Tag: parenting

The kids had off from school on Election Day earlier this week. We ran our last fundraising activity for Cub Scouts that day at the polling station. Since we’re selling product, popcorn to be precise, and I’m the Cubmaster I had to be on call to support whoever was selling at the time. Mostly, that means bringing more popcorn for them to sell, but I also might have to help out with change or something similarly exciting.

Since I was going to be somewhat occupied by that activity, and the plan was to take the boy to sell for an hour during the afternoon, we decided to let the lass go see a friend for half the day. I dropped her off early in the morning and that left the boy with me.

So what did we do? In a word: chores.

More specifically, I did some grocery shopping and continued with doing cleanup from Sandy. The large tree that we took down in the early hours of the storm still needed to be chopped and the wood that I had chopped needed to be stacked. Also, there was more wood in the back to clear or harvest for firewood. So the bulk of the time was spent doing that.

The boy was disappointed.

I’d asked him to come outside and help me with stacking the wood, since it had to be carried across the yard to get it to it’s resting place for seasoning. I figured with a little help we could complete the project quicker. Well, I’d have been right if I’d received a “little” help. The boy did pick up a few pieces and stack them. But for the most part, he whined about the fact that it was boring work and wanted to know if this was all the we were going to do.

I wasn’t in a mood to humor him or try to make the work seem more glamorous than it was. The fact is, he was right- the work is boring. But then, that’s life. It’s meals, laundry, pickup the kids, drive the kids, mow the lawn, chop the wood. For the Wife, it’s go to work, laundry and all the rest. Why bother putting lipstick on a pig?

So I told him that sometimes there’s work that needs to be done and it isn’t fun or glamorous, like vacuuming or dusting, but it needs to be done and it’s best to just get to it. Further, I explained that most of life would be like that, even after he had a job someday. He’d go to work and, if he was lucky, some of the work would be interesting. But for the most part, there’d be things he’d have to do that wouldn’t be as much fun, or interesting. But he’d still have to do it. Finally, I told him that’s why you can have fun later, because you get the boring stuff done.

I don’t know that he’s too young to understand that, but he’s definitely too young to accept it. When his sister came home and told of all the fun stuff she did with her friend, he told her flatly “We worked the whole time.”

I wonder if this isn’t a fault in parenting now-a-days. We spend so much time as parents trying to find ways to entertain the kids: here’s a DS, here’s a portable DVD player, here’s an iPod, here’s a word search book, here’s some other thing to hold your attention for 5 seconds. Then, when it comes time to actually do something productive and necessary, they aren’t prepared for it because it doesn’t beep, bloop, blow-up, or entertain in some way. It’s just them and a rake or some wood or the vacuum and how boring is that? Perhaps more time should be spent on basic chores so that, while they don’t necessarily like them, they at least are part of their routine. And with that, they learn by doing that boring stuff can be done and then they can have their fun afterwards.

This parent inhales:

I swear I am a more loving, attentive and patient father when I take my medication as prescribed. Perhaps this isn’t surprising. As anyone who inhaled during college can attest, cannabis enhances the ability to perceive beauty, complexity and novelty in otherwise mundane things (grout patterns in your bathroom floor, the Grateful Dead, Doritos), while simultaneously locking you into a prolonged state of rapt attention.

He’s got a medical marijuana card to help with his stress. The stress is a result of living in a 2-income family in an expensive city.

I won’t say I’m speechless, though I don’t really know what to say. On the one hand, why not move somewhere less expensive and give up the job? On the other hand, who the hell am I to tell this guy what to do. Let’s leave it at, I won’t be using this method any time soon.

I do wonder, what’s this guy gonna do when his oldest puts 2-and-2 together?

hattip: Patterico

Simple, have one of their friends over for a visit. Even better, make it a sleep over.

Some of you reading this may remember a time before cable. Back then, channel choices were limited to UHF and VHF. Most of the networks channels were on VHF and those typically came in the clearest. But it was rare that the antenna could remain in one position and maximize reception for all the stations. If you remember those times, perhaps you also remember to whom the job fell to tune the antenna. Us (at the time) kids. If we were particularly unlucky, the mere act of touching the antenna would result in better reception. At which point it was time to settle in and get comfortable.

Not only did we tune the antenna, we also were the remote controls for our parents. And, I suppose, why not? Since we were already up there futzing with the antenna. Might as well kill two birds with one stone. We’d patiently stand up there flicking the dials on the TV (or pushing the buttons for the stations on the more modern versions) waiting for some kind of “OK” to signal that a station had been selected and we could return to our seat. Assuming we weren’t making reception possible, that is.

I mention this because I think there’s something useful there from a parenting perspective. Namely, the act of a parent having a child do something trivial. While I remember being none to thrilled with the job at the time, as a parent I actually think that things like this have a place in helping parents raise their kids.

Mainly, it’s an assertion of dominance. Not the kind of dominance where a parent is actually forcing a child, mentally or physically, to do things a certain way. Rather, it’s the kind of dominance where the notion is enforced that the family has a pecking order and the parents are at the top of that order, while the kids reside somewhere lower in that order.

I’ve never bought into the “parents as friends” line of thinking. Kids don’t know enough about the world in order to make good decisions. As a case in point, we had a Roadside Cleanup with the Cub Scouts this past weekend. In my group of boys, one of them decided that a good diversion was to pretend a bear had emerged from the woods and was chasing him. So he ran off screaming right down the middle of the road. (I did take him aside immediately to deal with the behavior and he didn’t do it anymore). Like I said, not the best at decision making. We parents have to teach them that sort of thing, be it through example or by talking them through the decision making or by scolding them when they get something demonstrably wrong or by letting them suffer the consequences of their own decisions.

Now, can a parent teach that sort of thing (or anything, for that matter) if the child doesn’t respect the parent as the leader? Not likely, in my book. Does anyone listen to someone they don’t respect?

But how to establish that pecking order? How to establish that status as the leader above the kids? That’s were kids-as-clickers comes into play.

Using the kids as a clicker reinforces the pecking order of the family because the kids are the one doing the work for their parents. It works because it happens every day and it’s a trivial exercise for the kids to perform. After a short period of time, it’s simply understood that this is one of their jobs as a kid, so they do it with minimal fuss. This makes it a win because for a couple of reasons. One, it’s a low-overhead request; meaning parents won’t have to expend a lot of emotional energy (aka- screaming) to get the kids to follow through. Second, it helps to lay the ground work for future moments where you’ll need their help or you’ll want to explain something important to them (like how pretending a bear is chasing you as a pretext for running, screaming down the middle of the road is a bad idea).

Nowadays, we have actual real remote controls so kids don’t have to be our remotes. But there’s still no shortage of simple tasks that they can do: retrieving food from the pantry or freezer, getting the mail, letting the pets in and out, feeding the pets, bringing clothes for laundry. Frankly, whatever they can be convinced to help out with works towards the ends of reinforcing the notion that the parents are the boss. The key is that it has to be fairly trivial to perform (thereby minimizing the opportunity for foot dragging), and it has to be something that needs to be done (now they’ve done something useful rather than just some random request because Mom or Dad is on a power trip)

All that said, kids-as-clickers is not a cure all. Just because they do these things doesn’t mean they’ll become perfect little angels. At least, not if my 2 are any indicator. They’ll still carp about certain tasks, and claim it’s the other ones turn; but, I do think they are more likely to listen in general as well as primed for larger requests of their time and effort as a result of having established the pattern of parents-ask-and-children-do.

The kids have been off the wall for the past hour. Coincidentally, (AHEM!) right after we ended their video game time. Their antics were to such a degree that we finally told them to go outside and play.

It’s raining and dark out, just for a data point.

Shortly after they went downstairs, I started hearing something that sounded suspiciously like the boy crying. Rather than go and investigate, however, I waited.

Sure enough, the lass came traipsing upstairs a few moments later and began a long-winded dissertation on the course of events that led up to … something. It started with the dinosaurs and ended with her losing her boots because her brother grabbed her, or something. To be honest, I never was really clear on that point.

She never mentioned her brother’s predicament, other than that he had wronged her in some way, presumably with the boot thing. So I asked her if the boy was crying.

“Yes, I went to try and clean up the mess with the mop and he tripped over the mop and fell.”

“Is there any blood?” I asked. I was playing Bubble Buster at the time.

“I didn’t notice,” she answered.

“Well, go back downstairs and if their isn’t a pool of blood on the ground, then there’s no need to come back upstairs because he’s fine,” I told her.

“OK,” she chirped and off she went.

She didn’t come back up.

Neither the Wife nor I went down.

The boy continued to “cry.”

I’ve been thinking a fair amount about my actions Sunday on the behalf of the boy. I haven’t teased out any big lessons. But there are a few things worth keeping in mind since there’s a chance I’ll see this sort of thing again.

1. The antagonist has all the advantages.

   It’s hard to appreciate this point until it’s seen in action. Any kid is clever enough to push boundaries when no one is looking. But it also goes farther than that. If the boy retaliates, who’s more likely to be noticed? Further compounding the problem is that the boy was doing everything “correctly.” He kept avoiding escalating things even as the other kid continued to do so. He told a coach about it; unfortunately, on the ice it’s hard for a coach to take action because the likelihood of him seeing something is minimal. His attention is on 30-some odd kids on the ice. What’s more, bodies are going down all the time, how’s a coach reasonably supposed to notice that someone is being deliberately targeted?

   My advice to the boy for the future was to give any future perpetrator a warning, and then make a scene without getting too physical. The problem is people are so afraid of violence that the natural way to deal with the situation, punch back twice as hard, is deemed unacceptable. This was the best compromise I could come up with.

2. Talk to the coaches first.

   Telling the other parent is one thing, but the people most capable of dealing with the situation are the coaches. They are the immediate authority. In the future, that’s the first place I’ll go, rather than confronting the child directly. If that doesn’t result in an improvement, then bringing it to the parent’s attention would be the next step.

   The problem here is potentially neither party deals with the situation appropriately. The coach because they didn’t see it; the parent because they don’t want to believe their kid is capable of such behavior, or just attribute it to “boys being boys.” I’m not sure what the answer is here.

3. This wasn’t a case of bullying.

   While tempting to call it that, it was closer to isolated harassment or some such. Bullying is another degree where the prey can’t escape the predator, ever. Plus, there’s an intimidation factor involved.

   The boy wasn’t intimidated by the other kid and, near as I can tell, it was something that came up on Sunday rather than something that had been ongoing. He’s was more concerned that retaliating would get him in trouble. Which goes to show he’s on the milder side of the spectrum when it comes to aggression. He also tried to quietly thwart some of the other kids provocations, like blocking the kid’s stick at one point.

4. I’m not sorry I acted.

   I imagine that I’ve upset minimally the parent’s of the other kid, and possibly the coaches. That’s unfortunate, but I won’t be apologizing to anyone. Though I will try to act differently in the future.

   My concern, at the end of the day, is for the boy’s welfare. Part of that means letting him know that I’ll stick up for him required. As I said before, he was doing everything right but ultimately being punished for it because no one else noticed. I put a stop to that.

5. Make sure the boy understands what he can do.

   This is by far the hardest one, because the best way stop this sort of stuff is for the boy to stick up for himself and let the other kid know he won’t stand for it. Telling the parent’s or the coaches might work, but it also might make the kid more clever in his moments when he decides to take his shot.

   If, however, he knows that there will be no joy had because the boy won’t take it, then there’s no reward for his actions. Since this wasn’t truly a case of bullying, in my book anyway, I think that would have been sufficient to stop the whole thing.

   Unfortunately, the options for the boy are limited. Just about any physical retaliation won’t work because they boy will get in trouble for that. Also, once emotions start running hot, there’s the likelihood that he goes too far.

   The course of action the boy took, turning the other cheek and telling a coach, is fine as far as it goes, but it’s also pretty ineffective. The coach has to see something, and short of that, the boy had to continue to endure the provocations until I finally intervened.

   Ultimately, I told him to make a very visible scene next time. Basically, he needs to draw attention the fact that he’s being singled out and he needs to point that out to the coaches. What’s more, doing it loudly and visibly seems likely to make the coaches take some kind of action, as opposed to passively waiting for something to happen. Still, this approach has shortcomings as well. He could easily over react; it could be interpreted as drama or his being overly sensitive. It also turns into a matter of who’s story the coaches believe.

Deadspin is a sports news site, mostly famous for their hatred of ESPN. That said, they also write about other things such as parenting. This article I found myself agreeing with just about everything in it. It’s a tad profane, but if you can stomach and f-bomb or ten, then it’s an amusing and an illuminating read.

I’ve committed all of these errors except for the chasing one. But don’t attribute that to any special insight on my part other than, we don’t live in a palace and there’s only so far they can run. I pretty much agree with all of them except the power-struggle stuff. For my money, the parents are the boss and the kids have got to learn that. Naturally, they will challenge on occasion and those situations need to be dealt with accordingly. Thus, power struggles are unavoidable.

Otherwise, no quibbles.

Glenn Reynolds points us to an article at Shine about the cost of parenting:

Everyone who has ever become a parent can testify to the financial challenges that go with raising kids. In fact, the average cost of raising a child to age 17 is over $150,000 per year.

I’m calling BS on this. I can’t even fathom a way that it costs that much per year to raise a kid, let alone averages to that much. The only possible way that works is if parents making over $150,000 a year give up their job to raise their kids. But I’m pretty sure that puts the earner in the top 5%, meaning there just aren’t enough of them to skew the results that high.

First off, logically speaking, if it costs $150K per year to raise 1 child, isn’t that saying that only people who make more than that can raise kids? I can assure you from personal experience that’s an incorrect statement.

I gave up my job just prior to the lass coming along and at the time I was at $65K per year. On my trajectory at the time, I might be earning around $80K today, assuming I’d stayed out of management. That leaves another $70K just to hit the mark cited by the article. I manage the household finances and I can tell you that it does NOT cost $70K for both kids, let alone one.

Most of the stuff that really hurts when it comes to raising kids are 1 time kind of costs, like birth. But that only happens once per kid. At least, that’s how it was the last time I checked. Anyway, along those lines, things like camp, sports, dance and music lessons and the like are typically on the order of hundreds of dollars per year.

Taxes, you say? Not likely, says I. Sure, that’s a big cost, but there’s that “child deduction” thingy that reduces the tax cost, for one. And for two, taxes are still only in the $5K range (local taxes that contribute to public schools), and that likely way to the high side.

The only other big-time cost might be a Nanny or daycare, but then the situation is likely that the parent has chosen not to give up working. So the major driver of the cost goes way down. Daycare can run $20K to $30K depending on the frequency. A Nanny is essentially an employee, so that’s the most expensive option. But even then, they aren’t being paid anywhere near $100K, let alone $150K.

There are other hidden costs as well, but they still don’t add up. Buying a car big enough to haul the munchkins around, along with all of their crap (not literally, at least, not always…) and the booster seats or child safety seats, certainly cost a lot. But what parent is buying a new car on a yearly basis?

I’d like to see the work done to arrive at this number. It just seems preposterously high.

The boy came home from school in a good mood. After hanging up his coat and backpack, he took out his homework and completed it. He also has reading he’s supposed to do, so he sat down and read as well. A load of dishes had finished up and when I said “Could someone unload the dishwasher?”, he jumped right up and helped along with his sister. To finish things off, he went upstairs and, uh, plugged the toilet; then he unplugged it without anyone telling him to do so, and he made sure to tell me about it.

Then, he asked me for a reward, though not quite so bluntly. First, he listed all of the things he’d just done right since he got home from school. Then he “just wondered if that was worth anything.”

I was … puzzled. In my formative years, rewards, if they were given at all, were unexpected and never asked for. (At least, I don’t recall asking for a reward- I’m not talking about wanting something. I’m talking about doing a bunch of stuff and then asking to be rewarded for my efforts.) In fact, I’d say more often than not, the “reward” was not getting yelled at for not doing what I was supposed to have done.

In other words, certain things were simply expected. That list got longer as I got older and more capable. That whole while, rewards were reserved for moments that were truly noteworthy.

So, what to make of the situation with the boy? Is this just a failure in parenting? The inevitable blowback of trying to tease certain behaviors out of the kids? A sign of the times, where awards and rewards are used like currency with kids? Something else? Is it good or bad or does it not even matter in the scheme of things?

After he asked me, I asked him “What if I were to tell you that it’s worth a ‘Nice job,’ and that’s it?” A simple test question to see what I was dealing with.

He answered “Then I’d say ‘Thanks.'”

Either he knew the answer to say, or he was answering earnestly.

I considered him for a few moments and he patiently awaited my verdict.

Finally, I told him he could play Angry Birds for awhile.

Guess I answered at least one of my own questions.

There are actually a number of things that I, personally, would throw into the “I’d do it differently now” category when it comes to the kids. But the one big one I always come back to is video games. In short, I really wished we’d waited before introducing them to the kids.

For one, both kids get nasty after playing with the game for awhile. I don’t know if staring at the pixels affects their brain or if there some kind of subliminal thing going on, but more often then not the kids get short tempered and grouchy after playing the game. It’s like they’re coming down off a high or something.

For two, the boy takes these games way to seriously and personally. There’s been many a time where the Wife and I stare at each other in slack-jawed amazement as the boy screams and cries in fury at a game. That’s usually followed by blaming the game for trying to cheat him. When we suggest to simply put the game down and walk away for a few minutes until he regains some semblance of dignity and composure, he refuses.

For three, there’s nothing more annoying than having one kid play and the other sit there and watch. And watch. And watch. If the one plays for 2 hours, the other will sit and watch for those 2 hours. The Wife and I have to resort to either pulling the plug on the games in general, or insisting the watcher go do something more productive.

Plus, there’s the non-stop “Can I play on my DS?” or “Can I play the Wii?” Then they get bored with the games they’ve got and want new ones, so that battle has to be fought.

I let myself be swayed by arguments for how the games encourage problem solving, eye-hand coordination and other such “benefits”. Plus, the friend factor works against the “nots” as well. Even if a game is refused them, thye will still get exposed to it via their friends. If only we could all get together before hand and agree that none of us will go in on the video game thing until their “older,” there might be a chance. Of course, some of them have older siblings, so that approach gets shot to hell in a hurry. Basically, everything is stacked against a parent where video games are concerned.

We all get assimilated eventually. But I’d make “eventually” a lot further out on the timeline if I could.