Who's Really the Nincompoop Here?

First, let it be known that because I have the sense of humor of a 4-year old, the word nincompoop still cracks me up. Mostly because it contains the word, "poop". Obviously, that, coupled with my obsession over all things helicopter parenting meant that I had to read this: Are We Raising a Generation of Nicompoops? It is currently the most e-mailed article on Boston.com - and has been for over 5 days.

On reading however, I was sorely disappointed in what I found. Rather than another interesting commentary on the ill effects of helicopter parenting as children come of age, it was an unintentional slam on the parents themselves. So, I thought it would be fun to dissect the article here (feel free to play along and add your two cents!):

1. Susan Maushart, a mother of three, says her teenage daughter "literally does not know how to use a can opener. Most cans come with pull-tops these days. I see her reaching for a can that requires a can opener, and her shoulders slump and she goes for something else."

My Thoughts: Um...your daughter literally will not know how to use a can opener if she's never been shown. Clearly, you have one in your home because you have inferred here that not all cans in your larder have pop-tops. You have witnessed the dejected sag of her slender shoulders as she realizes that, yet again, she is foiled by a can and may not partake of her snack of choice. And yet...you have not stepped in to demonstrate the fine art of utilizing the most ancient of all tools - the can opener?!

You, Ma'am, have failed.

Nincompoop Score:
Kids - 0
Parents - 1

2. Teenagers are so accustomed to either throwing their clothes on the floor or hanging them on hooks that Maushart says her "kids actually struggle with the mechanics of a clothes hanger."

My Thoughts: You allow your kids the luxury of throwing their clothing on the floor. I will assume here that you pick them up for them. You've given them pegs to utilize. You admit to have seen them struggle with a hanger. Please see comment #1. Again, Ma'am, you have failed.

Nincompoop Score:
Kids - 0
Parents - 2

3. Many kids never learn to do ordinary household tasks. They have no chores. Take-out and drive-through meals have replaced home cooking. And busy families who can afford it often outsource house-cleaning and lawn care.

My Thoughts: How? Why? Our toddler has "chores" if you count the fact that we ask her to put her sneakers in the hallway after she takes them off, and we ask her to clean up her toys at the end of the day. I'll have her put her dirty clothes in her hamper and she throws away rubbish without being asked. Age appropriate chores, but in a sense, chores nonetheless.

Drive through and take away are luxuries - expensive and unhealthy ones 9 times out of 10. Even families I know who have 12 hour days before they get home and start dinner typically cook, especially now, especially in this economy. Granted, that's anecdotal. But it's my experience and the concepts in this paragraph are so foreign to me that I'm afraid the parents lose this round again. Clearly, chores and home cooked meals can happen. These parents simply choose to not have them happen.

Nincompoop Score:
Kids - 0
Parents - 3

4. "It's so all laid out for them," said Maushart, author of the forthcoming book "The Winter of Our Disconnect," about her efforts to wean her family from its dependence on technology. "Having so much comfort and ease is what has led to this situation -- the Velcro sneakers, the Pull-Ups generation. You can pee in your pants and we'll take care of it for you!"

My Thoughts: So, Miss Maushart is actually trying to wean her family off of the technology that she chose to raise them with. Interesting. That aside: Velcro is great for right now. Our 2 year old can fasten her own shoes. However, I do note that shoes with laces are still in great abundance (and velcro was around when I was a wee lass, yet I still know how to tie my shoes...) and as kids age, there's nothing stopping a parent from buying them.

Pull-ups factor heavily in our lives at  the moment - or perhaps they don't? After all, it's only during very long car rides, naps, or bedtime that Miss A wears them. She's getting goood at this "using a toilet" thing. And she's only 2! Imagine that. Teching a kid that peeing in your pants isn't for life...wow.

[sigh] This is really getting depressing.

Nincompoop Score:
Kids - 0
Parents - 4

5. The issue hit home for me when a visiting 12-year-old took an ice-cube tray out of my freezer, then stared at it helplessly. Raised in a world where refrigerators have push-button ice-makers, he'd never had to get cubes out of a tray -- in the same way that kids growing up with pull-tab cans don't understand can openers.

My Thoughts: OK. Really?! 99% of the homes I've been in, either my own or friends' or acquaintances, have normal fridges with freezers that require ice cube trays. In fact, my own fridge does have an ice maker (though it's not an "in-door" model), but we have no water line to connect it to. So, we use ice cube trays. Just like most of the canned goods in our larder, and so many others, require an opener (have you noticed that a pop top actually adds a buck or more to the price?!), so we must suffer in what's apparently viewed as neolithic servitude - slaves to our manual kitchens that do nothing for us, never mind wipe our bums too.

Nincompoop Score:
Kids - 0
Parents - 5

This is too depressing. I think I'll stop here and call it a loss for the parents.

Now, while I'm the first to gleefully admit that I can't wait to be of that age where I can scream at kids to get off'n my lawn...and I've certainly been known to go off on my own, "KIDS THESE DAYS CONSARN'T" rants and raves (usually after a cherub-faced 6 year old tells me to "F**k off"), I will also be the first to come to the defense of the youth of today when they are unfairly maligned.

It's not the kids who are the nincompoops here. It's the parents who never taught them; who never made the time; who value the material and ease over anything else. I also suspect that the number of kids who are like those in the scenarios culled from the original article and noted above is vastly smaller than those who aren't - and it's totally unfair to use them to paint a generational picture like this. Let's call it like it is: There Is a Generation of Nincompoops Passing Their Nincompoopery Along to Their Offspring.

Never Mind Hanging Up and Driving. Hang Up, Tune In, and Parent!

Early last week, before my TDY (translated to civilian-ese, "business trip"), I stumbled across a rather poorly written OpEd piece on distracted parenting. While I felt that the piece lacked cohesion or a good conclusion, the central point was clear (if only because I'm a parent). Parents who don't focus on their babies' needs or who interact with them in a vague manner fail to teach them key things about themselves and the world around them.

I remember reading up on newborns when A fell into that category of child - and thinking, "This makes perfect sense". Babies imitate. Your faces are their meter for their actions. Your expressions and tones teach them about the world around them and their relationship with you. In fact, time and again, experts emphasize the fact that the best new baby toy you can "get" for your child is...your face and your voice.

With that in mind, both M and I focused on A. We talked to one another on the phone when she was sleeping and hung up straight away when she woke or screamed or cried. We didn't let TV or telephones or even music distract us while we fed her or interacted with her. In fact, for the first almost 12-months of her life, the TV was on all day - tuned to the classic music channel. Nothing to watch and soothing music all around helped avoid distractions.

Now, of course, things have changed. A is a toddler and a very independent one at that, but I haven't been able to help but notice more and more "distracted parents" when we're out and about.

In Faneuil Hall's North Market on Sunday evening, a young baby began crying while his mother sat, eating her dinner and yelling into her cell phone. As his cries got more persistent and angry, she raised her voice to be heard and idly messed with the carriage. It took 10 minutes (yes, I timed it) before she finally took him out

Un-Schooling - Child-Centered or Parental Laziness?

A few days ago over at In the Parenthood, Lylah M. Alphonse asks us, "Would you support your teen's decision to drop out of high school?" Most of the answers in the comment section were predictable - parents stating that they'd drag their child kicking and screaming if necessary;  that anyone who lets their kid do this is trying to be cool, hip, a friend and is, therefore, a bad parent.

I take a slightly different view because, frankly, in spite of my parents very best efforts, I was a wayward child and no amount of punishment, discipline, dragging (kicking and screaming inncluded), or other more serious efforts could curb my desire to live life on my terms, in my way. So, I support a parent who realizes that ultimately, there comes a time in a child's life when the parent has exhausted all available options except for prison (which seems a wee bit extreme here...) and it may be easier to support their child in their endeavors than fighting them tooth and nail.

But this afternoon, I came across a flipside to this coin: Un-schooling. At first blush (a light, grazing, almost non-existent blush at that), un-schooling seems to be an interesting method of exposing your children to the world. No cirriculum, no tests, child-driven learning through-and-through....a little like Montessori on serious steroids. Except, after reading more in depth and checking out this Nightline article where an un-schooler and her family were observed at "work", I had some serious questions about the veracity of this "radical, new school of thought".

Corporal Punishment. It's Not Actually a B-Movie.

Spanking. To some parents, it’s a word synonymous with abuse. To others, it’s not really a big deal and it is, indeed, incorporated as a tool for use in their individual discipline structures for their kids. But no matter what side of the fence you live on, it’s a hot button issue sure to spark debate (if you’re lucky) and flame wars (if you’re not).


With that in mind, it was with a little bit of dread that I clicked on the Circle of Moms featured discussion the other day – “How Do You Feel About Spanking/Swats/Butt Busting”. My first thought was, “Butt Busting”? WTF is…who the $%^# calls it that unless you’re using a belt on a bare bottom?! (M tells me that it's actually a porn thang that has nothing to do with children or discipline. I suspected as much. Ew.)
I am not a spanker. I am not against those who are and I do believe in the freedom of families to choose discipline or punishment that is within the confines of the law – and that works for them. In fact, I was spanked. A lot. I also had my ass busted a few times. It left a very definitive mark on my personality, never really curbed the transgressions it was meant to (just made me a little more clever at hiding my tracks) but I would hardly say that I was abused…and I love and respect the parent that meted out the punishment.

Yet…we don’t do it. Odd that, given that both of us knew corporal punishment as kids and, let’s face it,

For the Love of Anonymous Vitriol

Unfortunately, in recent weeks, the job that pays has taken precedence over everything except my family life and I haven’t been able to be as productive in my writing (obviously) as I would like. I feel like we haven’t talked, you and I, so let’s do that. Tonight, let’s talk about choice. More specifically, let’s talk about lifestyle choices – to have children or not – and what, if anything, that really means. Let’s talk, too, about how we teach our kids to deal with the choices they make and how things have changed since we were on the playground.

I got to thinking about this after reading Erica Noonan’s latest column, Will the Real Childfree Movement Please Stand Up? Ms. Noonan has, apparently, just learned of the existence of the so-called, “Childfree Movement” and is a little put off, as is evidenced by her writing.

Communication - A Dying Grace?

Leah K. over at Working (on) Motherhood posed a question to the community of parents that she serves so well today: Do you swear around your kids? Her piece, along with the question and answers brought me back to my very own thoughts on language and communication, not just with respect to swearing but in the way we communicate in general - and how we're teaching these skills (or not) to our own kids.

My own personal "Blue" vocabulary is possibly more extensive than the rest of my vocabulary. I like to think that being in a male dominated, military profession has truly helped me hone my ability to string profane words together into a higher art form. It's true - I've seen battle hardened Marines get tear eyed, moved by the sheer beauty of my words.

There is, of course, an inherent danger in this use of vulgar language. It mostly lies in the fact that people can no longer tell when you are, in fact, really angry. To compensate for this, when I am angry, I don't swear at all. And on those rare occasions when my rage is so white hot and finely tuned and directed that it makes anger look like puppy dog kisses and rainbows, I don't even yell. On those occasions, the words, "Time, Distance and Shielding" are given new, more urgent meaning.

There are those among the intelligentsia who will shake their heads sadly and point out that vulgar and profane language really only serves to make the speaker (or spewer, if you will) appear ignorant, uneducated, backwards and stupid. I do like to believe that none of those traits apply to me in a more general sense, although on some issues and topics I will cop to being all of the above plus a few not mentioned.

Yet somehow, it seems that today, profanity is less profane than it used to be. In fact, it's the ability to converse and communicate eloquently, succinctly and clearly that seems to be a dying grace. And it is a grace. So why do people find it to sound so old fashioned? James Parker, contributing editor to The Atlantic, recently wrote an OpEd in praise of Laughing Babies and the voice he chose was a high tone, with tongue firmly planted in cheek. I loved it. There were adjectives used in such a way that I haven't seen in print since my literature classes in college. But some commenters didn't and an argument broke out in the comments section over the tone he chose. He was accused of speaking like an "alien" visiting earth. [sigh]

I myself have one or two words in my arsenal that extend beyond two syllables (and I can even spell them!) and I absolutely believe that that face we put forth to the world at large says less than the utterances issued forth from said face. Accents, colloquialisms, slang and just general poor language skills do indeed detract from our ability to have others take us seriously.

In fact, I see this a lot in blogs. While I'm very aware that my proofing skills need work, I have read some publicly posted blogs on this worldwide web of ours that, frankly, make me want to stab my eyes out. It's not because I disagree with the point that the author is trying to convey, but because there are only so many "for all intensive purposes" I can take in one paragraph and, frankly, because text speak makes you sound like a moron.

By now you're wondering what any of this has to do with parenting, I'm sure. Well, it all comes back to what we teach our children, doesn't it? While we celebrate first words and encourage the language waterfall, what are we actually, unwittingly, passing on in our manners of speech?

My daughter won't inherit a Boston accent. It's a dying breed and I don't have one. I am, however, afraid that she may inherit my chronic and totally voluntary Tourrette's. One day not long ago, I let loose with a string of some of my most Prosaic Profanity to date while driving to the store. When I was done, I felt better, but it was short lived after I heard a giggle from the back seat. I took that moment to turn my tirade in to a learning experience..."Honey," I said oh-so-sweetly, "I'm sorry. Those are Mommy's driving words and they're not very nice. Please disregard them." I swear, she snorted sarcastically at me.

Now, I swear in German. It's no better if you're a native German speaker, but most people around us aren't (well, except for one of our closest friends who is...) and hell, if Eliot on Scrubs can get away with yelling, "FRICK!" 50 times an episode (yes, that is German for "F**k"), then it can't be that bad, right? Yet, there is an alarming number of babes in our neighborhood whose speech is unintelligible, except for those bits pepperd with profanity. It's shocking when I hear it from a 7 year old who uses it the way that I do, as an integral part of his vocabulary.

It does make me wonder what we, as a generation of parents, are actually teaching our offspring about the value of diction, elocution and having a broad vocabulary. Creative licensing aside, it seems as though the Ugly American has returned from Continental Holiday and is taking over our own streets once again.

Whatever my own linguistic shortcomings, I do hope that I can show our daughter how to rise above and teach her that speaking intelligently and listening critically are not, in fact, bad traits at all.

What about you? Do you swear around your kids? Do you put a focus on communication in your household or do you think it's all much ado about nothing?