote this article. In reading it again I was amazed and delighted to find that my observations about working with the older child have changed very little. However, I did think an update was in order.

Cassie is now a senior in college majoring in biochemistry with a minor in Latin American studies, and freaking out about getting into medical school next year. (I’ll interject here – she has absolutely nothing to worry about.) We keep in touch through email and by phone, and we take time to have our own special day when she’s home for vacation. It has been my privilege to watch her mature into a delightful young woman who has a great sense of humor and a balanced approach to life. Cassie was my first teacher in caring for the adolescent, the teenager. How thankful I am that her gentle soul led me through those years.

Alec is a High School Senior this year and almost 18 -- I started with the family when he was 6 weeks old. He loves the challenge of school and is looking forward to starting his college adventure next year. We still enjoy lively debates, and his favorite time is when we are heading home from his private cello lesson listening to our favorite tunes. Alec still introduces me as his nanny and has no problem giving me a hug in front of his friends. He is one confident guy! With few exceptions this teenage boy has been a pleasure to guide and care for.

Marissa is 15 and a high school sophomore. She’s decided to grab high school by the throat and show it who's boss. Her artistic nature has continued to flourish and her creativity amazes me. She is now the one who pushes my buttons, the one I need to take a deep breath before I respond to, the child who is riding the emotional rollercoaster of a teenage girl and I’m hanging on with all my might. It is also the two of us who will laugh until we are dizzy over the silliest of things, sing and dance all over the house, and watch our favorite movies with a batch of popcorn. Marissa too, has no hesitation in telling her friends about me so that when I meet them they know that I’m her crazy nanny.

One final story: all three kids have gone to the same summer camp since they were very young and the two oldest are now on the staff. Last summer, at the final campfire program, Cassie was introducing the family to one of her co-workers while Marissa was leaning against me and behind me Alec had his chin resting on my head. She got to the “and-this-is-Becky” part when her friend said, “Oh, you are the person who raised Cassie!” I was taken aback a little because I had not thought of my time with this family in those terms. The children’s dad was standing next to me and immediately responded, “She sure is!” I don’t think it can get any better than that.

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Are there insights you can share about your experience with adolescent charges? We'd love to read them. Post them below. -- Mary Clurman, Editor

Animals (my son’s family lives in a suburb of a big East Coast city – no nearby cows and no pets yet in the home), especially dogs (I have two).
The West (Tony loves cowboys and I live in the desert).
Thanksgiving (it was that time of year).
Familiar stories told in a different way.
Or something that's just fun.

The books had, in addition, to meet my artistic criteria:

Immediately attractive – lots of color but not to excess.
Well-illustrated (evocative, with nothing superfluous).
Easy to read, so Abby could read to Tony, or easy to listen to, so I could read to both children together.

Finally, the common element of the armful I walked out with was that each book should contribute to helping the grands love and understand me (and why I love them so, even though we don't see each other often enough) and the way I live, which is so different from their lives.

The Books
Animals

Once I Ate a Pie, by Patricia MacLachlan and Emily MacLachlan Charest, illustrated by Katy Schneider. 9”x12”. (All measurements are approximate, all books are in hardcover unless noted otherwise.)
I’d seen this book previously but hadn’t managed yet to buy it. Magnificently illustrated in paintings with bold brushstrokes and pungent color, it gives each of 14+ dogs its own double-page spread — lots of color surrounded by lots of white space. Each dog is named (Sugar, Wupsi, Needle Nose, Mr. Beefy…), each narrates its own tale, whether to explain a breed and its type or to explain its (mischievous or lazy or shy) personality.
Sample text (German shepherd):

Gus
I want my people in a group. Like sheep.

When someone is in the bathroom, I open the door.

“Are you all right?” [text set in a wavy line]

They are NOT happy.

I take them back to the others.

When they go anywhere,

I am watching.

I am the herder.

Swine Divine, by Jan Carr, illustrated by Robert Bender. Holiday House, 1999, Joanna Cotler Books/Harper Collins. 9”x12” Filled with slangy synonyms that, taken one way are funny but to a pig who took them literally, mighty threatening.

The story: Rosie loves her piggy life, eating, rolling in mud and sleeping, and her owner is proud of her. One day he wakes her up with a bath, saying he’s taking her to Mr. Porkpie because he knows she’ll “ham it up.” Rosie thinks she’s to be eaten. The story takes her through ordeals that reinforce her fear. Finally Mr. Porkpie dresses her in bonnet and tutu and flashes bright lights in her eyes. Rosie runs out and back to the farm, rebukes her owner (“Oink! Oink!”) who concedes that she looks better au naturel, and Rosie returns to happy napping in her sty.

Mustang Canyon, by Jonathan London, illustrated by Daniel San Souci, Candlewick Press 2002. 10” x 9”
An essentially storyless book with striking paintings in double-page spreads without margins, simply designed, to tell young children how wild horses live. Good new vocabulary and a glossary defining terms (sorrel, bay, roan, pinto, stallion,…)

Roadrunner’s Dance, by Rudolfo Anaya, illustrated by David Diaz (Caldecortt Award winner for “Smoky Night”). Hyperion Books for Children, 2000. 11” x 9”
This tells a persuasive Native American legend, nicely bridging the culture gap without sacrificing tradition and flavor. Text appears in large type on a delicately patterned bright yellow background that is still easy on the eyes, with fanciful full-page, airbrushed, facing-page illustrations. Snake has been frightening the villagers, who ask Desert Woman to do something about it. She gives him a rattle to warn people when they come too near, but that doesn’t relieve the threat. So she creates Roadrunner, who learns to dance around Rattlesnake, pecking him to show him that he is not king of the road. Endnotes give more facts about these nifty birds.

Treasury for Children, by James Herriott, illustrated by Ruth Brown and Peter Barrett. St. Martin’s Press, 1992. 8” x 11,” About 100 pages.
This anthology of eight stories by the Scottish veterinarian and author of several classics including All Creatures Great and Small gives us eight true tales of pets and their people on farms in rural Scotland – kittens, a cat, an old cow, dogs, a horse, a lamb. It has large type on white pages and both large and small paintings of farm activities and creatures as well as warm portraits of farmer families. Herriott tells his stories gently and thoughtfully, and only the last, the one about the lamb, sounds as if it might have been made up, although around a real incident. Interesting accents provided in Scots vocabulary.

Just Mutts, A Tribute to the Rogues of Dogdom, text by Steve Smith and Gene Hill, individual photo credits. Willow Creek Press, 1996. 10” x 8,” 128 pages, including a few 2-3 page essays

This photo book captures what we love most in dogs: their adaptability, insouciance, courage, loyalty, and individuality. Smith and Hill write like grownup kids. Here’s a sample:

Muttness is self-training. Because they weren’t bred for specific purposes, such as pointing, trailing, or retrieving, mutts are free to pursue personal forms of self-expression. (Photos: dogs ascending and ascending step ladders just to see what’s at the top.)

I don’t know yet quite how the grands and I will use this book, as the text is adult and in small type. But the 100+ photos will ignite questions, and the text might prove worth reading aloud — it is as warm and enlightening as the photos.

The West

Storm on the Desert, by Carolyn Lesser, illustrated by Ted Rand. Harcourt, Brace, 1997. 10” x 10”
Less a story than a description of the desert lives of animals, the text tells lots, always beautifully, functioning in counterpoint to terrific watercolors of animals racing across the page to escape lightning and the torrent of a desert storm. Maybe it’s a book to read many times, on rainy desert days, once the children have already turned the pages again and again. Incredible artwork.

Little Red Cowboy Hat, by Susan Lowell, illustrated by Randy Cecil, Henry Holt and Company, 1997. 9“ x 11”
Lowell retells “Little Red Riding Hood” in terms that make sense to me: Little Red wears a cowboy hat, because a long red cape would frighten a horse. Grandma, certainly not locked in the closet or tied up under the bed, is outside chopping wood, and it’s she who chases the wolf away, saving Little Red. Big, bright, desert-colored full-page or double-spread cartoon-like illustrations that tell the vividly. Typography is unfortunately dated — bold condensed fonts with big serifsy to suggest the Old West but less legible than desired. As for political correctness, the Wolf remains unfairly maligned.

Way Out West with a Baby, by Mike Brownlow, writer and illustrator. Ragged Bears Publishing, 2000. 9” x 11”
Three rough ‘n’ tough cowhands sitting by their campfire hear a wailing in the night that proves to be a baby, apparently fallen from a passing wagon train. Gruff though they are they rescue it, bathe and feed it, get throwup on their shirts, and ride through a horrendous desert thunderstorm to return it to its momma. Told in verse that could easily be set to country music.

Thanksgiving

An Outlaw Thanksgiving, by Emily Arnold McCully (Caldecott winning writer of Minette on the High Wir)e. Puffin Books, 1998. Paperback. 10” x 9”
My grands are probably too young for this book, but it’s a nice story about a nice thing that could have been done by the real Butch Cassidy: Clara and her mom, traveling by train to California to meet Dad, get stuck in a snowdrift. To avoid freezing to death, they have to de-train and go somewhere else – Mr. Jones offers to drive them to Brown’s Hole, which Clara learns is where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid are about to launch their careers. Clara never tells her mom what she knows, and everyone has a unique Thanksgiving.

The Night Before Thanksgiving, by Natasha Wing, illustrated by Tammy Lyon. Grosset and Dunlap, 2001. Paperback. 8” x 8”
I know The Night Before Christmas by heart (don't we all?), and can sing it as well, so I am intrigued by this revision. It doesn’t sing as well as the original, or at least not always to the same tune, but the watercolor illustrations are cute and it all makes sense.

Albert’s Thanksgiving, written and illustrated by Leslie Tryon. Atheneum, 1994. 10” x 10”
Animals that act 100% like people are always suspect to me, but not to everyone, and Albert is particularly charming. Like most artist-writers, Tryon limits text, showing her ducks and rabbits engrossed in action. She does insert several notes from PTA President Patsy Pig, each of which asks Albert (a white duck) to help with another chore for the children’s Thanksgiving party. On the back cover we get a kitchen-tested recipe for Pumpkin Pizza Pie, which actually sounds petty good, so the grands and I might try it.

A Re-Telling

Sleeping Ugly, by Jane Yolen, pictures by Diane Stanley. Paperstar, the Putnam and Grosset Group, 1981. 64 pages. 6” x 8” Large type easy reader with nice text
The beautiful princess has an ugly temper, so the old witch refuses to give her three wishes, giving them instead to Plain Jane, who lives in the woods where the princess has got herself lost. They all fall asleep until one day a penniless prince arrives. Before kissing the beautiful princess, he practices on Jane (whose breath smells like roses) and the Witch, who then grants one of Jane’s wishes, that the prince should love her. The nasty princess is left asleep in the corner, forever a conversation starter for guests.

Miscellaneous Fun

I Stink, by Kate and Jim McMullan. Joanna Cottler Books/Harper Collins, 2002. 11” x 9.
My grandson Tony is an imp, a little stinker in his own right. This book about what garbage trucks do should be just right for him. The extroverted trash-crusher is ugly, noisy, crude, and eager to share vocabulary (“dual op,” “hopper,” “hit the throttle,” “bring on the crusher blade,”…) in telling the nasty things it does, such as drip stinky on the street and make alphabet soup out of apple cores, banana peels, candy wrappers, dirty diapers, et al. All two-page spreads, no margins, dingy-bright watercolors and unfettered typography.

Moonlight Kite, by Helen E. Buckley and Elise Primavera. Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Books, 1997. 9” x 11”
A big old monastery now houses just three monks, silent and occupied, who discover a kite caught in a tree beside the monastery wall. They rescue it and fly it, remembering their own youth. They then leave it in a smaller tree for the children to retrieve. The children do and then leave it again for the monks, who reciprocate by building a second kite. Soon all the kids of the town fly kites beneath the towers of the monastery and at night watch the monks fly the same kites under the stars.

And a Long Shot

We the Kids, illustrations, concept and foreword by David Catrow. Dial Books for Young Readers, 2002. 9” x 11”
This book was written for middle school readers. It translates the preamble to the US Constitution almost word-by-word into big, kid-funny illustrations. Example: the phrase “establish justice” has a munchkin showing an easelful of rules to his odd-lot buddies: “FAIR,…SHARE,… NO PULLING HAIR.” The phrase “provide for the common defense” shows the family dog wearing a helmet and standing behind a bunker in the moonlight while the kids play in the tent. “Ourselves and our posterity” becomes a picture window from which Mom and Dad watch over the tentful of sleeping kids. We’ll see if I can work it into the Thanksgiving weekend.

P. S. The books all went well. Favorites were Little Red Cowboy Hat, Sleeping Ugly, I Stink, and Way Out West. Albert’s recipe for Pumpkin Pizza Pie turned out to be terrific!
***

Collecting Them
But alas, collecting the quarters of the states has thoroughly hooked me and given me an idea for my granddaughter. There are lots of reasons:

Collecting them seems so natural. You get a good one or two every time you go shopping, even at the grocery store, so it isn't like you're buying things you don't need.

It’s democratic: everyone has access to quarters.

It’s not expensive – what’s a quarter these days? For a whole collection you'd be out just $12.50, and that spread over a period of ten years as the new ones have came out state by state. They'd all have gone into the change jar anyway. (If you think ten years is a long time, you must be a lot younger than I am!)

It takes no special effort. You do have to shop, but you don’t have to buy quarters as such, they fall into your hand at the checkout as you buy things you need.

Each new quarter feels like a reward for – well, not for buying as such but for paying attention. Unavoidable shopping trips have actually rewarded me, as each added another essential element to my collection.

It’s a no-brainer: just flip each quarter over to check the back. Better than a scratch-off freebie win-a-prize card because this prize is always worth at least a quarter, new or not.

It’s convenient. As we approach the Cashless Society, I’ve been filling a jar with change anyway. Now I can do something with it.

I’ve never gone out of my way for a new quarter, never to the bank, never shopped just to get change.

There’s no rush. New states have appeared over a period of years and still circulate.

You'll gather some nice trivia, too: what each state considers important about itself, how slowly they all joined the Union, and how some came in bunches (as in 1788), whereas others joined only after an interval of years.

What has all this to do with child development and nannies? Stay with me!

Displaying Them
In order to complete this project as pragmatically as I’d begun it, I would eventually have to decide what to do with my quarters. For me, as I honestly don’t like collecting, there was but one option: find a congenial method of displaying them and then give the whole thing away.

Here the project attained its final, child-oriented dimension. I had received all these silvery little gifts, these shiny tokens of good luck, with no plan for them beyond putting them all in my Quarter Jar, separate from the ordinary change I’d already been piling up (I haven’t had a change purse in years). Now I would organize them to bring out their essence, i.e.,

Get them out of that jar to be seen and enjoyed by all.

Find a format to satisfactorily demonstrate the way they represent the states.

Bring out the dates by ordering the display chronologically.

Do so in an artistic, flagrantly noncommercial manner.

Keep everything compact so as to delight the recipient to the max.

Present them beautifully – behind glass? on a map? on a flag?

But most of all, find the right recipient, someone who would marvel at and manipulate this treasure that I had miraculously assembled and yet preserve it and most important learn something thereby. The obvious recipient? My seven-year-old granddaughter Abby.

For Kids
But I had to know that Abby would enjoy it. I’d seen enough arrowheads and Lincoln pennies behind glass or in little plastic cases to know that such things don’t immediately appeal to all children. I had to find ways to involve her in the process.

Luckily Abby is just learning to count money. In her Montessori first grade class she is also studying geography and history for the first time. She reads, she understands dates, and she’s visited at least a couple of dozen states already. She’s volunteered that she’s learning the two-letter (postal) abbreviations for the states.

As for format, the two obvious choices were a US map with little pockets for the quarters, or a US flag, with the quarters somehow attached in the blue field in place of the stars. I kind of liked the map idea; I’d make it a child’s quilt or even a fleece blanket, hiding the quarters where they couldn’t be seen but only felt, in little pockets that would let the coins weigh down just a little on whoever slept under them. Some fun! But some disadvantages, too, the worst for me being htat the quarters could easily disappear over time, leading to disappointment for any child looking thereafter.

But it turned out that one of the skills Abby was working on was how to draw a star. She couldn’t quite get the stroke sequence needed to create a good, continuous five-pointer, so we worked on that, and then she decided to draw 50 stars on a single piece of paper. She colored in the blue background and taped that paper to three others on which to color the stripes of a big US flag. And that told me how I might attach the quarters: I could use white (elastic or satin) cording, tacking down at the points to make 50 continuous-line stars, each of which would hold a quarter. Behind each quarter I’d paint (or embroider?) the postal abbreviation for its state, simplifying the problem of keeping each quarter where it belongs.

I’m still considering making a whole flag, perhaps as appliqué, but I could just use canvas and paint the blue field, with a border of red and white stripes, which would take up less space. It has to accommodate 50 stars (a quarter is 1” in diameter), so that will about determine total size. I may mount it all on canvas stretchers, and then frame it in redwood, not sure yet how wide or thick.

And maybe, just maybe, I’ll put a glass door on it, so it can be opened and closed at will, and when the times comes, even locked – who knows?

As for the last few quarters of the states that I haven’t managed to find, my son, Abby’s dad, has a jarful of quarters, perhaps hundreds. It will be Abby’s task – her privilege – to find the missing states.

***

This rule seems to go for people as much as for things. Independence, getting ahead, seeing our children succeed – these are the things in life that count. Thus, if an old friend no longer shares our values, or a business partner destroys us financially, well, either friends/ partners/other people can’t be trusted anyway, or we find new ones. Ultimately, for most of us the nuclear family – Mom, Dad and the kids – is the only inviolable unit, and that holds true for as long as children depend on us to take care of them.

However it does evolve as children mature. Teens learn to shut parents out of what they consider private decisions – e.g., sex, drinking and drugs. Truly desperate children separate themselves completely by running away, disappearing for good. Many adolescents wait to complete the break by getting married, whether to escape a destructive family life, to start a new one of their own, or both. Ideally, one might shed the habits of one’s old family so that the new family, our own, is genuinely happier.

Once we do have a new family, it’s easy enough to forget the old. We have each other to care for, it’s enough to deal with work and the kids, and we have our own lives to lead. So we probably won’t think it a problem for our parents when we decide to move to a new town, or a new state, or a new country. (Meanwhile, they may migrate to Florida or Arizona because they, too, feel newly independent.) With physical distance, communication can deteriorate, and maybe that was the plan. If so, everyone loses out, because grandchildren need grandparents and vice-versa.

Let’s examine all this more closely, because when we lose in-laws, not only do our children lose grandparents: we all lose out.

In-Law Basics

We often hear stories of problems with in-laws: the mothers- and fathers-in-law who complain about sons- and daughters-in law who “aren’t good enough” or “don’t do things the way we did,” while sons- and daughters-in-law reciprocate with their own complaints. So we’ll start by clarifying terms, and with them, expectations.

1. By getting married, you acquire ties beyond spouse and children-to-be. No longer simply an individual, you now belong to an extended family because marriage is a process in which relatives on both sides turn into in-laws; two families expand with the addition of the next generation – your parents don’t lose a son/daughter, they gain a daughter/son.

2. In rearing you your parents theoretically accepted their side of this same obligation: not only must they let you, their grown children, go, but also, once you’re gone, they must accept you back with your spouse. That is, it should go without saying that your parents are just as obliged to accept your mate as your mate is obliged to accept them as in-laws. Thus family life over the centuries endures an infinite cycle of expansion and contraction. Each round of the cycle – marriage, children, aging, death and new marriages – is its own rite of passage.

3. Where did we get the term in-law? Those who coined it must have had a reason. Apparently, as far as the law was concerned, your spouse’s parents are equally your parents. Was the term invented so that an incoming spouse could not turn out the parents who had raised his/her mate? A way for society to ensure that someone supported the older generation in its later years? Even if we don’t take the term literally, even if there’s no actual law to support it, it’s clearly meant as an incentive, not a deterrent, to active family relations.

4. Did the same ancestors invent the term grandparent as an ameliorative, a means to help us see in-laws as a blessing when they might seem more a curse? Might good relations lie simply in a change of viewpoint?

5. Does the phrase extended family reflect (to at least some degree) a need to set the older generation just slightly apart from the nucleus, as members of a former life, as if they were just, well, old friends? Does the term contradict or support the fact that from your parents’ viewpoint, your mother will always be your mother, ditto for the parents of your spouse? It’s important to know, because to your parents, they are not the interlopers, your spouse is: they were there first.

Grandparents vs. In-Laws

Are we lucky or unlucky that, in America, families are expected to be mobile, to move on to new lives with our new families? Now that they don’t have us to take care of, they’ll be in some nice warm place where frankly it may be hard to spend time with them at all. No, in the USA, most parents don’t assume that they will move in with us, bringing with them your brothers and sisters, who bring their own children and crying babies, as we are told happens in third world countries.

While the disadvantages of such multigenerational housing are clear, we ought to consider also the advantages. Besides the built-in playmates and baby-sitters, you get help with household chores, there’s always someone to offer advice or share a recipe, children can get away with more of the little stuff and yet must learn early to share and to take responsibility. Everyone has to get along. While all of this may not work out perfectly, one cannot escape the need to compromise, and so one grows.

In short, society expects each generation to accept the other. Yet no one teaches us how to make it work out. In other words, if you thought marriage and child-rearing were tough, add extended family to your list, because they are part of the deal. We all have to learn to make it work.

Making the Most of Grandparents

Having grandparents around can be a big help, but your main concern should be their availability to your children, which turns out to be most of what they want. Thus,

Rule #1: You don’t have to call then Mom and Dad if you don’t want to: first names are good enough.

Rule #2: You don’t have to be their best friend, but your child could be. There’s an old man at the Senior Center near my home who seems to come there once a week to get reception on his cell phone so he can make a loving call to his great grandchildren. It’s not much, but it makes him very happy.

Rule #3: You do have to call them something – you can’t just ignore them. If they send a gift, send a thank-you note. If you don’t like the gift, consider telling them what you would like. If they call, don’t tell them you were just about to take a nap or that you have a good friend on the other line, at least not without setting a time to return their call.

Rule #4: If only to see their grandchildren, grandparents will visit. When they do, be sure to spend some adult time with them. The rest of the time they will probably want most of all to be with the little ones – terrific for you! If they spoil the children unduly, set rules or limit the exposure, but be sure to talk to your spouse – and your in-laws! – so as to plan this together.

Rule #5: Don’t put your spouse in the middle. If you don’t want your in-laws’ advice on decorating, your spouse is not the one to say so. Besides, it doesn’t hurt to listen – you don’t have to agree. Do what you like, but be kind enough to hear them out. In fact, tell them what you want to do. That will make it clear that you already have a plan, and they might just have something worthwhile to offer.

Rule #6: You’re not in this alone. Clarifying your feelings to your partner will help you deal with the problem, and finding a solution will bring you closer to each other.

Rule #7: You want your children to be able to express their feelings, but you won’t teach them that by covering up your own. If you have a problems with your spouse’s parents, look for ways to work them out. You may or may not be entirely successful, but you will have tried. Not only might that ensure that your children receive the extra love and care their grandparents have to bestow, it also ensures that, when your children marry and start a family, they will know how to include not only you, but their partner’s parents as well.

Rule #8: Finally, if you still have a problem, don’t sit on it, confront it. You probably can’t do that by telephone, you need to be face to face to see each other’s full reaction and response. So set aside a time, make it as comfortable as you can, start with an appreciation, but get to your concern. Try to phrase it as a question, e.g., “When you said (whatever it was), did you mean (what you thought it meant)?” That gives your in-law a chance to correct your impression or to confirm it. If the former, there’s not a problem after all; if the latter, assess the damage, remembering that not everyone may be as articulate or tactful as you. Besides, sometimes the younger generation has to help the older one grow up.

***

And now for your thuoghts…

How important were your grandparents to you when you were a child? What do you remember most about them?

How did your parents relate to your grandparents? Were they good friends, seldom seen, or somewhere in between, and how come?

If you are an in-law and grandparent, what has your experience been? How would you advise others to approach their situation?

Looking forward to hearing from you and hoping you will share your thoughts with other visitors – MC

To get him started I guided Tony’s hand in drawing the closed shape of the dog’s body (something like a rectangle or circle, whatever his hand suggested). Starting with a general shape breaks the deadlock of “I don’t know how,” since any child actually ready to draw a dog already knows how to draw a circle. It’s like saying, okay, what does this thing look like? Although the “How to Draw” books don’t say so explicitly, it is a way into drawing. It opens the mind to the project by not requiring an immediate product – to the contrary, the expectation of product is exactly what causes us to go blank when we want to draw. For the child as for the adult artist this step initiates a fundamental process through which the details will come in their own time. You are staking out a territory in which to find the details.

As for those, I asked Tony how many legs a dog needs and then moved our pencil to where they might go, and together we added them; similarly the tail, head and ears. I wanted not only to demonstrate the process of creating, but also that a drawing doesn’t have to be “perfect” to be “real.” And because my job was to help him draw, I didn’t just sketch a stick-figure dog to copy – while strict copying has an important place in art, it takes more discipline than imagination, the latter being Tony’s starting point. And I was inviting to work with me: it’s a rare child that can’t be drawn into a process whose time for him has come. I meant to show him that, once we’d started, we had only to move the pencil over the paper and draw, to let it out. Drawing is basically the way an artist learns, so that when you’ve learned enough, the drawing is done.

About the time we got to the dog’s head, Tony lost interest, so I suggested we just color it – it was a pretty nifty dog, neither adult work nor scribbling but a nice blend, I thought, a successful collaboration. My previous "art sudents" would have been proud of their part in such a rendering and moved on from there, but not Tony: he refused. When I tried to persuade him, he walked away. When I asked why, he said, “That’s not my dog, that’s your dog!”

Not My Dog

I was floored. Tony had accused me of betrayal – yet for previous children our collaboration had helped them take a first step toward drawing elaborate, confident pictures – dinosaurs on volcanoes and more. In each case it had seemed that, together, we had opened up their creative powers.

What Happened with My Grandson?

To start at the beginning, Tony strikes me as an unusual child in a number of ways. For instance, when we all went to the library to borrow books for their visit he found a paperback with a photo of Superman on the front. He’d liked the movie and said he thought this book might “have” what he wanted; for close to half an hour he pored over this text-heavy paperback. Still studying the last few pages as we moved toward the checkout he finally announced that it wasn’t what he “thought”— he didn’t want it. And he didn’t want any other book, either. So he is a child who knows what he wants, who's doing all he can to find it.

Tony turned four this summer, while his sister is nearly seven and starting to read chapter books. Tony, identifying with Abby, seems to want to get beyond picture books, too, although he doesn’t yet read at all. When their dad reads a chapter book to the two of them together, Tony listens and thinks and asks questions, getting a surprisingly good handle on much of the content, though sometimes it is clearly beyond him. Further, if a book that engages his sister doesn't engage him, he won’t, like many younger siblings, just act bored. For instance, when I tried James Herriott’s Treasury for Children, both kept an open mind for a few pages but neither could relate to the story. It was not for Abby, it was not for Tony.

Tony's parents showed me a book that he and a friend had “written” at preschool, a rambling narrative about animals and people and cars involved in improbable adventures, with the text (several pages long) transcribed by Tony's teacher. The boys made all the illustrations which, without exception, were what we typically call scribbles. Actually they were not scribbles, which are nondescriptive scratchings without any form, but more like the circles or mandalas that two- to three-year-olds create when they first pay attention to what they are drawing. Rather than simple circles, Tony and his friend’s mandalas were spirals, and thinking back, they were narrative: little squares and dots, carefully colored in and caught up in the spirals, seemed to mark episodes in the story. For Tony and his friend, I’m sure the symbology was clear.

Understanding Children’s Art

Do I project a lot into Tony’s “scribbles”? I am only hoping to decipher what he projects into them. I should add that over the years I have met a number of small boys (but only one girl) who were caught up in such fantasy worlds, – I think of them as my “lost boys.” Some drew or colored and some just talked on and on, as if no one ever listened anyway. I always wanted to get these children's toes, for a start, to touch the ground so they might communicate with the rest of the world. Drawing with them seemed to help.

But Tony is more practical than these boys. While his head is way up there in the clouds, his feet are firmly on the ground. For instance, he will go on and on singing a song for an audience, making it up as he goes, but he doesn’t seem to be lost in it; he knows he’s entertaining us and is pleased to be the center of attention, – he is definitely working to make that song good enough to hold the limelight.

Also Tony is used to being listened to, and that is probably the critical difference between him and my lost boys. Tony's parents listen. By answering his questions – confirming his efforts – they teach him how to think for himself. They do this consistently and well. And, critically, Tony’s parents also work to help their children generalize: they routinely demonstrate how to draw conclusions. Rather than try to field an endless series of why’s they will answer a few and then say, e.g., “Well, Tony, that’s how (whatever it is) works,”– establishing the fact that it takes a conclusion to round out a thought, that a well-founded answer to a question gives permission to move on.

I’d guess that Tony is building a personal hypothesis, a sort of Big Bang Theory of his own, to bring himself abreast of his beloved sister, who is his constant reference point. Although he often protests that Abby is unfair or disrespectful to him, these two children rarely fight. He does, however, want to share center stage. Unlike my lost boys, to whom no one listens at all, Tony knows he’s looking for an answer, a method, a strategy. He knows the point of the process, even if he hasn’t quite grasped the means to achieve it. Tony understands has to engage, not just ramble.

My Part

In working with Tony I’m sure I missed some clues: one must never forget that what succeeds with one child may not succeed with another – it might, but not necessarily; that's why, when we drew the dog’s body, I paid close attention to Tony's response, trying to follow the shape he was making but guiding it to completion as a closed form, different from a spiral. It was honest give and take.

When we got to the legs, I should have looked closer for his guidance – he registered a wee hesitation when we reached the feet, to each of which, imagining that this was a joint project, I added a couple of toes. He must have felt the contradiction, which I discounted – he wasn’t looking for intimate detail. (Toes would have worked for Abby because she already draws quite nicely.) In hindsight I suspect that Tony expected stick legs. Although he allowed me to continue from there, I did sense a pulling away – I had already lost him.

Most of all I regret that his response, “That’s your dog, not my dog!” so completely surprised me that I didn’t pursue it immediately. I would like to have said, “OK, let’s draw your dog. Where shall we start?” We might both have learned more.

###
Books to Consider
All titles available on Amzon.com, new and used.

Draw Alien Fantasies (Learn to Draw: Inspiration & Ideas for Young Artists) (Paperback from $1.85). The 11 year old reviewer says its simple-shapes-to complex-drawings approach taught him how to draw "cool aliens."

Understanding Children's Drawings by Cathy A. Malchiodi (Paperback from $25). Reviews are from adults, sounds like a straightforward treatment, readable and insightful.

Drawing with Children by Mona Brookes (Paperback from $6.88 – 27 reviews!). "Not exactly a book for children, but a book that will help YOU teach children! :o)" Parents & grandparents who reviewed said it taught them how to draw, too. I think this is the one I'll get for .

The Amazon url: http://www.amazon.com/gp/homepage.html/103-5932886-9543062. Search "Books", refined to "Children's Books", keywords "Drawing with Children." There are only 29 titles at this level, very searchable for titles that work for you!

Some Questions for You

• Do you draw? If so, what do you draw, and how long have you been drawing?

• Have you ever taught a child to draw? What worked best?

• Do you agree that any child can learn to draw?

• If you don’t like to draw, can you pinpoint anything specific in your experience that caused you not to try?

•If you are an artist or art teacher, or a nanny or parent, do my assessments here ring true?

I’ll do my best to respond via the blog.

Fortunately, while not yet old enough to drive a car, your 6-12-year-old is precisely old enough to develop the sense of responsibility for himself and for others that he’ll need for the final liberation of driving. It’s at this stage, well before adolescence, that young children lay the foundation for the freedom of adulthood, often with the help of a bicycle. A bike is a child’s ideal means for going farther and faster than feet alone. Riding a two-wheeler offers access to new trials and errors, and happily to experiences with full potential for building sound judgment.

Better for parents to structure this transition carefully, with limits for exploration gradually expanding, than to wait until there’s nothing to do but set rules that beg to be broken. In other words, if a bike is a tool of exploration for your child, then it is also your tool for learning to let go.

Back In My Day…

I remember wobbling along on training wheels until they broke, and my brother took pliers to them, and I managed to wend my way without them. That day I realized that all I had to do was look straight ahead, – forget the wobblies! – and I was free. It was, like, just do it, you can! and not far then to showing off ("Look, Mom, one hand!"), to hands-free coasting down the big hill near home, not to mention seeing how far up that hill I could pump without having to walk.

For me and my peers, bike riding was a marvelous exercise in managing freedom, especially because once we’d learned to watch out for cars Mom and Dad didn’t see much reason to worry – we lived out in the country, so I could ride as far as I wanted and turn back home when I was ready, decisions I made without adult help. Probably even more than starting school (always a matter of adapting to someone else’s system), riding a bike offered thorough independence. On your bike you grew by facing life on your own terms. How far could you ride? What sights would you see? How long might you be out there on your own, exploring – and thus conquering – the wider world?

From the time I was in third grade we lived at a lake. Our street, a long dirt road, ended at the local equivalent of a highway, although cars there were still infrequent. My best friend Barbara lived on the other side of the lake, and our school lay halfway between, down the road from the beach, to all of which I had to transport myself, as my father took the family car to work. I rode my bike to school, usually with friends but sometimes not. In winter I rode across the ice-covered lake. One summer, Barbara, upset because her father had beaten her dog, asked me to run away with her to an abandoned house we'd found on Highway 202. We went, but I didn’t stay. Another friend and I rode our bikes at least ten miles from home one autumn Saturday, just exploring, not getting home until suppertime. I don't think my parents had any idea we'd gone so far; I certainly never spoke of it to mine, and I doubt that she told hers. Although not yet 11, we had covered a broad environment, from neighborhood to town to much of the county.

In contrast, babies, toddlers and preschoolers are limited to their immediate environment. They learn to climb stairs, sit at the table, brush their teeth, etc. These are not intellectual challenges. In their performance children have few actual choices to make – and no complex decisions because you, the parent, control all outcomes: the kids are in the house or the yard, you see what they do and don’t do, and that’s that. An attentive parent can note the source of a problem and nip it in the bud.

But, while we do teach children the rudiments of decision making (“Would you like to read a book before your bath or afterward?” “If you want desert, you have to eat your dinner first,”), we may have little say in important decisions a child typically has to make between the ages of six and twelve. These are fundamental questions such as what makes a good friend? how strong am I? what’s safe and what’s not? and what, really, is a lie? For these, a child needs solid preparation – and then the opportunity to make his own decision.

When parents do have input with this age group, the payoff is significant, as it is the preadolescent, far more than the adolescent, who creates the adult. By the time a child is 12 years old, he or she has already acquired the underpinnings for the final product we call adulthood.

Thinking back on all the freedom I had, it was more than I wanted. I’d have been happy to be driven through or past those places that, in truth, felt spooky to me – the end of the street, the nearby highway, and the empty-seeming neighborhoods between my house and the beach, the school, and Barbara on the other side of the lake. But I wasn't: my parents stayed in the house while I played outdoors. My mother taught me manners, how to play the piano, and over many years, how to write, but she never played baseball or rode bikes with me. Nor did my father, who was always working. I think I’d have welcomed their participation, but the thought just never occurred to any of us. My parents had moved the family out of the city to a place where they felt my brother and I could play safely, and so they let us play.

Alone as we were, we were lucky. No one tried to kidnap or molest us – we rode with impunity wherever we chose. Traffic was light then and drugs not an issue, but for most of the country, that’s all changed now. What limits should parents set when today’s children are ready to ride? Here are some thoughts.

Good Judgment Starts Subtly

I’m a grandmother now, living a continent away from my grandkids. Given my level of hindsight, though, I think I would recommend parents begin by setting parameters in a short family meeting. Your daughter is ready to ride; where can she go, and what issues will define each step of her way to two-wheel independence?

How about getting together as a family to draw a map of the neighborhood and working from that? This should establish the rides she feels ready for now, as well as hint at others to follow – places she might like to have a parent along. Deep down, her wanting your company is her way of telling you that she needs you; responding positively lets you explain, clarify, warn or restrict, whether temporarily or permanently (“If you want to ride there, let us know, and one of us will go with you”). This process sends her along paths that you, too, can accept – and it teaches good decision-making. It’s quite the opposite of simply telling her what she can and cannot do.

Choose your routes and destinations in accordance with the map. In other words, don’t succumb to the temptation to ride together on a long adventure that you wouldn’t want a seven-year-old to try with his buddies. Instead ride to the place he’s almost ready to try himself – i.e., make sure that, when he feels ready, he is.

This much is critical: don’t expect a preadolescent to have the judgment of an adult, but do respect what judgment he has. For instance, as a child I did discern that riding beyond my immediate neighborhood was not a good thing; I knew when I left my comfort zone – I still remember the uncomfortable feeling of the streets immediately beyond my friends’ houses. Had my mother instructed me not to ride beyond those markers, I’d have understood that her rules reinforced my own. But because she said nothing, I made judgments that ignored my (better) instincts.

Significantly, if she had set boundaries for me, I’d not only have honored them, I’d have told her when I was ready to go beyond. Perhaps not every child would have, but providing the opportunity is half the battle. By looking for your child’s best instincts and working with them you operate at the limit of her abilities, where you learn from each other. You also make it clear that you’re thinking about her, proving once again that you care.

Remember to be there – physically – when you’re needed,– even before training wheels come off,– before you’re running to hold onto the saddle of that wobbly bike your child is trying to master. You might start with a child-seat on the back of your own bicycle, exploring and running errands that way with each child in turn. Even then you can talk about which trips require a parent and which could soon be solo flights. Later you can ride a younger sibling while your older daughter rides her own bike, turning an errand into a family event. Just as reading with your children gives them books as a natural part of family life, using a child seat opens the door to riding as a family. That final moment when your son or daughter takes off, self-launched on two wheels, should be neither the beginning nor the end for either of you.

Questions for You

If you have helped a child learn to ride a bike, what was the process like? Is that child's recollection of the process very different from yours? Does he or she see riding as a measure of freedom?

If you answered yes to the question above, how long did the process take? It's been some months now since Lily said she wanted to remove her training wheels, but last time I asked, it hadn't happened yet. (Her thought was to remove just one wheel at a time!)

If you have a young child who rides a bike, how old is the child and how involved are you in the riding?

At that meeting I was struck by the difference between the concerns of the older, city-based members, all long-established, and those of our group, all from the suburbs.…

At that meeting I was struck by the difference between the concerns of the older, city-based members, all long-established, and those of our group, all from the suburbs. The old-line agencies typically charged at least half of their placement fee to the nanny, who then reimbursed it in installments from pay. In contrast, we felt that all fees should be plaid by the employer. They spoke of “our girls” and the “flexibility” required by “our clients,” i.e., employers and parents, while we talked of “nannies” and fair pay.” My impression was that, while the older agencies courted employers as clients, they saw nanny candidates almost as merchandise. Even though nannies paid half the fee, they got no respect, and agents seemed concerned far more with placement numbers than with what we now call human resources. They had a product to sell and valued only those able to buy.

In contrast, we suburban agency owners were idealists in our focus on fair pay and hours. We talked – it seemed endlessly – about the differences between a “nanny,” who would focus on child care alone, and the traditional candidate, who was called a “housekeeper” but was expected to care for both house and children.

It was this awareness of a difference between "nannies" and "housekeepers" that ushered in a new industry, American nanny placement. For years we had to define the term “nanny,” but eventually the media caught on, and the idea of nannies as professional caregivers took hold. By 1992 fully four national organizations represented nannies in one way or another, pressing for improved working conditions, professional recognition, and standard benefits. The first was the American Council of Nanny Schools (ACNS), formed by nanny educators, or “trainers” as they were initially called, followed in 1985 by the International Nanny Association (INA) – agency owners, educators and nannies working together – and then by the National Association of Nannies (NAN) and the Association of Professional Nanny Agencies (APNA), both breakaways from INA.

Effectively only INA and APNA remain today as national organizations of many members. These still almost wholly volunteer groups have promoted fair pay, tax compliance, paid benefits, and reasonable work schedules for the nannies they place and, by extension, for all. The members of both organizations are business-oriented innovators representing the nation’s leading agencies.

At their worst, agencies had historically lined up their job candidates – immigrants, orphans, adolescents – on wooden benches, parading potential “employers” by to view all and pick as they chose. For this the nanny had a fee taken from nearly nonexistent wages – like a company store that left workers perpetually in debt. In fact, before the mid-Eighties – before Baby Boomers, women’s rights, consciousness-raising et al, – child care in America was off the books, done at home, untaxed, and bereft of benefits. Live-in caregivers, who were mostly illegal immigrants, were unpaid (they got free room and board!), too often treated like indentured servants who slaved for families that did not appreciate them. Eighteen-year-old Midwestern girls fared no better in the fast-paced and unfamiliar suburbs. Afraid of being “put out on the street,” they accepted considerable abuse rather than complain of poor working conditions. I met more than one family that expected a nanny to appreciate a cramped attic room with rough floors and truly ragged blankets, where she would be on call 24/7. As for the live-out nanny, she could still be told, “We don’t need you today [i.e., no pay]. Come tomorrow,” or “We need you on Christmas, regular pay.”

In the late 1980’s the new generation of agencies struck back for nannies, first by charging the entire fee to the employer. Through that decade and the next, pay went from a base of $150/week (for 50 - 70 hours) to $200 and, as nannies, urged on by NAN, took the initiative, with increasing speed, to truly professional pay for nannies with very demanding jobs – with parents divorcing, in dual households with split custody, with several children of differing ages all to be chauffeured to separate private schools and a plethora of after-school activities.

In the ‘90’s agencies began also to request, and then to require, that employers offer significant benefits – in writing. Contracts ranged from one page to many, addressing work schedule and duties, employment taxes, health insurance, car access, paid vacations, holidays, sick days and even personal days-off, as well as termination notice. These changes gained speed and currency through the consciousness-raising efforts of agency owners, primarily the leaders of INA.

At the same time, all parties to nanny placement are savvier. Nannies can honestly present as highly qualified career professionals, with impressive resumes, checkable references and educational credentials to justify their expectations. Having watched all the (now favorable) television shows about nannies, they are probably more willing to state their needs directly or spot a job that won’t work out. Similarly, parents who have heard the risks of bargain hunting (or experienced them directly) probably pay better. And reputable agencies refuse to place questionable applicants. They look for demonstrable maturity, solid credentials, and a long work history.

Mothers going off to work at well-paid careers have supported a burgeoning crop of agencies, as mothers who have once employed a nanny themselves come to feel that they understand the process and open their own doors for business. But growth has never been exponential because the mortality – the burnout rate – is always so high. It turns out that finding good parent-substitutes for other folks is more challenge than most business owners can endure.

It’s interesting, then, to note that so many of the early leaders of INA and APNA have stayed the course and now have substantial operations with sturdy six-figure incomes. These are the 50-75 agency owners, mostly women, who assemble annually for INA and APNA conferences. They remain the volunteer backbone – enlightened self-interest at work – of an industry that continues to develop, and in its own way, to expand, offering services to nannies and to families eager to hire or be hired or to start agencies themselves. The atmosphere at conferences is lively and collegial, with much sharing of information and excellent workshops full of open discussion.

To learn more about INA and APNA and their products and services, visit their Websites: http://www.nanny.org for INA and http://www.theapna.com for APNA (now also called NAPNA) or Google for the National Association of Nanny Placement Agencies – their site has undergone changes. Both offer directories of member agencies with links to individual agency Websites plus publications and on-line-resource libraries.

Questions for you

Have used placement agencies in the past,and if so, what was you experience?

Were you aware of INA and APNA? Have you used their agencies? If so, what differences do you see between their members and the non-member agencies you've encountered?

If you live in an area where INA and APNA have no member agencies, consider checking out their standards and using them to help you choose among resources that are available to you.

A: Routine temporary nanny care is easy enough to find, whether in home, in hotel or on the road. But finding someone near you is an issue: conventional nanny placement agencies concentrate in urban ares where the demand is greatest. That's why we have launched FindHomeHelp.com, a national roster for temporary child care providers.

Much temp care is live-out, provided by "come-and-go" nannies, some available for short hauls including overnight, or for driving a child to school or to the hospital to visit her mom. The minimum stay is 4 hours.

There are also temporary live-in nannies who will be in your home on a 24-hour basis, although as in any job, you must limit the actual work day to allow for her rest, too.

However, unless you know the dates in advance, finding someone available for the days you want may be tough. Most nanny temps depend on maintaining a regular income and thus cannot work purely on call. For instance, if the birth in question were as a C-section (i.e., scheduled in advance) this mom could schedule her child care and include time to get to know her caregiver as well. Until a date is set, though, it's hard to know who will be available, and thus unlikely to get to know her first.

As for cost, temps are usually paid an hourly or daily rate closely related to the going rate for full time in your area; in St. Louis, where we are based, it starts at $10/hour and increases with the number of children in care.

Besides regular temp nannies, there are also baby nurses, who specialize in newborn care. Although the baby nurse's focus is Mom and newborn -- changing diapers, teaching breastfeeding, covering Mom's naps as she heals, providing overnight care -- she will often help with older children. She typically works for a few days or weeks and up to six weeks, when the newborn is sleeping overnight and Mom is back in shape.

Because she charges more, a baby nurse's schedule may be more flexible. Make no mistake: the genuine baby nurse is a specialist. As such, her normal rate starts around $150-200 a day, and in bigger cities can be considerably higher. If scheduled for 24-hour care, she will work while her employer naps and sleep while her employer works. She's often an essentially retired person and can thus adapt -- at least somewhat -- to the vagaries of baby arrival times.

Whenever you hire temporary child care, remember that even your standard temp nanny is a specialist: make the most of the forms we provide at FHH, which are there to help bring you up to speed. We have worked with hundreds of successful nannies, temporary and permanent, many of who we have placed again and again with continuing success. But before we referred them at all, we interviewed each one individually and checked (and now maintain) all references and criminal and driving records. These tools are the essential basis of a thorough screening for candidates local to you.

In fact, temps require the same processing as full time nannies. We not only offer guidelines and resources for conducting a reliable background check of any nanny temp. Uniquely we also require registrants to adhere to our full disclosure policy, adding one more level of security to our process.

When you need a temporary nanny, visit us first to see if we have candidates in your area; if not, feel free to use the screening helps that we provide. During our startup your registration and referral, as well as all forms and advice, are free of charge.

Note that, while general employment temporary agencies may offer to place their people for child care, this is specialized work for which a well-screened office temp is not necessarily qualified. Even if your candidate comes through a friend or an established nanny agency, you should screen her thoroughly. Speak directly to at least three references, and check criminal and driving records.

This is a routine that neither side seems able to break. When both parents are present, Mom prefers to cede authority to Dad, who raises his voice, becomes stern, and announces an ultimatum. Abby's done this before, he knows that and he knows how he feels about it. "Eventually," his response to her suggests, "I will break you of this habit."

Her behavior frustrates her parents, but their behavior frustrates her, too. Abby is playing a game guaranteed to offend her loving (but imperfect) parents. She knows all the buttons and their power to provoke. Can she still count on this one to work? She'll find out: our children learn their strategies from us, either copying our ways or by trial and error developing their own ways to stymie us when they themselves feel stymied.

What should Mom and Dad do?
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Help us find an answer. Choose one and be sure to add your comments.

a) Ignore Abby's pouts and her tantrums as well. It won't hurt her to cry it out in her room, and she'll probably go there without being sent.

b) Listen to the vibes, i.e., figure out what provokes her to misbehave in the first place -- everyone's ignoring her? she's bored? -- and redirect before she does.

c) Ditto, except re-structure the situation by talking out the alternatives ahead of time. For instance, before sitting down to eat, whisper in her ear, "We're going to have carrots. You know Mom only wants you to eat 2 bites -- are you ready?" Or, "One way to keep dinner from being boring is for each of us to bring something to tell the others about. Do you have something ready? I do."

d) Mom and Dad need to work together on this. Looks like Abby feels she needs to take responsibility for keeping things interesting, 'cause Mom and Dad aren't. Try reading the newspaper aloud (and let everyone talk about it) if you can't think of anything else to do.

e) None of the above (alternate suggestion).

Your thoughts:______________________