Raising Children - Part 2

Continued from previous post:

6.) I wasn't afraid to be the Bad Guy, but I never behaved badly.

I know more than one mother who doesn't feel comfortable telling her child to pray or maybe to dress more modestly, thinking that her kid will be "mad" at her if she starts holding him/her to higher standards. I know of a couple of fathers who have turned a blind eye to certain immoral behaviors witnessed in their teenagers, never once speaking out, telling their exasperated wives, "I don't want to judge our kids. It's a tough age and they have to fit in."

The adults I've asked for parenting advice had no qualms about upsetting their children from time to time.

"There were times when I knew that I shouldn't go to this place or go out with that person, but I would ask Ammi anyway, wanting her to be the one to put her foot down…and she always did," remembers my brother. "Kids want their parents to set limits and be authority figures, even if they won't admit it."

"I enjoy my children's company; we laugh together, we read the same books, we even share each other's clothes," chuckles one mother of two teenage daughters who race to give up their seats for her. "But at the end of the day, they know that I am their Mother. I am friendly with them, but they cannot treat me like a girlfriend."

"Weakness in those who are supposed to be in a position of authority only invites contempt," contends a mother of two. "It's important to know who's boss."

One father of four looks back on his youth and laughs appreciatively, "My mother didn't worry about not `rocking the boat' when we were in high school. She was willing to capsize the boat if she found us doing something that wasn't okay with her!"

Other parents impressed upon me the importance of having high expectations of their children. "We have to gently push kids out of their comfort zones," an Afghan father says. "If you expect more, your kids will often pleasantly surprise you, but it's important to communicate those expectations. "

One mother always assumed that her children would eventually begin praying simply because they saw that prayer was a priority for her. When a friend asked her why her ten-year-old daughter didn't join the other girls for prayer, this mom realized that she had never communicated her hopes to her own daughter. "It was only a matter of discussing it!" she exclaims with genuine surprise. "I sat her down for a serious `grown-up' talk. I said, `Honey, you're older now and prayer needs to be a regular part of your routine.' She listened so attentively! When Asr came in, she ran to get her prayer rug and misbaha (prayer beads) and joined me for salaah. She's the one who wakes me for Fajr now. It's almost as if she was just waiting for me to tell her, `This is what I expect of you'."

While these parents were quick to lay down the law with their children, there was one "old world law" that they all shied away from — corporal punishment. "We did not hit our children," they say adamantly.

One grandmother feels very strongly about this issue. "Only uneducated, uncivilized people who are incapable of communication resort to hitting little kids."

"Well, there might be a place for a good old fashioned spanking every now and then," argues a mother of four college students. "When my daughter was four years old, she ran out in public without her underwear on for the umpteenth time. In my opinion, it was too dangerous to let her keep getting away with that kind of behavior, so I finally let her have it. She got the message and never forgot it…and I never had to spank her again."

Physically beating your children for the simplest infractions seemed to be an acceptable mode of discipline a generation or so ago. The parents I spoke with are loath to raise their hands on their kids. "Every time you hit your kids, you have to keep upping the levels," a financial analyst tells me. "I knew of a parent who used to twist her kids' ears. After a while, that had no effect, so she started smacking them on their hands. When the desired behaviors were no longer obtained using that method, she resorted to swatting them on their bottoms and shaking them in frustration. I mean, where does it end?"

I spent a good portion of the afternoon just yesterday baking banana crumb muffins from scratch. I offered one to a son of mine and sent him out on the back deck to enjoy his snack. As I watched in horror from the kitchen window, I saw him breaking off big chunks of the fresh muffins and forcefully slamming them down on to the floorboards outside. I rushed out the door and surveyed the crumbs all over the deck, the same deck I had washed just that morning. "What are you doing?!" I screeched.

He looked up in surprise. "Oh."

"WHAT are you doing?!"

"I'm trying to kill a spider that's bothering me."

I clenched my hands at my side and whispered through gritted teeth, "Son, please walk away from me right now. I'm very upset and I am sure that I will spank you if you are near me and this mess. I need time to cool off, so you better run."

His eyes grew wide and he scampered off.

I'm so grateful that Allah Subhana wa Ta'ala allowed me to restrain myself in that moment of anger. The crumbs were easily swept up, there were still plenty of muffins left, my son learned his lesson about not wasting food, and I was eventually able to laugh at his logic for dealing with arachnids…but only after an hour had passed. Letting out my frustration on him by hitting him might have felt good in that moment, but the resulting misery would have lasted much longer…for both of us.

7.) I always kept them close by.

I wasn't surprised to see that nearly all of the families I spoke with had the mother at home caring for the children, but I was shocked by how many of the families shared the same steadfast rule — "No sleepovers."

"Every night I know which bed my kid is sleeping in," says a homeschooling mom of two and wife of a university professor. "And that bed is one I can check on whenever I want."

"Friends were always welcome to come to our home for sleepovers," reminisces a young woman who grew up with a twin brother. "My mom went all out — popcorn during midnight movies, pancakes for breakfast, privacy for chatting and giggling late into the night. But we could never sleep in anyone else's home unless our parents were there with us."

"I saw too many weird things in other friends' homes when I was younger…and that was just during the daytime," remembers an attorney and father of three. "The first time my best friend saw a dirty magazine was when he spent the night at his neighbor's house. I might have resented their strictness a bit when I was younger, but in my heart I knew that my parents were right to keep us in our clean, safe, and cozy home."

"I never let them go far from me when they were little," explains a mother of two when asked by me how to raise a dutiful son like hers. "My kids could have gone on camping trips and overnight field trips with other parents as chaperones, but unless my husband or I were there, they didn't go. My husband was once willing to consider a prestigious boarding school for one of our `gifted' children, but I said, `No way.' I just couldn't let my family be split in different directions; the time we had with them was already short enough."

"No nannies or daycares for our family," says a grandmother of five. "And don't think that I wasn't tempted! I raised three babies on my own without any help from grandmothers or aunts. A one income family meant that we only took local vacations and drove second-hand cars. We lived in a small home. I went back to work only after the kids were in school, but I was always at home in time to greet them with a smile, a hug, and an after-school snack. Even now, my children tell me that the smell of peanut butter and jelly gives them a feeling of security."

8.) We didn't spoil our kids nor did we praise them too much.

"It's important to me that my kids don't grow up ingrained in this Sibling Society," a college professor and father of three tells me.

When asked the definition of a "sibling society", he explains that it's the environment where grown adults behave and are treated like children. "We've extended adolescence where we excuse bad behavior by saying `Oh, he's just going through that rebellious phase. He's only sixteen; he'll outgrow it.' Outgrow it when? Throughout history, puberty has been considered the onset of adulthood; nowadays we have university graduates who behave like babies — tantrums, irresponsible behavior, no sense of accountability. "

This father celebrates his children's birthdays every year by giving them a new toy…and a new duty. "When my son turns seven, he'll get that monster truck he's been craving, but he'll also get a new responsibility for the year — he has to make sure that all the doors in the house are locked before going to bed."

He and his wife believe that having responsibilities, even small ones, inculcates in children a sense of contribution and chivalry.

I was recently given cause to reflect when a friend of mine politely refused an invitation for her daughter to recite her award-winning poem at a masjid event. "Masha'Allah, she has received a lot attention and praise this past week for that poem," she sighed. "The other day she just happened to be interviewed for a local science program on television too. I just don't think it's beneficial for her nafs (ego) to be in the spotlight too much, so I'm going to have to say `no'."

This mother believes that praise becomes "cheap" when it is given for that which children have no control over; she feels that kids should have to "earn" the praise that comes their way. "What's the point in telling a child who always gets A's, `You're so smart'? Or telling a pretty child, `You're so beautiful'? Telling a child who's struggled through an assignment, `I'm proud of how hard you worked on that difficult worksheet' is so much more meaningful."

One mother who is often asked the secret behind her kids' contentment with life has this theory to offer: "It's actually something I've discovered by accident. We have never been motivated to buy the latest gadgets and gizmos for our kids. To compensate for the things that we won't buy, we give them something that's free yet still very valuable — our time. I bake with them, their dad wrestles. We snuggle on the couch and read together. I think they're rarely dissatisfied with material goods because they are just so grateful for what little they do get. They don't have a sense of entitlement. And since whining has never worked anyway, they just don't bother."

The father adds, "Well, to be honest, we are spoiling them, except that we're spoiling them with something that's lasting, not fleeting — our love."

9.) Talk to your kids.

I was once singing "Rain, rain, go away; Come again another day; Shaan and Ameen want to play" with my kids when my brother interrupted us.

"Don't teach them that! Rain is a blessing! You don't want them rejecting blessings just because they want `fun'," he chided.

After experimenting with the lyrics, we ended up singing, "Rain, rain, pour, pour, pour; You're a mercy from our Lord; Rain, rain, fall on me; I turn to Allah gratefully." To this day, whenever dark clouds dampen a day that they had hoped to spend outside, my kids console one another by saying, "It's okay. California needs the rain. Allah is being Kind to us."

This suggestion by my brother is a reminder of another piece of advice that families have repeatedly given me — "Never miss out on a teaching moment."

"When your kids are younger, you should take advantage of every opportunity to guide them, remind them, advise them," instructs an Iraqi father of two girls. "Of course, there's a fine line between nagging and teaching, between being judgmental and being perceptive. Nevertheless, I encourage my children to look at everything through `the eye of discernment' . What does everything around us mean? Why is that billboard saying that their brand of soda will guarantee a successful party? What was the real reason that car driver honked his horn like that? Why does this movie make parents look like bumbling fools? Is having to wait in a long line ever a reason to lose your temper with a bank teller? Talk, talk, talk to your kids! Even if they don't say anything, believe me, they're listening!"

"I want to get my `voice' into my kids' heads while they're young," says one mom. "There are so many forces competing for our kids' minds; I want to get in while I can. There will come a time when we all have to let go, but I'm hopeful that my children will always remember their root values once they're out on their own, insha'Allah. "

The families I've admired have all made a point of being "present" with their children, answering their questions patiently and respectfully, not getting annoyed with their seemingly random thoughts. The kids feel that they can ask any question and discuss any subject without any judgment on the part of the parents.

"You know that cliche `There's no such thing as a dumb question'?" asks a Persian friend. "Well, that was always true in our family. I could ask my mom anything, and I was always confident that I would get an honest answer. There were times when I was told that I would have to wait a bit before she was ready to teach me certain truths, but I was able to be patient because I knew that the truth was eventually coming."

10.) They had a pious father who engaged them.

Yes, there are pious mothers who have raised wonderful Muslim kids despite having husbands who not only didn't support them, but even disapproved of their attempts to teach their kids the basics about the deen. And there are single moms who are doing an incredible service to the Ummah by sacrificing, striving, and successfully raising the next generation of believers. We all are more than aware that the mother is the first madrassa (school). And there are examples after examples of mothers who spend the night on the prayer mat weeping in prostration for the future of their families; their secrets are known only to Allah.

But over and over I have seen lackadaisical mothers with pious husbands…and the kids have turned towards their fathers like flowers to the sun. How many of us know of young adults who roll their eyes at their mothers' religiosity while holding their "fun-loving" , worldly, secular fathers up as paragons of rationalism and intelligence? There is a power that fathers have over their offspring, the depth of which we can never fully comprehend; the truth manifests itself when we witness which parent the kid most often chooses to emulate.

A majority of the families I spoke with extolled the virtues of the Amir of the House: the man who led his children in congregational prayer, the father who gently but firmly encouraged his daughter's modesty, the husband who fulfilled his wife's rights without demanding his own, the responsible breadwinner, the dad who put a stop to gossip the moment it started, the Muslim who held fast to his principles (whether it was a father who refused to allow his co-workers to shorten his name from "Mohammad" to "Mo" or the dad who wouldn't travel on Fridays so that his Jumah prayer wouldn't be jeopardized ). The grown children remember their father's integrity and quiet examples long after they have entered parenthood on their own, voluntarily choosing to mold their own lives in honor of a man who didn't force his way of life down their throats when they were younger.

"My mother lectured and taught and scolded and reminded us the entire time we were growing up," one mother of three sons remembers with amusement. "My father told me maybe only five things related to the deen my whole life…and yet I remember every single one; I've never forgotten. I only wish he had shared his thoughts with me more often."

IN CONCLUSION

While I have always been a fan of "how to" and "top ten" lists, I have never allowed myself to be deluded into believing that there are any guarantees for raising righteous children. It hasn't been lost on me that the greatest man in humanity, the Prophet Muhammad (salallaahu alaihi wasallam), was intially raised by a single mom…and that too after being sent away to live amongst the bedouins in the desert while still a baby. Many of the "rules" here didn't apply to his blessed life. His was a singular circumstance, having been raised by Allah Subhana wa Ta'ala Himself. All we can do is try to lay out a safe framework in hopes of trying to reach what he (salallaahu alaihi wasallam) reached through Allah's largesse.

If we want to be successful at something, it behooves us to look at those who have succeeded before us. Each of us has something we can learn from the experiences of another.

There may be some who will read through the list of tips I have collected and think, "We didn't do any of those things, yet our kids turned out just fine!"

To them, I say, "Alhamdulillah! " It's true that there are many kids who didn't have a single one of these "rules" applied to their lives, and, by the Grace and Mercy of Allah, have turned out to be exemplary Muslims.

And without going into unnecessary details, I will say that I have also seen the most pious, practicing, loving parents be disappointed by their children at every turn. These parents are in the company of prophets like Prophet Adam and Prophet Nuh (upon whom be peace) who had sons who rejected their teachings — yet these were fathers who were from among the best of humanity, parents who were in a constant state of supplication and prayer, who received guidance from Above. We can only pray that Allah Subhana wa Ta'ala will not test us through our children the way He tested these great men and their wives. It's interesting to note that many of the men and women in my article have confessed that there were times they felt that they had failed in their duties as parents but took heart knowing that with Allah's help all obstacles could be overcome. Eventually, they all came to the conclusion that there was only "so much" they could do; they needed to submit to Allah's will.

There is great comfort in knowing that parents will be rewarded not for how our children "turn out" but for the intentions we had while raising them, for the steps we took to facilitate their deeni success. All we can do is take the means; the end is up to Allah. "Even if one's kids go astray," advises a scholar, "one should always leave a `door' open for them and pray that they will one day `come back'. We should never cut off relations; we should never despair of Allah's Mercy and Guidance."

"Parenting and living in this dunya is such a struggle," reflects one friend. "We have aspirations of who we want to be as parents and we strive to achieve them, and then are saddened by seeing our failures. I guess it's really about the courage to continue to renew one's intentions and to pray for tawfiq (success)."

None of the parents I interviewed felt "safe" or believed that they had won and were now done with their work. They continued to pray for daily tawfiq long after everyone had started lauding them for the fine job they had done raising their children. "It doesn't matter how wonderfully we live our lives," says one local scholar and father of two girls. "What really matters is how we end our lives (husn al-khatima)…we' re not safe until we die with imaan (faith) in our hearts."

It is with that knowledge that we pray that Allah Subhana wa Ta'ala grants us the dua for "a pure progeny" that He granted Prophet Ibrahim, Prophet Zakariya, and the mother of Maryam (upon them all be peace). We pray that we are able to be worthy teachers for our children who will carry this noble religion on, a precious trust to be handed from one generation to the next. May we not be "the weak link". Aameen.