Select Page

Parents, a Parent’s Worst Nightmare

When my kids were little I had a friend who said:

“The hardest part of parenting is other parents.”

I wonder if that is the one universal truth about parenting.

Parenting is as partisan as religion or politics. I know that as an organic, “feel-your-way-through” parent, for example, I am an abomination to parents who thoroughly researched their parenting strategy. Pure food parents freak out at hot-dog- and-s’mores parents.  Parents who leave kids alone for hours with art supplies or glue and pine cones sneer at structured activity parents.

Haven’t we all had moments when another parent looked at us in horror? They viewed the snacks we chose as if we were feeding the soccer team Fugu, the poisonous puffer fish.  They can’t believe our kids are in daycare, or homeschooled, or allowed to watch that television program, or forced to read that book or tattooed.

Because I lack a parenting dogma and because I am a single mom whose kids’ father passed away, and because I am me, such looks of horror used to knock me into self-doubt.  Over the years I developed a veritable Greek chorus of recrimination which started the moment I made a decision.

Recently, my kids—aged 15, 17, and 19—and I took a road trip. I announced at the beginning of the trip that no one was allowed, while we were driving, to read a book or plug into an iPod or in any way deliberately disengage from the group. If they really needed a few minutes to check out of the general conversation and process something, that’s okay. Otherwise, we all listen to music or a book on tape or we talk.

The reason for this is that I really love sharing the road trip experience and I really hate feeling like a bus driver. I end up resentful and lonely and it spoils the trip for me.  Generally, my kids understand and don’t mind. But then one of my kids started sneak reading—if you can imagine—and I confronted him and the Greek Chorus started up in my head.

What is wrong with you you crazy woman? It demanded. You won’t let your kid READ?

Then came Teen Mom Expert: You should give your kids permission to check out.  They’re TEENAGERS for Pete’s Sake!

Perfect Mother chimed in: Moms don’t get to threaten that they will be whiny babies because they’re lonely and feel like bus drivers. Moms must accept being bus drivers.

And then came The Psychotherapist: Your expectation that your kids will connect with you isn’t normal. It will make them neurotic, dependent and psychologically enmeshed.

For a few minutes, these thoughts really threw me. Should I just announce the kids can all read and do what they want while I drive? But then I thought about what that would look like and feel like. And then I reminded myself that they had lots of time in their lives to be disconnected and we only had a few years left to be connected in this kind of trip. So I left the moratorium intact.

I have an advantage over some parents and over where I used to be. I have three children who are nearly grown and who are—in my estimation—extraordinary, wonderful people who seem likely to succeed wildly in life. I have evidence in them that my wacky parenting techniques have merit.

I couldn’t have asserted that ten years ago, but now I feel pretty confident about it. All of which has led me to believe that if I did have a dogma, this would be it: By and large, parenting is a personal journey undertaken by fallible, diverse human beings experimenting on rearing other fallible, diverse human beings.

Granted, there are some things no parent should do. Cruelty, abuse, manipulation and favoritism come to mind. Spoiling to the point where the kid is handicapped by it is another. But that’s my list. We all have areas where we’re strong and where we stink. Sometimes other people need to point out our failures.  I’ve gotten such correction from sisters and friends. It stirs a tidal wave of negative emotion in me. But they were usually right.

Still, there are lots of good ways to raise kids. I know a couple who raised their children on a boat. When the kids were little, they were always tethered to something. Those kids grew up to be world travelers. I know a single dad who was in the military and moved around a lot. His daughters seemed capable of adapting to every situation.  Some people live in the same house all their childhoods and have that base of security. Some families are small and the parents can give more individual attention and others are large and the kids have each other as a support system all their lives.

Some parents are careful to make sure their kids have everything they need for a “normal” life: the sports experiences and clothes and birthday parties. Other parents raise kids from an internal compass that doesn’t concern itself with social relevance.

And the result of all this, all these people raising children in these willy nilly ways and teaching them different sets of values and ideas and rules is…us, humanity, a garden of great variety. Which I think is a good thing.