Rights of a Child: Love (Part 2)
Yesterday I talked about different types of love and about confronting my own children and Sunday School class about my feelings towards them. In all cases, they knew without doubt that I loved them. Not just my own children, but the kids I teach.
I believe Love is the foundation of being a parent. Yet we have bad examples around us in society beating upon us and especially our kids, which erode the meaning of ‘I love you’ to something said in passing…if anything at all. “I love ya.”
Carley can laugh in such a unique way, which brings anyone who hears her to giggling tears as well!
No.
I tell my children “I love you.”
If they say they love me, I reply with “I love you back.”
Try saying that specifically to your child and see if you feel a difference in your own heart.
I believe loving a child should be principle based, not personality based. It still has emotion attached TO it, but it’s not based UPON it. I love my child for the simple reason that he/she exists, regardless of a tantrum, a bad choice or a mistake. I love them because they are unique, because they are an unknown potential and because in each of them is an unlimited line of more unique beings (a line of posterity), that without this one child…will never exist.
That’s what I see in my child: an endless line of life and brilliance. I also find myself feeling love for other children (and adults for that matter) for the same reasons.
There are times when youth come to me when they will no longer talk with their parents. I’m talking about college students and married couples who come visit with me. Why? They tell me it’s because of our history. Because my love is not dependent on their actions and we have an established relationship of honesty with one another that they need not fear. Because I don’t base my love on emotions, the challenge at hand doesn’t sway my council or my desire to care for them. It has provided opportunities to instruct children when they might not listen to their own parents, and in many instances, giving me the opportunity to point out and validate a parents decision.
Children are anything but stupid. A child will feel this principle based love to the bone, which presents and reinforces itself through rough experiences, trials and challenges, long after the emotion of a hug or a kiss has worn off.
Principle based love is what you can count on.
Rights of a Child: Love
The basic foundation principle of a parent, at least in my own mind, should be love.
Now love is actually a big subject, especially when the world has distorted, misused, chopped up, mutilated and all but destroyed the definition of the word. From a loving mother, holding her new child in her arms after birth, whispering it for the first time….to the perversions of what Hollywood would have you believe, “Love” is defined as many things.
We have tough love, unconditional love, paternal love, brotherly love, the love between a husband and wife, even a ‘love of violence’. So where do we place ourselves as parents when it comes to love in conjunction with out little ones?
I have spent some time reading, talking with my children and even heard a great sermon in church Sunday ON Love, and it deserves to be looked at closely.
My sweet little daughter: Leilani Alyse Uapafutiolevaaoalii Buckley
In wondering how my children felt, I set my yellow pad down and called out to a few of my older children, Cesilea (18), Leilani (15) and Jessica (14). I asked them if they knew mom and I loved them. They just chuckled and said “Of course!” But when I asked them how, they looked puzzled. They couldn’t clarify at first. Nothing came to any of them, until Ditto (Cesilea) jabbed Leilani in the shoulder and laughed: “I know you love Lei, because you didn’t send her back for a working model!”.
It took them some time, but they finally told me they knew they were loved because of a structure we had in our home. When they thought about it, every action and decision Kathi and I made concerning them was engineered for their development. For their progression and their good. Ditto added that the pattern was there, even when they didn’t see it at first.
There were times when my children interacted with their friends, and they would witness conduct from their friends towards their parents, especially the mothers which would make them cringe. It was completely unacceptable behavior and they would come home, embarrassed for themselves…and their friends. “Why would they do that (or say that) to their own mother?” they would ask. Oh, my kids have struggles like any other youth, and they have good days and bad days. My goal is just to help them have far more of the good days.
I took the question next to my Sunday School class. I’m a strict adult, very abrupt, but for some strange reason, the kids want me back every year. That’s gone on for nearly 15 years now.
Standing before 14 twelve year olds (mostly girls), I snapped “Do I hate you guys?”
The room burst into giggles and an occasional laugh. “No.” they replied.
“But I yell at you often!” I bellowed.
One young lady smiled back. “But you love love us anyway.”
I smiled back. They were right. I loved each of them and prided myself on having the brightest kids in Church. Hmmm. I don’t hug them. I don’t change their diapers or feed them. In fact, I tell them stories and frequently call them ‘little craps’ when they act badly. Yet they come back, week after week, parents thank me and say their child has never loved church so much as in that class.
So what kind of love produces that type of result? Is it the same type of love my own children experience in our family?
Read MoreRights of a Child: The Child Itself
The state of the world disturbs me. It becomes almost unbearable to listen to the current news, to read the newspapers and listen to the lives taken, the violence, the atrocities against children in every part of the world…especially in our own backyard. As a father of 10+1 and a brother of 18, the thought of a person harming a child turns my stomach.
Its been burning in my mind and I want to share my own opinion with you in the hopes that you’ll share your views with me. To share with those out there looking for the strength to stand up for their own beliefs, hopefully raising the bar of parenthood. I know it’s a lofty goal, but it’s worth the fight.
It all started as a conversation with Kathi (my sweet wife) as we drove in the car, talking about this blog and how I wanted to share hope through Wanted Hero (my comics and novels). We talked about the Rights of Children and how we as adults have a distorted perspective at times when it comes to what our children actually have rights to, or miss what we should be addressing altogether.
My baby girl Carley Rosina, named after my mom.
First off, shouldn’t we look at the child in and of itself? When a child is brought into this world, it (he/she) comes with a set of obligations on our part. It comes with the child’s creation, because its something WE did. We CHOSE to use our bodies in such a way to create another. Make excuses if you think it’ll help, but once you engage with the opposite sex, you are electing to start a process which creates a drive to make a child. You are responsible.
Now consider that child. It is the weakest creature born on planet Earth in the animal kingdom. When they are born they require immediate and constant care, being completely dependent upon others (it’s parents) for its survival. It cannot walk, communicate or feed itself. You called. It came. Now what?
Too many parents or those contemplating parenthood consider this a ‘pastime’ rather than a life mission. Unfortunately I had many friends who’s parents didn’t show more than mild acknowledgment towards them, and they spent most of their time at my own home. In many instances it was the pursuit of worldly goods, rather than family excellence. Not the required day-to-day needs, but the pursuit of toys, fine clothes and status symbols of various types.
My little buddy, Simon Paul (age 3).
It’s not good enough to simply bring a child into existence, providing nothing more than sustenance and leaving it to its own design. It is your responsibility to provide a foundation for your child to grow and become a productive member of society with the skill set to provide for it’s own comfort and the ability to improve upon all it has and has become.
Namely Love, Security & Education.
Read MoreTeach them when they’re young.
Last night I had a parents dream and nightmare mixed together. A young man knew my oldest daughter turned 18 last Sunday and he came to our home and asked to court her.
You say: The guy actually asked your permission?
Yup.
You say: Did my daughter know it happened?
Yup. She was sitting there with me, the young man and her mother. I asked him some questions, his intent, and when I got bored, stood up and got something to eat from the kitchen–shouting back “Keep going, I’m listening.”
Now call me old fashioned, weird, a tyrant, it doesn’t matter–because I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks of my choices when it comes to parenting. I will gladly accept support, but not interested in the least when it comes to criticism of the principles I live by. I love my kids. Enough to set bounds, to set rules and to teach them values that will enable them to look back on their lives WITHOUT REGRET.
If I feel it’s getting difficult to be a parent, all I have to do is look at the examples around me. It makes me shutter, slap myself across the face and get my parental priorities straight…especially when a hefty majority of our youth (not even old enough to drive) are off doing who-knows-what, making MANY of them into instant parents! Yeah, they’re ready for that one!
Here’s the clincher for you parents: My daughter sat there in full confidence, appreciation and gratitude, willing to follow my decision with full purpose of heart. Why would that be? She’s not afraid of me. Kathi and I have taught her to think for herself and can hold her own in any debate I’ve engaged in, or listened to.
There are many men who have wanted to get to know my daughter. At the same time, my children are not raised in an environment where prowling predators who cant keep their peters in their pants can get to them. We have a structured household, with strict rules that promote freedom. True freedom. Not chaos. Not promiscuity. Not abuse. Not disrespect. So my daughter knew what i expected of her, and what I will demand of anyone who desires to get close to this family.
This young man knew my rules. He knew I would not bend and you know what? I watched this young man in many situations for the past 3-4 YEARS. There was something about him that I liked, because he was NOT part of my family, but he had similar traits, adhered to most of the same rules, and I got to know his father, his mother, his siblings…all in regular, everyday situations over time, so I had information.
I had a talk with my daughter in private, because her word was the final decision. Though I love her and taught her my will and backed it with the why’s, she’s old enough to take responsibility for herself. Her feelings and desires mean a great deal to me. All I can do is guide at this point.
This was important to her. I felt the same. So did her mother.
My oldest is courting. With my blessing and support.
She has always known what has been expected of her and we have always held her accountable.
How do you interact with your child?
Read MoreHow I Dealt With Pain (My Mom Died–Part 4)
I’ve received a lot of feedback in emails since my last few posts. BTW, if you wouldn’t mind posting your thoughts here, so they can be shared with others, I think we would all appreciate it. It makes it easier for me to talk to everyone at once, rather than replying to emails, though I understand if the feelings are private or tender.
The repeated question is how I’m doing now, and how did I deal with the pain after my mom died. One friend said she hasn’t cried yet as much as she feels she should after her mom died from cancer. That specifically got me thinking about the week I ran off with my Uncle Bob.
Uncle Bob is my mom’s personality (all the good stuff) in a huge military worn body, with a sprinkle of crazy and a hefty dose of fantastic laughter. I love that man dearly. Spend 3-4 days a week with him, and when my mom died, the two of us didn’t shed a tear. We did all we could to be the anchors for the family, to help others work it out, to be strength to Kathilynn and the kids, but never asking anything of anyone else.
Under the stress, nearly a year later, I started having heart and chest problems. I got dizzy…and my temper was like napalm. However, anything about my mother as a subject caused me to instantly bottle up. Bob was the same way. Well my friends noticed, and they got worried. So the guys from church all chipped in and bought two trips out to Wendover Nevada, for a Lobster dinner and a night out of town.
The night we left, Kathi pulled Uncle Bob aside and made him promise to watch over me. To give me room, but not let me end up in jail. Everything else she knew I was capable of doing was ok by her–just let me do it. He agreed. We didn’t say a word all the way to the casino, and then found the restaurant. The meal was incredible, and as we filled our bellies, we started to talk about mom. The good times, the bad times, things that annoyed us about her, things she was frustrated with us about. This went on through the night.
During the meal, I vented and just let the tears flow. No one here knew me and I’ve likely never see anyone here again anyway, so I balled. I swore. I cursed the Universe for taking my mom and even cursed my mom for falling asleep at the wheel. The little Mexican waitresses came and asked what was wrong and Uncle Bob told them in Spanish a condensed version. I don’t know what he said, but several of the women came out and tenderly hugged me and gave their condolences, the manager looking on. When he heard about our conversation in the booth, he came to our table and offered to let us stay all night, and kept the kitchen open for us an additional 3 hours after they cleaned up after everyone else.
Trust me, there are those who understand the importance of grieving. That night I smoked for the first time in almost 16 years. I also drank until I couldn’t see straight and cried about my mom even more, all the way home on the bus while Uncle Bob took me under wing and delivered me safe to Kathilynn once more.
There was a life turning event for me, and it was the true beginning of my healing process, and the healing for Uncle Bob. We never regretted that night, and I came home to a loving family who allowed me to vent in the only way I knew how, away from those I would have offended, and it worked.
Read MoreA Father of 10 (+1)
I’m sitting here at the Riverton Library in Utah and watching an adorable brother and sister (not more than 3 years old), sheepishly follow behind their mother. The little boy saw a colorful book on one of the lower display cases and reached out to touch it…bringing down the entire display, crashing to the floor. The look on his face was one of shame. His mother looked at him sharply and his tiny little shoulder rounded as he squeaked “I sorry.”
The woman behind the help desk casually walked over, knelt down with a huge smile on her face and whispered ‘Looks like it crashed, huh. Well, that’s ok, it was time to change the books anyway, you go with your mom.” The librarian was greeted with appreciation from both the mother and the little boy, who had the huge world of wrecking a display taken from off his bitty shoulders.
That librarian has class.
The whole scene got me thinking about being a dad. Being married to the absolute love of my life, and having the goal of a dozen children. Kathi says she wants 13 now, but we’re currently debating on that. Now, I’m a religious minded person. I link everything back to God, but I don’t want to preach on this subject. Instead, I wanted to simply share my thoughts on being a father, and especially a father of 10 (with one on the way). It has given me some serious experiences (which never seem to end), and have forced me to look at life from perspectives I would never have considered otherwise.
First off, there’s nothing better in my mind, than being a father. I was fortunate enough to have my best friends born to me as my own children. We have seven girls and three boys. When I meet someone and they find out I have ten children, they gasp and ask ‘how many of each?’ I sometimes remark, “Oh, they’re all human.” or “We have all boys but seven.”
No, I don’t have anything against my beautiful girls. Not many men get kissed by eight girls twice a day, every day. They find me during my morning ritual of rushing, or scream when I’m almost at the door. If I’m unfortunate enough to get out of the house and forgotten anyone, I’m sure to hear it when I get home, or from a disturbing phone call as soon as I reach the office. However, the boys are easier. Yeah, Simon, my 3 year old son wants a kiss form dad, or he demands a phone call from me later to reassure him he was not forgotten…but other than that, my sons are joyful chaos.
Just what a rough dad needs.
One of the aspects of parenthood that some don’t understand, is that each child is unique and brings a separate joy to my life that cannot be duplicated. I cried and embraced my father and father-in-law when Ditto (Cesilea) was born. Yet you would have thought a male child had never existed when Evan was born, the way I ran around the hospital, screaming triumph. Evan is the second child, just turned 16 and weighs in at 240lbs of muscle.
Did I mention my wife is Samoan? Yeah, I have incredible looking kids, with the OOOMPH to back it up.
Kathi and I pondered over the children late last night, and sometimes I think my life would simply crumble if I didn’t have all of them. With all the diapers, screaming, arguing and rebellion comes the laughter, love, kindness and triumph of a lesson learned when the day is done. I wouldn’t trade that for anything in this wide world.
…unless they were REALLY bad….
BTW, if you’re looking for some fun father/parent blogs, check out some of my favorites, such as the Good Father Blog, and Father of the Blog.
Read MoreMy Latest Book
