The ongoing saga of ‘pampering’ our kids

It’s not a new or even novel argument. In fact, more than anything, the discussion seems to be cyclical. It’s even a topic I’ve discussed recently. Parenting style. Or more specifically, does the American ‘style’ of parenting pamper our children too much?

Listen, every parent in history has compared their parenting to someone else (“Oh my gosh, did you see what Debbie would let her son do? If he were my son I’d…”). Expanding this little microcosm, sometimes, entire generations of parents like to compare their parenting or upbringing to that of “kids today” (“Back when I was their age…) as if medals are given out for the parent who got hit with a switch the most often for not finishing their vegetables, or that somehow a unforgiving upbringing makes you more American.

In any case, and maybe it’s because of that immigrant, hardworking, pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps, American mentality, it seems that anything less than a “rub some dirt on it” style of parenting, your children will grow up living a life of spoiled excess.

Since I’ve been a parent for two years and therefore I’m clearly an expert on these things, isn’t it time to just stop and consider that pampering does not mean spoiled, and attending to your child frequently isn’t actually spoiling them?

I’m not sure why we need to feel hardened by our upbringing and therefore, if we don’t make our children feel hardship, then they’ll turn out to be fragile eggshell adults.

I would love my son to never know pain or failure. I don’t relish in opportunities to use discipline. I prefer to shower him with praise for positive things he does. But he will know pain. He will experience failure.

But it’s not enough to just say, “Well kid, sometimes life sucks.” One of the best things about his mental development is his capacity to understand and listen. I’ve found that taking the time to explain both praise and criticism helps him understand and respond far better. When he is praised for asking to go to the bathroom, instead of just praising, I like to explain to him specifically why he’s receiving praise. Similarly, when he hits one of the dogs, yelling doesn’t seem to accomplish anything, so I explain why he’s being disciplined. When he fails, it is important that he understands that failures are part of life, but can we not still empathize? Can’t we still provide encouragement? Where, exactly, is the virtue in raising a child that’s been ‘hardened’ so that it can play one-ups-man to whatever generation comes next?

Children aren’t going to be spoiled because they have a parent that praises them regularly. Nor are they going to be spoiled because they have a parent who provides encouragement in times of failure or sadness. I’ve yet to hear anyone say the root of their problems as an adult was an excess of love and attention by their parents.

And if the worst thing my son can be called is pampered, I’ll take that.

 

Can “The Twos” Not Be Terrible?

Yes, they can. And in fact, could “the terrible twos” be…precious?

The twos probably get a bad rap, but not necessarily for the wrong reason. Age two is really the time in our development that we realize that we understand that we are our own being. That we have thoughts, feelings, and opinions, and try to assert at least some control over our lives.

Think about it, for two years, you’ve had these people (or person–shoutout, single parents!), who, really, do everything for you. They’ve fed you, clothed you, propped you up on the floor, laid you down in your crib, and carried you where you needed to go. And now all the sudden you have the mental and physical capacities to determine where you want to go and how you want to get there, and what you think about where you’re going.

As a parent, it’s amazing and really humbling to see the world through the eyes of a two year old. The observations made, the philosophies spoken, and the memories remembered. My son can recall some of the most benign memories. He understands that when we’re out of oatmeal, it means that Daddy has to go to the store to get some, as he reminded me just yesterday when I was making a quick run to the store (“Daddy, we need bread for sandwiches and oatmeal!”). He assumes that when the sun is out, it’s warm outside, and perhaps he doesn’t understand it fully, but he’s making the connection that the sun generates warmth (I’ve tried to explain the Earth’s axis tilt relative to the plane of our revoltion, but I think we’re still a ways from that).

But at the same time, there are still things that he can’t do on his own and decisions that still need to be made for him. He can’t pour his own drink yet, which often leads to him making decisions like carrying a gallon of milk up a flight of steps. He still needs to be told that it’s time for bed–though the discovery of the digital clock has helped in keeping it consistent from night to night. Sometimes, the decisions we make for him are not the decisions that he would make for himself. And sometimes, this leads to some disagreement.

But thankfully, with the ability to disagree comes the ability to reason–at least a little bit. Often, a calm talking-to can diffuse a heated discussion about picking a book for nap, or why we need to eat our dinner before playing. And sometimes, it means we have to go into separate rooms and let ourselves cool down. But in the end, there’s at the very least a big hug waiting for both of us.

I try to remember all the little things he says, the scenarios he imagines, the observations he makes. Because every one of them is a bit of learning. And he’s learning these things for the first time. And he’s learning spontaneous social interaction–and not just mimicking what he sees. We’ve started down the road of bargaining (“How ’bout we go upstairs for bed at eight zero five?”). He’ll always say “I love you” to us, but sometimes, he’ll come over from playing with a puzzle to put his head on our leg and say “Awww, I love my daddy.” These were things he didn’t do at age 1, and probably not something that we’ll get a ton of when he’s a teenager. And it’s probably what I’ll remember and cherish from “the terrible twos” the most.

Huggies pulls “Dads” ads, realizes it might be offensive to imply dads lack parenting skills

In response to protests and outcry from dads everywhere, Huggies has decided to pull their somewhat-offensive-to-dads ads.

The ad began with a voiceover: “To prove that Huggies diapers and wipes can handle anything,” the female voice-over explains, “we put them to the toughest test imaginable– Dads.”

What followed was a series of five fathers trying to manage sole responsibility for their children for five whole days! Oh, those dads, not quite sure how they make it.

But the pushback was swift. Dads began petitioning to get the ads off the air. Fellow daddy bloggers aired their case to the masses. And moms jumped on board too.

You see, what Huggies fails to realize that even though women solely make up about 75% of diaper purchases, one in three men (according to the US Census) consider themselves their child’s primary caregiver. Not to be outdone, Huggies had a link on their facebook page offering moms the chance to “Nominate a dad” with the tagline “Hand him some diapers and wipes and watch the fun!”

I cannot even begin to estimate the number of diapers I’ve changed. The good, the bad, and the ugly, my friends. No diaper goes unchanged.

In the end, I’m not sure what Huggies was even going after in this. Their spokespeople said it was meant to “shine a light” on dads who ably care for their children every day. Sure, okay. Maybe if you want to do that, actually spend some time showing that dads actually appreciate diapers as much as moms, instead of–from what I was inferring–that no matter what that silly dad does, at least Huggies will still be there.

Really, the greater point is, don’t feel like you have to show dads acting like they don’t regularly parent. I’m pretty sure I can handle my two year-old for five days on our own, just as my wife can do the same. More and more dads view themselves as equal parents, not because we feel discriminated against, but because we understand that it does take two to tango and that little creature has half our genes, so we can probably do at least half of the parenting.

I’m glad Huggies has (finally) realized their error and decided to pull the ads. But in the future, maybe realize that it’s not necessary to show dads acting like overwhelmed zookeepers when taking care of their children.

In the meantime, I’ll stick to Luvs.

Bringing up Bebe (with a shotgun)

Two big parenting stories have hit national headlines in the last two weeks. One, “Why French Parents are Superior” was published in the Wall Street Journal. Author Pamela Druckerman extolled the parenting virtues of the French, that avoiding tantrums, saying ‘no’ with authority, and teaching children patience was what was needed to set American parents back on the track.

On the other side of the spectrum, Tommy Jordan took some shotgun justice to his daughter’s laptop after she made a “disrepectful post” on Facebook. Jordan posted the video to YouTube and by the next morning, some 21 million people have viewed it.

As you can imagine, views on each story are mixed. Many Americans don’t even like hearing the French are better at something than us, while others wish that France would come occupy the US. Similarly, manyparents think that Jordan’s daughter got a dose of the right medicine, while others screamed child abuse.

But no matter where on the spectrum the response fell, all conversation seemed to revolve around a common topic: are Americans parenting their children correctly?

It’s not a new topic. There are literally hundreds of parenting methods out there. All have been scrutinized, and many parents subscribe to any number of them. But are “methods” really anything of the sort? Aren’t methods, really, just a result of social environment? The “French” method at best is nothing more than a reflection of its society. It’s not as if the French hand out a parenting book to all new parents and say, “this is how you will parent your child.”

Similarly, “American Parenting” is nothing more than a reflection of its society. America, on the whole, is more eclectic, and frankly, less top-down than French society. France is an old society. And while maybe less formally now than previous, it still has an oligarchical structure. Personal mystery is cherished. And silence seems to be more appreciated.

On the other hand, there seems to be a sentiment, even among Americans, that American parents are too permissive with their children, not stern enough, and raising children who “don’t respect”. Perhaps this, then, helps shed some light on the 73% of Americans who (albeit unscientifically) agreed with Jordan’s method of taking a shotgun to his daughter’s laptop. Jordan said, “If I did something embarrassing to my parents in public (such as a grocery store) I got my tail tore up right there in front of God and everyone, right there in the store. I put the reprisal in exactly the same medium she did, in the exact same manner.” Parents overwhelmingly agreed with him, saying it’s time that ”someone stood up to these spoiled kids.” Many others were critical of our society’s tendency to involve ourselves too much in our childrens’ lives and therefore offer them too much leniency without corresponding discipline.

And perhaps that’s true. I work in higher ed. “Helicopter parent” is an extreme I deal with on a regular basis. But there are–at the same time–children who get ignored by their parents, who lack any basic parenting. And perhaps the best answer is the simplest, that there’s some middle ground there. Maybe, just maybe there’s a method of getting through to children of the post-millennials that’s more than being completely permissive and taking a shotgun to a laptop–without necessarily becoming French.

One of the quickest things I learned about parenting was that parenting guides are just that, guides. I’ve yet to meet a newborn that knows how to conform to a manual. Parenting is combination of understanding things that contribute to a healthy upbringing and adjusting them to fit the needs of your child.

And as much as it may be hard to realize, our children are being raised in a different society than we likely were. Complaining about your parents used to be something you did to your friends over the phone or in person. If Terry Jordan caught his daughter being disrespectful in 1995, he still could have taken the phone out back and fired buckshot into it. But it’s unlikely he could have had 20 million people watch him do it by the next morning. And perhaps it is there where reality exists: that parents and children often have to learn to navigate society together. Maybe we’re not raising “spoiled brats”, but simply children that have access to things that we didn’t. We parents like to think that our children have it easy. That they didn’t have to worry about this or that, and the world they live in makes it so easy for them. But couldn’t it also be overwhelming? For a teenager, Facebook serves as a way to connect more easily to others, to broadcast their lives in ways we weren’t able to do. But when they do something like every teenager does–complain about their parents–their parents ultimately find out about it, too.

Maybe the happy medium, then, is an understanding that our children–and therefore our parenting–are products of society. A progressing society. And one that might be best served with children and parent as partners. I was raised in a family where I got to steer my own ship. But my parents were the captain and navigator. They helped me keep it between the buoys. And the result was a self-dependence supported by parents who would never let me run ashore.

Does Valentine’s Day change after becoming a parent?

It’s commercialized, expensive, and time-consuming, dictated by tradition. Parenting, that is.

How much should a man do?

Household and parenting roles have changed drastically in just a few generations.

“Stay-at-home dad” and “working mother” are more common than ever. But nevertheless, there seems to be a great quandary over who does what and how much should they do?

Being a man, I don’t even want to presume to know anything about the female experience, so I’ll stay far away. But husbands and dads are in a constant flux over what and how much. In the past year, I’ve read dozens of blogs and articles (mostly female writers) talking about the fatherhood experience. One particularly troubling article was “My husband, the perfect mom” that was published on CNN.com in early January (it has since been taken down). The article detailed the jealousy of a mother over her husband’s relationship with their children. Not know the writer’s specific intentions, the article came across that Dad was simply doing too much.

Other articles have been opposite, saying that Dad isn’t doing enough to help in parenting and household obligations. Frankly, what’s a dad to do?

One thing is for sure, no matter what the expectations are outside the home, the demands inside the home haven’t changed. Children still need parenting. Food must still be prepared. Chores must still be done. Logically, if there is now an expectation for women to hold jobs outside the home, so it is the expectation that men do more inside the home. My wife shouldn’t be expected to work an 8 hour shift, and then come and handle all the household obligations.

Parenting, though, is still different. Household chores don’t provide emotional attachment. When I put away dishes, it’s not because I love the dishes, it’s simply that the dishes have to be put away. I helped dirty them, I can help put them away.

Being a dad, my commitment to my son is–quite plainly–biological. There’s a human connection there that whatever he needs, I’ll do. Not because it’s an obligation (though it certainly is), but because I’m his parent and I love him.

So when a dad is criticized for helping too much in something so purely wired, so evolutionary, it hurts. Dads shouldn’t be encouraged to do more, it’s hopefully already there. But we certainly shouldn’t be encouraged to do less.

But the ball is in our court. The expectation of fathers should be to go above and beyond was has been ‘traditionally required’ of us. A dad doing simply what he is wired to do shouldn’t be so much an outlier than an article is required of it, it should just be the norm.

Why it’s good to have the funny kid

A sense of humor is good. Sure, there’s the obvious reasons, like keeping you from taking things too seriously, the ability to bring laughter to others, and ‘a good sense of humor’ is usually top-3 in every woman’s “lists of things I desire in a man” (which is especially important, because otherwise, I’d likely not be married).

But is a sense of humor important in the development of your kids?