RAISING A POWERFUL DAUGHTER

Marion Pellicano Ambrose

When my daughter was an infant, I dressed her in frilly little dresses, sunbonnets and little princess shoes. She always looked adorable with her big blue eyes, pink heart shaped lips and long, silky blonde hair. When she turned 4 ½   , I went away for a weekend on retreat and left her alone with my husband. When I returned, she had a short “butch” haircut and was wearing camouflage pants, a black t shirt and sneakers. She was absolutely thrilled with the way she looked and felt and needless to say, there was no getting her back into  “princess” clothing again! At first I was upset, but soon I realized that even at 4, she was making a choice about who she wanted to be, and she was choosing to be active, a little bit tough, and independent, and that was a good thing!

 After that, I made it my business to learn more about raising a “powerful” daughter. Powerful girls are more secure in themselves. They make positive choices and think critically about the world around them. They take action when needed and are able to express their feelings, but also be aware and sensitive to the thoughts and feelings of others.  It seems like it should be easy, right? Well, it isn’t. It takes thought, patience, and a lot of trial and error on the part of both parents. Here’s what my husband and I did.

1.     We let her try different interests. If she showed an interest in Ballet, we took her. We went through piano, ballet, tap, Irish Step Dancing, Soccer, Basketball and gymnastics before she found what she loved – Kung Fu, Clarinet and Art classes. She enjoyed Daisies, Girl Scouts and other activities as well, but these three were her passion. When she got older she got involved in Student Government , German Club, and Swing Dancing. Each activity taught her more confidence and rounded out her personality.

2.    One of the things my husband found easy and I almost had a nervous breakdown over, was allowing her the freedom to take risks, both physical and emotional. She went to a high ropes course and loved it! I had a stomach ache for 2 days after! She rode horses, parasailed, traveled to student conferences out of state and lived through it all, contrary to my worries. Again, each experience made her a stronger, more confident person. Emotional risks included making choices about friends and boyfriends, choices about our Religious and Cultural traditions (once she was old enough). I’m happy to say that she’s developed amazing skills from her successes and her failures.

3.    We made sure we talked every single day. We talked about values, conscience, prejudice, empathy, tolerance, love, intense dislike (we never use the word “hate” in our home), and apathy. We gave her the opportunity to talk about anything without fear. She knew there were consequences for certain actions, but truth was valued highly and lying only added to the consequences.  We tried very hard to model the values we talked about, but openly admitted our failures and weaknesses but with the resolve to try harder.

INSIDE THE BELTLINE-KERR PELTO

Remembering – For My Mother

She sat, looking out of the window on a crisp spring morning and remembered.

She remembered growing up in a house where being a child meant always feeling safe. Where she could make “soup” out of her ice cream while sitting in the breakfast nook, and that was okay. Where she could make “tents” out of sheets in her bedroom and play all day with her Barbie and Ken dolls, and that was okay. Where dinner was always served at 6pm, without fail, in the Formal Dining Room. Not finishing what was on your plate was not okay! But polite conversation was, and holding your knife and fork correctly while saying “Please” and “Thank You” was.

She remembered the change that occurred in her life when The River House was bought and summers became magical. The drudgery of school, homework, and schedules was left behind and replaced with the carefree living of hot summers without time. What bathing suit was she going to wear that day? Were the boys, who lived down the lane, going to show up that day? Was it going to rain? Would Momma let her ride her bicycle to the corner store for an ice cream bar?

Sandwiches were made and packed up into a container along with some chips and a drink, and that would last for hours while she sat on the pier with her Mom and her friends. She never got tired of just watching the water move, the birds fly, and the boats cruising by pulling skiers.

They talked about everything and nothing at all.

She remembered the changes that happened as she became a Mother of three children. Life was not as carefree as it was being a child herself. But it became about caring for them. Making sure they felt safe in their home. Making sure it was okay to make “soup” out of their ice cream. Making sure it was okay to make tents in their bedrooms. Making sure dinners were always served, not necessarily in the Dining Room, not necessarily on time every  night, and not usually as fancy as her Mother’s. But she did remind her children daily how to hold their knives and their forks and to say “Please” and “Thank You.”

She made sure that her children experienced that magic in the summertime when she would pack them all up in the station wagon that used to be her Mother’s and arrive at The River House. Her Mother would be waiting in the driveway and yell “yoo-hoo” as they drove up the lane. Sandwiches were made and put in containers and toted out to the pier. Hours were spent jumping in and out of the water.

And now she is a Grandmother. And the cycle continues on.

But something never changed. Through all of the stages and changes in her life, her Mother was always there. She was in the kitchen when the ice cream soup was being made. She was somewhere in the house, cleaning, when the tents were made. She was at one end of the Dining Room table, making sure that “Please” and “thank You” were said.

The summer magic at The River House happened because she was there. She made it magical. She made it carefree. She made the meals that were eaten on the front porch in the coolness of the mornings and the evenings. She made sure every night at sunset that everyone was on the pier, watching the slow descent of the sun. Each night proved a different show of spectacular color.

As she remembered all of these things, she hoped she was as good of a Mother. She hoped she was as good of a Grandmother. She hoped her children would think their growing up years were magical and carefree. And she hoped that she would be the constant through all of the changes in their lives, like her Mother was in hers. Always being there, always ready to love.

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