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Posts Tagged ‘Parenting’

Columbus has a lot to be proud about.  It’s the state capital, it’s the home to one of the nation’s largest, and finest, universities as well as a number of Fortune 500 companies, and it is one of the few growing cities in the Midwest.  Now we can also proudly say that we are home to a kid who played video games for at least four straight days and had to be hospitalized for dehydration as a result.

What a tribute to the family values, careful parenting, and common sense that have made our city such a fine place to live!  Fifteen-year-old Tyler Rigby locked himself into his room for four days to engage in a Modern Warfare 3 marathon, leaving his room only to use the bathroom and eat.  Eventually he left his room and collapsed due to dehydration.  His mother — who apparently didn’t do anything to stop Tyler’s ludicrous video game marathon — said she was worried he was going to die.  Fortunately, he’s been filled with fluids and is expected to be okay.

Yes, it’s a proud day for Columbus, and for attentive parents everywhere.

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During our trip to Columbia, Kish and I went to a laundromat to give Richard a hand with washing and drying.

It’s the first time I’ve been in a laundromat for several decades, and I hope I never have to go back.  This laundromat had the standard sticky furnishings, tired decor, and tattooed patrons, but what really made the experience unbearable was the appalling conduct of a annoying boy.  He kept shouting for his ridiculously inattentive father, who seemed perfectly happy to play old video games and let his kid ruin the days of everyone else in the establishment.

On that day, the laundromat could easily have passed for one of Dante’s layers of hell, and the experience moved me to compose some bad verse:

Parenting In Laundromat Hell

We went to local laundromat

Some clean clothes to be had

But there we met an awful brat

Always yelling: “Dad!  Dad!! DAD!!!

The snotty kid, his Dad ignored

So he decided to be bad

He leaned back his head and roared

“Hey Dad!  Hey Dad!!! Hey DAD!!!!!

At first I laughed at Papa’s plight

But then my thoughts grew mad

As hellion crowed, with all his might

“Hey Dad!  Hey Dad!!  Hey DAD!!!

He ran ’round washers, dryers too,

That misbehaving lad

And sent us to hell’s raging fires

Screaming:  “Dad!  Dad!! DAD!!!

I wanted to give the kid a swat

But I felt like a cad

For fault was not with the tot

But with his Dad!  Dad!! DAD!!!

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The April unemployment rate dropped slightly, to 8.1 percent.  Unfortunately, the decline was due not so much to the creation of new jobs, but to the fact that hundreds of thousands of people just quit looking for work.

Under the government’s approach to calculating the unemployment rate, those people just aren’t counted as unemployed any more.  As a result of the continuing decline in the number of people looking for work, the share of Americans who are part of the labor force — either working or actively looking — has reached its lowest point in 30 years.  Some of the people who have quit looking for work are early retiring Baby Boomers, but many are people who have just given up hope of finding a job.

There is a tremendous human cost when people give up.  They may have started their job search with confidence, sending out resumes and answering want ads and going to job fairs.  But, after months without success, grim reality creeps in.  They know they have failed, and it embarrasses them.  Often, because they are embarrassed, they lash out at family and friends.  They limit their horizons, rationalize their failure, and stop dreaming of a better future.  They focus, instead, on settling and making do with what they have left.  The whole process sucks the air out of their balloon and they face life deflated and defeated.

There’s a reason why many parents won’t allow their kids to quit a sports team or a school activity once they’ve committed to it.  That’s because quitting tends to lead to more quitting.  Once you’ve stopped trying in one area, and just accepted your reduced status, it becomes progressively easier to quit in other areas, too — whether it is school, or work, or relationships.  Quitting is cancerous.

I think this is the hidden, long-term issue we will be dealing with if this recession ever ends.  There are people of all age groups who have given up.  The younger ones may have moved back in with their parents; the older ones may be slowly spending their savings and trying to hold on.  Will those people ever be reinvigorated, given their confidence back, and returned to the point where they dare to dream again?

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Last Sunday Kish and I were getting ready to take the dogs for a walk when there was a knock at the door.  We opened our front door to find a teenage girl and her mother, both unknown to us, on the doorstep.

The girl explained that they were members of a nearby church.  She said she was collecting money so she could go to a church camp this summer, which was her “dream.”  She said she would be participating in a 5K walk, held up a generic sign-in sheet, and asked if we would sponsor her.  We gave her $5.  All the time, her mother stood there, beaming.

This incident left a sour taste in my mouth.  The girl and her mother didn’t look impoverished; they appeared to be average, well-fed, middle-class Americans.  They weren’t trying to raise money for a charity or a school or group activity.  Instead, they were just going door-to-door, asking complete strangers for a hand-out so the girl could go to camp in a few months.

This used to be called “begging.”  The 5K and the sign-up sheet were just a fig leaf for a naked appeal for cash.

Perhaps I’m just not a very charitable person.  Perhaps I should focus on the fact that we and our neighbors gave hard-earned money to these strangers to help them out.  Perhaps the girl will now go through life believing that Americans are decent, generous people who lend a hand when you are in need.

However, I wonder, instead, whether we have really come to the point where parents not only allow their kids to solicit donations for personal items door-to-door, but also participate in the process?  Could this girl not get a job to pay for her dream, or hold a garage sale, or save for a few months to cover the cost of the camp?  Couldn’t the family make a few sacrifices to pay her way?

This young girl probably collected more money from our neighborhood than she would from 10 hours of work at a minimum wage job.  What kind of message is she getting?

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In Cleveland Heights, county workers have put an eight-year-old boy who weighs more than 200 pounds into foster care after concluding that the boy’s mother isn’t doing enough to control his weight.  The boy isn’t suffering from any medical conditions other than sleep apnea, but he is considered at risk of weight-related diseases such as hypertension and diabetes.  It’s the first time anyone in Ohio can recall a child being taken from his home purely because of a weight issue.

Childhood obesity is a problem in America — but when should the state intervene to deal with individual cases?  County workers say the boy’s weight is due to his environment and his mother’s failure to follow doctor’s orders; they consider the boy’s condition to be just another form of medical neglect.  The mother, and her lawyer, say the county overreached because the boy is in no immediate danger and the mother has been trying to control his weight.  They note that the boy is on the honor roll and participates in school activities, and add that removing a child from his home and family and putting him foster care can cause its own harms.

This case is an example of what can happen when less-than-perfect parenting and an activist government intersect.  I’m not in favor of officious government workers deciding what’s best for us, but I also question how an attentive parent could let a weight issue become so extreme.  If you conclude that the county acted correctly in this instance, where do you draw the line?  Could it have acted even sooner — when, say, the boy first tipped the scales at 175 pounds?  And if you think the county acted improperly, is there any point at which it should intervene short of the child developing medical problems that clearly are weight-related?

While we wrestle with these abstract issues of individual responsibility and government intrusion, however, I think of the kid at the center of this story.  It’s hard to envision an eight-year-old boy who weighs more than 200 pounds, and it’s even harder to imagine that boy having any kind of normal childhood — particularly now that he’s become the focal point of a much larger tug of war.

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Having done some traveling recently, I’ve been thinking about the rules I would enforce if I were king.  Although there are many, five come readily to mind:

1.  Don’t bring luggage you can’t lift.  Saturday I saw a common sight:  a petite woman struggling with a monster bag on the baggage carousel.  She grabbed the bag, could not lift it off the conveyor, didn’t let go, and plowed into the people next to her until someone helped out.  This will no longer be tolerated!  If you are going to check a bag, do a test at home and confirm that can actually lift it come  baggage claim time.  If it is a carry-on, be sure that you can lift it overhead without it falling and knocking out an innocent fellow passenger.

2.  Respect my baggage claim space.  Nothing bugs me more than finding a place around the baggage claim carousel that provides good sight lines, then having multiple johnny-come-latelys wedge in front of me and block my view so that I can’t see my bag until it appears, in motion, in the tiny gap right in front of me.  To quote Moe Howard of Three Stooges fame, when it comes to baggage claim, “Spread out!”

3.  You must take a long, hot shower before you travel by air.  Let’s be reasonable.  You are going to be in very close proximity to total strangers, so let’s respect their interest in not being assaulted by your unseemly body odors.  I don’t care if you felt that you had to get in a workout right before the flight.  And the penalty for violating this rule would be tripled on a trans-Atlantic flight.

4.  No abrupt stopping is permitted when you are walking through airports.  Unless you are in the gate seating area, recognize that everyone around you is in motion.  If everyone maintains their pace, the traveler rushing to get to their gate can calculate gaps, adjust their gait accordingly, and weave through the traffic.  But if a family walking four across suddenly stops in the middle of traffic, havoc ensues.  Treat the walkway areas like an interstate.  If you must stop, first move off to the side.

5.  Keep your charming kids to yourself.  I like kids, I really do.  I just don’t enjoy misbehaving rug rats in the gate area when I am waiting for my flight after a tiring day.  On Saturday I was plugged into a charging station when a five-year-old came over to examine things in the uncomfortable, up-close-and-personal, touchy way that is common to five-year-olds.  Give me a break!  No one wants some hyped-up kid bugging them or racing around the gate area, shrieking while they play a game.  I can tolerate crying kids — everyone knows that happens to overtired youngsters — but what really gripes my cookies is inattentive parents who don’t make their kids sit down or get up themselves and walk around with a child who has ants in his pants and can’t sit still.

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Earlier this month Kish and I wrote our last college tuition check.  It is one of those milestones that you don’t fully appreciate until you have reached it — and then you realize that it means a lot, and in unexpected ways.

Of course, college graduation is an achievement for the student, the culmination of four years of classes, tests, labs, papers, deciding on majors, and thinking about what you want to do with your life (among other college-related activities).  It also is an achievement for those parents who have footed some or all of the bill for the education the graduate has received.  For those parents, the sense of accomplishment probably is similar to the feeling people used to have when they made their final house payment and had a party in which the couple lit aflame the mortgage papers.  As proud as Kish and I have been of Richard and Russell and their fine college careers, we also should be proud of ourselves.

Yet, for all of the positive feelings that come with signing that last tuition check, there is an even stronger feeling of wistfulness and — to be perfectly blunt — advancing age.  When your kids have graduated from college you can’t really consider them to be kids any more.  They will always be your children, but now they are adults.  You will never watch them play a Little League game again, or help them with their homework, or take them to the 8th grade dance class.  They will move on with their lives, and you will be more of a spectator than a participant — like the initial guest on the old Tonight Show who began in the seat next to Johnny Carson and ends the show four guests away at the end of the couch, next to Ed McMahon.

As much as I have looked forward to being done with college payments, I now find myself wishing that the day hadn’t come quite so quickly.

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A new study published in Behavioral Neuroscience suggests that giving birth causes the brains of mothers to grow in certain areas.  The study compared brain size soon after birth with brain size months later and concluded that the gray matter of the brain increased by a significant amount.  The specific areas of the brain that were affected deal with maternal motivation, reward and emotion processing, sensory integration, and reasoning and judgment.  All of these areas are relevant to child-rearing (although you could make a case that every area of the brain is related in some fashion to child-rearing).

It shouldn’t be surprising that the female brain reacts to giving birth and caring for a child.  After birth, females are flooded with hormones like estrogen, oxytocin and prolactin, and first-time mothers are learning an entirely new set of skills, including surviving on little sleep, coming bolt awake at the first murmurings of a waking infant, and mastering the interpretation of baby cries to determine whether a child is starving, dealing with a poop-filled diaper, or just lonely for Mom’s smiling face.

Not surprisingly, the study did not include the impact of having a child on the brains of new fathers.  My guess would be that any such study would conclude that the birth of a child does nothing to divert the male brain from its long, gradual slide to eventual senility.  While maternal brains respond energetically to new stimuli, sluggish paternal brains just hope to get some sleep.

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The BBC has a story today on one of those odd scientific studies that seek to confirm what everybody already believes.  In this case, the study attempts to assess the impact of mothering on children.  Psychologists evaluated the interactions between mothers and their infants during a routine check-up with the children were only eight months’ old, and those now fully grown children were then asked to respond to survey questions 30 years later. 

Not surprisingly, the study found that when mothers are expressively loving and supportive, their children are better situated to deal with distress and to develop effective life, social, and coping skills.  The children of emotionally cold mothers, on the other hand, have more difficulty dealing with anxiety.  There is a limit to the developmental effectiveness of maternal warmth, however.  The study concluded that over-mothering can be “intrusive and embarrassing.”

So, the study supports what we already knew instinctively:  that mothers make a difference in the lives of their children.  For those mothers who are prone to feeling inadequate — and what Mom isn’t? — the study also will cause them to fret that they have ruined their kids’ lives by neglecting to give a hug or warm words of support at a crucial moment. 

I won’t have thought it possible that mothers could be made to feel even more guilty about their parenting skills, but this study probably accomplishes that.  Isn’t science wonderful?

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This is a horrible story about an 11-year-old girl who was kidnapped and spent 18 years in some private enclave, where she has borne two children fathered by her kidnapper, who just happens to be a registered sex offender.  It is impossible to imagine how the victim, now a 29-year-old woman, has been traumatized and twisted by such an unbearably awful experience.

This kind of story is every parent’s nightmare.  When your children are of tender age, you try to watch them as best you can — while at the same time avoiding the “helicopter syndrome,” where you are hovering around wherever they are and whatever they are doing.  In this particular case, the young girl was kidnapped as she walked home from the school bus stop, in full view of her stepfather.

Parenting involves making everyday judgments about what is best for your child and your family.  Every parent makes thousands of decisions about whether their child should attend a party, spend the night at a friend’s house, go on a camping trip, stay after school for a club meeting, or engage in hundreds of other activities.  You do the best you can to be sure that your child is safe and secure, and then you read this kind of story about what can happen despite your best efforts.  My guess is that, after reading this story, some parents will hover a bit closer.

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