Hi. My name is Mary, and I need this parenting post as much as anyone. I just happen to also be writing it. I’m certainly not a model parent, and I don’t have all the secrets to raising your child like it’s 1959, or whenever your “Golden Age of Parenting” might take place. It is my hope that you will take this post in the spirit in which it is intended.
I recently saw a post about how someone moved their children out of the United States, and it was the best parenting decision they’ve ever made. I have friends who live in Peru, and they seem to be bestowing upon their children an idyllic, slow-paced, old-world life that I can only dream of giving my own little army.
But here’s the thing: I love the United States. I want to raise my children here. Plus, moving out of the country simply isn’t in the game plan.
I just don’t want them to be little technology zombies who lose their ever-loving minds when the power goes out. And I certainly want to make sure when they get older they will be functional, somewhat sane, contributing members of society.
So here is where I offer you my two cents, on ways to raise your children to be Good People that don’t include picking up your family and moving to Iceland or France or Bolivia or whatever magical land it is that you think your children will be better people.
Reasonable Screen Time Limits
When I was expecting my first child, I read all the literature about how no child should watch television before age two or age twenty-seven or whatever, and I completely subscribed to it, until real life happened. Especially after Child Two and Child Three happened. Don’t get me wrong — I didn’t plunk a newborn down in front of a movie and take a nap. I tried to keep my third baby from watching TV with her big brother and sister as much as I could, but let’s be realistic. If they’re doing it, it must be the greatest thing ever.
My biggest foe is The Tablet. Yes, I have downloaded educational apps, but if I would let them they would keep their eyes glued to that tablet all day long, every day. And while a tablet binge is okay from time to time, having an apocalyptic meltdown every time they aren’t allowed to have tablet time is a definite sign that things are not going well.
Outside Play
Please allow me to be the first mom to admit that I DO. NOT. like going outside. I aspire to be an outdoorsy person. However, since I seem to be the most desirable delicacy the mosquitoes of Planet Earth have ever tried, The Great Outdoors is a lot better in theory than in execution.
In addition, my children and I are what I like to affectionately call Almost Albino. We are almost vampiric in our ability to burst into flames after a small amount of time in the sun. And we are not those people who burn once and then have a nice tan. Nope, after we burn, we go back to being Casper the Friendly Ghost.
The good news is, my children love being outside. They ride their scooters and their bikes and their various Cozy Coupes and other ride-on toys, they draw with sidewalk chalk, they bounce on the trampoline, and they beg to be pushed on the swings. {My favorite unheralded childhood milestone is that moment that your child figures out how to pump on the swings. God bless the kiddos in my daughter’s kindergarten class for teaching her!}
Unfortunately, we do not live in Sheriff Andy Taylor’s Mayberry, nor do we live down the street from Beaver Cleaver in 1950’s Idyllic Safe Childhood World. Sending my children outside by themselves without an armed guard just isn’t on the menu.
Chores {The C-Word}
{Okay, I’m still cackling to myself over the Arrested Development episode about the Seaward. I’ll stop now.}
It’s not easy to get today’s children to peel themselves away from the TV or the tablet and get them to do chores. And sadly, they don’t hop to it with glee like cartoon bunnies and squirrels do for Disney princesses.
The hardest part of making sure my children do chores is the learning curve. It takes them F-O-R-E-V-E-R to do what I can do in five minutes. {This does not include the compulsory whining session that comes before the actual chore is done.} It takes an Olympic-worthy amount of patience to allow them to do something that is not up to your own standards.
This does not mean that it’s not worth it! Watching my 4-year-old do a disastrous job with the broom and dustpan is horrifying. But if it means that one day I won’t have to worry about the floor being swept, well, I guess I can endure.
And my 6-year-old, being {duh} way too short to reach upper cabinets, has to stop and move her stool approximately 5.6 billion times during the course of emptying the dishwasher. {I also have to look the other way so that I don’t have a panic attack.}
And my not-quite-2-year-old puts everything from my genuine Hawaiian lei to her dishes and her siblings’ clothes in the trash on a regular basis. However, she also rivals our vacuum cleaner in her attention to detail, picking up microscopic crumbs from the floor and diligently putting them in the trash can. {So really, as long as I keep my eye on the contents of our trash, this is a win.}
Manners
Just because you’re raising your sweet baby in ‘Murica doesn’t mean he or she will automatically be a mouth-breathing narcissist whose sole means of communication is grunts.
Hint: This is where parenting comes in.
I’m definitely not speaking from some parenting throne here. But I do insist that my children look people in the face then they are speaking to them, and they say “please” and “thank you” {even if it sometimes nearly kills us both}, and they cover their mouths when they sneeze or cough. I would say this is the bare minimum, but after being around other people’s darlings, it seems that my idea of “minimum” is not universal.
Curb the Materialism
*deep breath* This is the one that I need the most.
Just because your child has one Octonauts figurine and loves it doesn’t mean you need to buy the whole set. There is this great thing called imagination. Kids are great at it if you let them be.
Just because you find something at the Salvation Army that they will love doesn’t mean you have to take it home to them. What they don’t know won’t hurt them. Or, if you can’t resist, stash it and save it for Christmas or birthday.
Between too-frequent trips to the Salvation Army {affectionately nicknamed “The Sal” by our family} and our Amazon Prime account, this is often my biggest hurdle in parenting. The toys have taken over our house. Part of this is because my children love the same kinds of toys I used to love to play with, so I end up living vicariously through them, and it’s a slippery slope.
Children in the Operation Christmas Child videos are overwhelmingly excited to get ONE TOY. They will cherish that toy for the rest of their lives. Remember Kirsten Larson, the American Girl? It made a huge impression on me that she had her rag doll Sari, one doll, and that was it. I don’t know if I have been subconsciously overcompensating, but golly. My house has no room for humans in it, it’s so overrun with toys.
Just Live It!
Are you trying to raise your children in an old-fashioned way here in the twenty-first century? Please tell me below how you are doing it, and what works! Also share what doesn’t work, what you had for breakfast this morning, or why you think the author of this post is loco en la cabeza. I can’t wait to hear from you!
