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When Children Are Our Idols

 

I think that we can love our children too much. Well, actually that’s not true; we can never love too much but we can have a counterfeit love for our children that is more akin to worship. Our whole life is for them. We say things like, “Mommy will do anything for you baby.” Will we really? I hope not. “You are my sun, my heart, the centre of my world.” I really wonder if we understand the ramifications of statements like that? It sounds great; like something a dedicated, loving parent would say but is it really?

According to a Time article by Jennifer Moses, “The problem with all this, aside from how silly it is, is that children who are the center of their parents’ lives become brats. Children whose parents put their kids’ entertainment, social lives, futures, and schedules ahead of their own well-being soon learn that there is only one important person in the room, and that person is the person whose short life has already been captured on endless video clips. This is not good. This is not good at all. Not for the kid. Not for the grownup. Not for the family dog.”

Children who are worshipped, grow up believing they are gods and believe that everyone will bend to their will as their parents have for their entire short lives. These ‘helicopter parents’ swoop in to clean up every mess and comfort every discomfort, robbing their charges of the necessary coping skills and character development that can only come from unmet expectations, disappointments, failures and the sometimes unfair hard-knocks of life. These poor children often suffer from depression and maladjustment as they encounter the real world outside their little personal kingdom.

Many of these parents may actually have co-dependent relationships with their kids; dependent on them for affirmation and love. According to Psychology Today, here are 5 signs that you are in a co-dependent relationship (To look at this from a parental point of view I substituted ‘partner’ with ‘child’):

  1. Does your sense of purpose involve making extreme sacrifices to satisfy your child’s needs?
  2. Is it difficult to say no when your child makes demands on your time and energy?
  3. Do you cover your child’s problems with drugs, alcohol, or the law?
  4. Do you constantly worry about their opinion of you?
  5. Do you keep quiet to avoid arguments?

I find this list a bit scary because it is so close to our accepted paradigm of good parenting today. The thing about co-dependency is that (i) it prevents you from taking actions in the best interest of the child, and (ii) it is often a behaviour that the child repeats in his/her relationships. It is a very unhealthy behaviour that is not easily changed.

However, there is hope. The first step is awareness. Here are some habits that will keep us from co-dependent tendencies:

  1. Set clear boundaries on our time. For example, Sunday is my rest/fun day. I will not be taking you to any regular activity on a Sunday.
  2. Set clear boundaries on what we will and will not do for our children. I will not do your school project for you. I may guide and assist but you are responsible for it, not me. I will not write an excuse for you for not completing your homework unless there was a serious emergency that prevented you from completing your assignment.
  3. Intentionally give them more and more responsibility and autonomy as they get older. For example, as my daughter graduates to secondary school she will be ironing her own school uniform from now on. She is also allowed to be on social media now.
  4. Intentionally nurture interests and hobbies other than our children. For example, no matter how much my children may believe that I am not entitled to go out or play football or take trips (or do anything really) without them, I go anyway.

Our children deserve every opportunity to grow and mature into strong, balanced and healthy adults. Let’s not fail them by loving them to pieces but instead let’s love them to wholeness.

Joyfully.

Copyright 2018, Matik Nicholls. All rights reserved.

Granny

Today is granny’s birthday. She is gone now. None of my grandparents are alive. Granny is the only one I miss though. I often ponder why that is. She was not the one who did the most things for me. That would be grampa. He bought me my first bicycle. He made sure I got braces. He took me to get my driver’s permit. He took me for my first hot dog and milkshake and taught me to swim in Macqueripe.

My cousins and I all fight over who was granny’s favourite. It’s really no contest though; I am the eldest and clearly her favourite long before the rest arrived. 🙂 I was her tomato. But it goes to show how she made each of us feel special. We all knew that granny loved us personally. Not a generic, ‘I love my grandchildren’, kinda love but a personal appreciation and care for each individual.

No matter what, I knew that granny believed in me. It was the little things she would say, “Matik I always admired how you handled your divorce. Things didn’t work out but you made sure that XXX was well taken care of.” Or, “Mats you have a good heart and the Lord knows that.” Or if she knew I was going through a rough patch, “You gotta roll with the punches Mats.”

She worried about every one of her grandchildren and wanted to know the details of everything that was going on in our lives. I remember when I started going out at night as a teenager, no matter what time I got home, granny was up at the dining room table reading until she was sure that I had made it home safely.

Granny was special. In the weeks before she passed away, I went to visit her and some of her last words to me were, “Thank you Matik.”

“For what granny?”

“For being you.”

Thank you for being you, granny. You are my hero. I miss you but I know that you are still in my corner.

PS: I know you love flowers. These are for you.

Joyful tears,

Copyright 2018, Matik Nicholls. All rights reserved.

Parenting Is Hard

Parenting is hard enough but single co-parenting (a term I just invented to mean when you are not in a relationship with the other parent) is ten times as hard. As I came down from the euphoria of vacation and the cold water of reality splashed my face, this was one of the harsh realities of my life that met me at the door.

“Daddy, you don’t spend any time with us,” was the latest issue. It was not something that I hadn’t heard before, but the complaint seemed to be getting louder. It’s an issue that I find particularly frustrating because their point of view and mine are so far apart. They take for granted the fact that I changed by working hours and hardly ever work late just so that I can drop them to school in the morning and see them in the evening. They don’t know how much of a social life I forego just to be present in their lives. They have no clue and they probably never will until they have children of their own.

What exacerbates the issue is that their reference point is their mother who is a stay at home mom. She has the advantage of being at their beck and call 24-7 if she chooses. In a ‘normal’ family where the mother is at home, I guess she would help the children to understand that daddy has to work etc. I unfortunately, have to deal with the opposite dynamic.

Thus, when I sat down to have a heart to heart with my kids I tried to discern not only what they were saying but how they really felt. It was clear that they did not feel unloved or neglected but they did want more meaningful time with me doing things that they like. I realized that with my daughter’s preparation for the big SEA exams and their extra-curricular schedule, most of our time was spent being busy. Busy getting ready for school, busy getting ready for bed, busy getting ready for lessons, busy getting to football training, busy, busy, busy…

So, despite how skewed their viewpoint might be, there was inside there some truth that I could not ignore. I weighed my options.  What more I could do to be a better dad? I weighed the wants versus the needs. Children always want. A significant challenge is always to give them what they need not necessarily what they want. What could I do that would answer the need in their lives? What was I willing to give up? That question brought me right up against another significant challenge; finding the balance between sacrificing for your children without sacrificing your health.

In the end, I gave up one football sweat a month and my Saturday morning run would be reduced to every other week. In exchange I would have some more unhurried time with my children. I’m not expecting huge outpourings of gratitude and that doesn’t matter to me. My fulfilment is in their success as Godly, loving, happy, contributing human beings. In their eyes, compared to their mother, I might still be the second-rate parent, but I believe their hearts know better. I can feel it in their hugs.

Parenting is hard but anything worthwhile is hard.

Joyfully,

Copyright 2018, Matik Nicholls. All rights reserved.

My Goal Is To Be Mediocre

It doesn’t sound inspiring, but it’s true. I’m not sure when this became a goal but it solidified in my psyche early in my professional career as I became more and more successful as a manager. I observed the men who were outstanding in their field or CEOs of large companies and I noticed that many of them were not spending much time with their families. They seemed to have traded the role of father for the role of Fairy Godfather. Even if they were present in body, they were not present in mind. They were also very one-dimensional. Their work consumed them.

I grew a strong dislike for this kind of persona and determined that if that is what it took to be successful, then I was not going to be successful. On the other hand, I had standards of excellence that I did aspire to in my career and I wanted a life full of interests and passions and learning, so I couldn’t be father of the year either. And so my life philosophy took shape, I was going to be mediocre at a variety of things.

I was going to be a great dad but my children would not be the centre of my life. I was going to be a good surfer but not good enough to win any competitions. I was going to be an avid football player but not club material if you know what I mean. I was going to be an excellent manager but not the super ambitious guy who is always looking for the next rung to climb. I was going to be a continuous learner but I didn’t see a Ph.D. in my future.

I often wonder though, if it’s still possible to be great at something without sacrificing the rest… I know, I know, I’ve always wanted to have my cake and eat it too. But I do think it could be possible. People like Richard Branson give me hope. He often blogs about family (both his biological and his Virgin family). Many people blog insincerely about family with their posed photos but for some reason I believe Branson when he says, “Without the love and support of my wife, children, children-in-law and grandchildren I wouldn’t have the drive to keep achieving. And without the love and support of the Virgin family, achieving things wouldn’t be so meaningful or fun.”

But on the other hand, I wonder if the sacrifice is worth it if the cause is big enough? If a researcher spends her life in a lab and cures cancer at the expense of a relationship with her husband and kids, is it worth it? I wonder what the children of great world changers like Nelson Mandela and Marie Curie thought about them as parents? Maybe they understood what their parents were trying to achieve and were proud. I don’t know and I can’t judge for others, but for me, I’m committed to my mediocrity :).

Ultimately, I want a life of great service to God and men. Maybe I will only be of great service to a few people and little service to many people. I don’t know but being of service is perhaps the only true greatness and the only standard that does motivate me greatly. I look at my life, and to the extent that it is selfishly about my happiness, I am dissatisfied. Sometimes deeply dissatisfied. So I strive on to achieve greatness…. and joy (I still want to have my cake and eat it too); the joy of service in my own mediocre way!

Joyfully,

Copyright 2018, Matik Nicholls

The Marshmallow Test Started In Trinidad?

Eager to get going on my goal to be more disciplined in 2018, today I started a new audiobook; The Marshmallow Test: Mastering Self-Control by Walter Mischel. I was completely taken by surprise by what I heard in chapter 6… Let me say upfront that I was in two minds about sharing this given the sometimes volatile racial tension in Trinidad but in the end the opportunity for learning from the objective scientific insights of a foreigner far outweighed the risks. Here are excerpts of what Walter Mischel had to say:

“The marshmallow experiment allowed us to see how children managed to delay and resist temptation, and how differences in this ability play out over a lifetime. But what about the choice itself? I started to ask that question while I was a graduate student at Ohio State University, well before I joined the Stanford faculty. I spent one summer living near a small village in the southern tip of Trinidad.

The inhabitants in this part of the island were of either African or East Indian descent, their ancestors having arrived as either slaves or indentured servants. Each group lived peacefully in its own enclave, on different sides of the same long dirt road that divided their homes.… I discovered a recurrent theme in how they characterized each other. According to the East Indians, the Africans were just pleasure-bent, impulsive, and eager to have a good time and live in the moment, while never planning or thinking ahead about the future. The Africans saw their East Indian neighbors as always working and slaving for the future, stuffing their money under the mattress without ever enjoying life”

“To check if the perceptions about the differences between the ethnic groups were accurate, I walked down the long dirt road to the local school, which was attended by children from both groups.” “I tested boys and girls between the ages of 11 and 14. I asked the children who lived in their home, gauged their trust that promises made would be promises kept, and assessed their achievement motivation, social responsibility, and intelligence. At the end of each of these sessions, I gave them choices between little treats: either one tiny chocolate that they could have immediately or a much bigger one that they could get the following week”

“The young adolescents in Trinidad who most frequently chose the immediate smaller rewards, in contrast to those who chose the delayed larger ones, were more often in trouble and, in the language of the time, judged to be “juvenile delinquents.” Consistently, they were seen as less socially responsible, and they had often already had serious issues with authorities and the police. They also scored much lower on a standard test of achievement motivation and showed less ambition in the goals they had for themselves for the future.

Consistent with the stereotypes I heard from their parents, the African Trinidadian kids generally preferred the immediate rewards, and those from East Indian families chose the delayed ones much more often. But surely there was more to the story. Perhaps those who came from homes with absent fathers—a common occurrence at that time in the African families in Trinidad, while very rare for the East Indians—had fewer experiences with men who kept their promises. If so, they would have less trust that the stranger—me—would ever really show up later with the promised delayed reward. There’s no good reason for anyone to forgo the “now” unless there is trust that the “later” will materialize. In fact, when I compared the two ethnic groups by looking only at children who had a man living in the household, the differences between the groups disappeared.”

Given that this was around 1956, can you imagine the cycle of absentee fathers and instant gratification that has led over 60 years later to the current social crisis in Trinidad & Tobago!?! Myers goes on to talk about experiments in Boston that showed that 12 years olds with less ability to delay gratification were far more likely to cheat to get something that they want. The correlation to our current crime culture is clear. Why work to get anything? There is no trust that society will give me any rewards for hard work and why wait anyway when I can rob somebody (equally applied to a petty thief or corrupt government official) and get what I want now?!

For me this was a poignant pointer to the root of the problem. We can continue to rail against the failed political leaders/parties or police service from now until whenever but until and unless we face the failed leadership in our homes and our communities and our churches/mosques/temples, we will be hacking away at the branches leaving the roots of crime untouched.

In 2018 let’s point the finger at ourselves and make a commitment to make a difference. As a predominantly African male with three children, I’m starting with me.

Joyfully,

Copyright 2018, Matik Nicholls.

‘Tis The Season

‘Tis the season to lime (Trini-speak for hang-out or get together). I’m tired just looking at my calendar and it’s not even December yet. Liming is synonymous with Christmas in Trinidad.

There are work limes and church dinners and several get-togethers at friends’ houses and of course family luncheons. But that’s just the start because if you have kids then there are also school concerts and end-of-year award ceremonies and music/dance class recitals and so on and so forth.

It’s just too much…for me anyway. I am already struggling to get more than six hours sleep a night and keep my exercise regime going (not to mention the implications for my eating habits).

So, what’s the solution to this dilemma? Well…it’s the perfect opportunity to practice Stephen Covey’s 3rd habit; Putting First Things First. According to Dr. Covey, activities fall into four quadrants:

  1. Important but not urgent
  2. Urgent but not important
  3. Important and urgent
  4. Neither important nor urgent

So where do all of these social events fall? They certainly aren’t urgent. But how important are they and how important is what I would give up to attend them? There is always a trade off. Saying yes to one thing means saying no to another. What is important to me is based on my goals that I have set for myself and I find that at times like these it is good to remind myself of my goals for the year. What did I want to accomplish? Which relationships did I want to focus on?

There are some times, like this evening, when riding  bicycles around the block with my kids and tucking them into bed early is the most important thing. There will be other times when reconnecting with family and old friends can be prioritized. Whatever the case, saying no to something good will be an essential skill for this season. Because no to something good is really yes to something better.

Keep your head on this season. By all means enjoy the time of good cheer with family and friends. Just be wise and prioritize.

Joyfully,

Copyright 2017, Matik Nicholls

I’m Having A Bad Day

Yesterday was one of those days. I did not want to get out of bed. I was falling behind on initiatives towards personal goals I had set for myself. My boss was not too happy with me after I had shared some bad news on a project that he was not expecting. My youngest son was upset that I had taken away his phone and my daughter was crashing under a mountain of lessons and homework. And there were several other conflicts and dramas that is inherent with my complexed family situation. Waking up to face the day seemed daunting.

I finally dragged myself off the bed and pressed robotically into the routine. Iron. Wake up children. Bathe. Shave. Brush teeth. Dress. What does this have to do with authentic joy you may ask? Well it definitely has a lot to do with authenticity. This is the reality of some of my days. Sometimes it’s tough! Sometimes it seems like everybody and everything is pulling on me, depending on me, draining my energy. Have you ever felt like that?

As for joy, well I like to think of joy as something deeper than mere happiness. Happiness is a mood; an emotion. As a preacher once said, happiness is based on what’s happening. Sometimes we will be happy. Sometimes sad. Sometimes frustrated. Sometimes angry. But beneath all of that is our raison d’être; the most important reason for our existence. Joy is not in our moods and circumstances but in the fulfilment of a purposeful life.

Days like these when I can’t self-motivate is when my support systems kick in (hopefully). Yesterday my bff lovingly reminded me of my raison d’être. I reached out to another friend and he Whatsapped me some encouragement.  Even the Facebook newsfeeds and emails we receive on a daily basis can be sources of encouragement if we intentionally set it up that way. You can choose what messages pass through the filters to fill your soul. Sometimes we need a reminder of who we are and why we’re here. A reminder that this too shall pass. That something good is coming out of all of this. Something to talk us down from jumping off the bridge into the river of despair. Honestly there have been some days when even the support systems failed, and my children were probably the only thing that stopped me from quitting my job and disappearing into obscurity somewhere.

For some reason life does not give you a time out. I still had to go to work and muster up the strength to approach the boss constructively. I still had to deal with the children patiently and lovingly support them in their crises. I had to dig deep inside but when I did I found that there was strength there. Beyond the religious ‘too blessed to be stressed’ hype, deep inside my soul was a quiet resource. A calm assurance as old and resilient as the mountains.

I went there and I found joy.

Copyright 2017, Matik Nicholls

No Regrets?

So, I’m trying my hand at writing a book. The story draws heavily from my life experiences, forcing me to think a lot about my past. This week my mind was on my separation from my first wife. Particularly, the day that I came to visit my son after having moved out a few days before. He was a year and a half old and it was the first time that I ever saw him looking sad.

His mom explained that he had gone from room to room repeating, “Where you daddy? Where you daddy?”. The image broke my heart in a million pieces. He is sixteen years old now and a lump still forms in my throat every time I think about it. How could I have done that to that little boy? In those dark days, my only tearful prayers were, “Lord, pleeeaase let him know how much I love him.”

I have often heard people say that they have no regrets. I’ve always wondered what they mean because I definitely have regrets. I regret what my son had to go through. If I had a do-over I probably would have made the same decision from that point but there are many earlier things that I would have done differently if I knew then what I know now (getting married at twenty-three for starters). But the thing is, I can’t change the past so what can I do?

I don’t know where I heard it, but someone once said that your approach to the past should be like driving a car. You need to look in your rear-view mirror (the past) regularly. It helps you to learn from mistakes, to get perspective, to notice trends in your behaviour but you can’t drive with your eyes glued to the rear-view mirror. The much bigger focus is the view of the present and the future through the windscreen in front of you.

If I had let my mistakes dominate my thoughts (kept my eyes glued to the rear-view mirror) I would certainly have sunk into depression (crashed). But the thing is, had I done that, I would have missed the thousands of happy memories I created with my son since then. Moments like this one:

The car of life doesn’t stop moving, and if you are not looking at where you are going then you will crash. If I kept my eyes on the past, I would have lost every opportunity to create a successful future.

To successfully navigate life, you have to respond to things as they come at you; change direction, change gears, mash brakes, accelerate. The past quickly becomes irrelevant except as a learning opportunity. The same is true of past successes by the way. Many times, we can be crashing even as our eyes are glued to the glory days that once were.

For me that image of my son searching for his daddy still weighs heavy but when self-condemnation tries to take root I wrest my eyes off the past and look up. I remind myself that where there is Life, there is hope and that while I’m looking back, opportunities to create a different past are slipping by every second.

I don’t know if there is anybody else with regrets like me but if there are people out there who have made mistakes I want to encourage you not to focus on that rear-view mirror too much. Look up, there just might be joy up ahead.

Joyfully,

Copyright 2017, Matik Nicholls

From Basingstoke WIth Love

As I sat down with mummy on the eight-hour flight heading back to Trinidad, I was reflecting on our time spent with dear friends in Basingstoke, U.K. It was the kind of trip that is best described in photographs and poetry:

When venturing to new places afar,

Especially on a mission with your mama,

You imagine the adventures that await.

But when your eye beholds the place,

And feet step to undiscovered space,

Only then the fullness breaks on open hearts.

The windows that open unto apple trees in the orchard,

And the windows that open unto mango trees in the yard,

Let in the same light that refreshes thirsty souls.

The moor hen moans by the lake.

The kiskidee call; as its namesake.

Both sing the same hymn of praise.

“Which way do you think we go now mummy?”

People bustled by as she studied the map intently.

“South to Waterloo!” brought a victorious smile on both faces.

Port and tea around a crackling fireplace at night.

Ox cheeks, grouse, hash and cod set tummies right,

And stories, jokes, open hearts and twinkling eyes shone through.

Bubbling brooks, dandelions, oaks and deer.

Enid Blyton’s storybook scenes all there.

Somehow carried a familiar tune far away from home.

But it was the same mischievous smiling eyes and dreams and plans,

And the common humanity; Clarke-Samlal, Philip-Nicholls clans,

That pealed like church bells over the meadows of Basingstoke with love.

Copyright 2017, Matik Nicholls