Parenting | Being Happy, Anyway, With Glenn

My Son and the Light Bulb (It’s OK to Say No)

Glenn Heap — Mon, 09 Nov 2020 06:21:08 +0000

One evening I was caring for my 18-month-old son after I had put his older sisters to bed. My wife was at an evening class at Cal State LA. I carried my son into the garage to get something. The lightbulb in our garage door opener had burned out. As I reached up and unscrewed it my son saw the cylindrical, shiny light bulb and excitedly said, “Ball!”
I corrected him, “It’s NOT a ball, it’s a lightbulb. You can’t play with it!” He was having nothing of that. I began to search for a new light bulb in the cabinet drawers but had no luck. I set my son down on the concrete floor of the garage so that I could find a light bulb. He continued to cry for the “ball.” I was having trouble finding the new lightbulb and my son was starting to bother me. I decided to just hand him the lightbulb. No sooner had I done that, he threw the lightbulb on the concrete expecting it to bounce. It shattered into fragmented pieces. My son then picked up a little piece of glass and cut his hand. I felt like such a fool. It was my responsibility to say “no” and to stay firm because I knew the dangers invoked that an 18 month old didn’t.

I would rather that he had been a little angry at me instead of cutting his hand in my care.
After cleaning him up, comforting him and putting the new lightbulb in the garage I had some time to think.
Good parenting involves setting limits. Sometimes we know more than our children do. They don’t always fully understand the risks involved with some of the activities they want to engage in. In this case my son mistakenly believe that the light bulb, since it was a sphere, would bounce like a ball. He thought I was being mean by not letting him play with it in the way he thought it would function. One option would’ve been to say no to the light bulb but to get him a ball from the closet. Maybe I could have thrown the light bulb (or let him throw it) into a trash can. He would’ve seen that it shattered and didn’t bounce.
It’s ok to say no and to divert our children to something that won’t hurt them.

Watch Your Step, Vero

Glenn Heap — Mon, 09 Nov 2020 06:12:03 +0000

When my oldest daughter Veronica was in kindergarten she would take the bus home from school. I would push a double stroller carrying her three-year-old sister and newborn baby brother on a four block walk to the bus stop and back each morning and mid-day. One day at noon as I pushed the stroller on our way to pick up my daughter after school I tripped and almost fell. As I looked back I saw that one piece of sidewalk was significantly higher than the adjacent one. It looked like tree roots had lifted that piece dangerously higher than the other. After we picked up my kindergartener we headed back on that same sidewalk. As we approached the uneven sidewalk I paused and advised Veronica about it. I let her know that I had almost fallen after tripping on it. “Let’s be careful each day as we approach this tree and step carefully so that we don’t fall.” She listened and was in agreement.

On occasion I have heard parents tell me that they feel that they cannot warn their children about certain dangerous or otherwise unhealthy behaviors because they themselves, when younger, participated in them. Many of them have regrets because of decisions that they made. Some have told me that they feel hypocritical advising their child against doing something that they themselves did.
If I had tripped and fallen on the uneven sidewalk, should I have felt it was hypocritical for me to warn Veronica about the uneven sidewalk? Of course not. I might even share with her the pain I felt due to my fall. While I can’t force my child to be aware of an even sidewalk or of a rather risky or dangerous behavior, I do feel it’s my duty to lovingly and clearly advise them about things that I think are dangerous or unwise for them to participate in.

We can teach others to learn from our mistakes, whether intentional and unintentional.

My Dad and My Marathon

Glenn Heap — Mon, 09 Nov 2020 05:42:18 +0000

We were raised and I still practice the Mormon Faith . My parents taught us to keep the Sabbath Day holy. On Sundays, after three hours of church services, we would have a family dinner, and then would relax at home to get ready for the week. We didn’t participate in recreational, sports or entertainment activities. We avoided even the spending on money on the Sabbath. We didn’t want to cause others to work that day either. My father, in particular, was very strict about this.
When I was 19 years old I signed up to run a marathon in San Francisco on a Sunday. The course was all through Golden Gate Park.
I knew my dad wasn’t pleased when I left early from our suburban home in the East Bay to run that Sunday morning.
Much to my surprise, at about mile seven I saw a man in a suit and tie calling my name and cheering for me. He had left church to watch me run the marathon.
My father had administrative positions in our church and for him to leave them behind and to drive all the way into the city to cheer me on was a big sacrifice for him.
I’m so glad he went.