It’s How You Think

Parenting has a bit of a PR problem. For starters, everyone calls it a “job” but since most adults prefer to avoid work, this is a stumble right out of the gate. Then there is the compounding glut of conflicting advice, which has become a running joke on social media. Even if we could create a serviceable list of good parenting’s qualifying attributes, this would likely affirm the lunacy of practicing them all at once. Unfortunately, parents’ mounting stress is no laughing matter and just about all of it is unnecessary.

Most jobs can be evaluated upon completion of tasks or an accounting of successes and failures. But the complexities of parenting defy this kind of simple binary assessment. Still, that doesn’t stop parents from obsessing over the latest parenting hot take. And I challenge you to find me a parent who, in the midst of a single failure, hasn’t silently exclaimed “I am a terrible parent.”

We have become our own worst enemies and the internet echo chamber affirms what was once simply a way of living is now a job. What was challenging is overwhelming. What used to be enjoyable is now exhausting. But defining good parenting by what it is or is not only guarantees our continued descent. The solution is a change of mindset, in which we characterize good parenting by the search for it.

This is why I began writing the Stoic Parent. Not because I know the answers, but in order to expand my search for them. As head of school at the Montessori Academy at Belmont Greene, I have seen so many parents struggle mightily with children of all ages. Encouragingly, I have seen almost as many parents find success in their efforts. The difference between the two groups is almost always a matter of thought. The degree of suffering or success hinges upon whether we ask the right questions.

For example; when your child does that infuriating thing for the thousandth time, what is the question on every frustrated parent’s mind? “How did it get this bad?” It is a good question, but poorly phrased, because the target is unclear. If we focus only on the child’s part of this recurring problem, whatever we find is already beyond our control. The better version should be “What have I done to help us get here?”

Most assuredly, you have a role. The important thing is knowing how you’ve played it. For example; a young child may experiment with lying to adults, but a child who habitually lies does so because the adults in his or her life have created an environment conducive to the habit. Accepting that is healthy parenting accountability. Unfortunately, too often the realization of our complicity becomes an act of self-recrimination, only adding to our stress.

Well-meaning writers post empathetic notes on Substack “If you’re worried about whether you are a good parent, you are a good parent.” That is a tidy little coffee mug sentiment, but also complete garbage. A worried parent is more likely to make bad decisions based upon flawed reasoning. So in truth, a parent who is not worried about being a good parent stands a better chance of actually being one.

So how do you develop a habit of questioning yourself without beating yourself up at the same time? Let’s stop and take a Stoic view of stress. In the words of Marcus Aurelius, “It is not the event, which worries you but your perception of it.” Understanding your impact on your child requires an investigation of facts. You get to decide whether to attach blame or shame. But if filtering out your shame is not as simple as it sounds, I have good news. Because when you do figure out how you are involved in the problem, then it is within your power to change it. I promise you, whatever challenges that might entail pale in comparison to the effort required to manage overwhelming stress.

Philosophy is the search for wisdom. Stoicism is the search for the virtuous life, which the Greeks called Eudemonia. Being a philosopher or a Stoic is not a static position to be achieved. It is an active, fluid, continuing process of inquiry and thought. Some of the greatest and most knowledgeable minds of Stoicism all share a similar experience. After their own emotional overreaction, they hear “I thought you were a Stoic.” To which they respond, “I am and this is a part of my search.”

Experts in any field will encounter the same type of rhetoric, but the wisest among them accept that perfection is unrealistic and feel no shame in mistakes because they are part of learning. Whatever goals we seek should be intended to last. But even the value of wisdom is temporary and disappears the moment we stop searching for it.

Your questions do not need to revolve around only the tough moments. In fact, asking them before the situation arises helps to build a framework of knowledge to assist you in future challenges. Let’s say you typically go to the grocery store on Wednesday evenings, next time ask yourself why your child doesn’t go with you. Is it pure logistics or is it that he’ll misbehave making the task more difficult for you? Maybe there is a way that you can involve him in a shorter errand at another time.

I see it in my neighborhood all the time, good dads spend hours on weekends doing yardwork or washing the car. Some of them are well aware that they choose to do it alone as an escape from a week of hard work. Some would like to involve the child, but it is just quicker and easier to knock out the chore alone. Others never give it a second thought, because no way in hell are they letting their child scratch the paint on the car. To be honest, these may all be valid rationales for working alone, but a good parent stops to think about why they make these decisions.

There’s another philosophical idea, that true wisdom lies in knowing when a rule doesn’t apply and what is normally good advice should not be followed. This type of cognitive flexibility can help us to give ourselves a break every now and then. For parents, the pivot point should always fall within the limits of your resources. Sure, it sounds great to share an hour at the grocery store with your four year old, but you’ve done it before, you’re tired and this time you want to wander the aisles alone. Great! Do that and don’t be ashamed of it. If you have considered the options and are comfortable with the logic of your decision, even if it turns out to be a mistake, you have not given up on the search. As far as I am concerned, that makes you a good parent.