Parenting Books

From time to time, the Mom of No checks out a parenting book from the library.  I don't read these books because I am looking for parenting help;  I read these books because I often find the advice contained within them entertaining. These books always make solving the hardest problems seem so easy; all you need is more time, more money, a very understanding employer, or a combination of all three.  It's also apparent to me after reading a few of these books that my personal bar for parenting success is pretty darn low. No one in my house has invented some life-changing device or started his or her own million dollar company before turning 13, for example, but they do make their own lunches, so there is that.  Also, it is clear after reading some of these books that I am absolutely, without a doubt, one of the worst parents in the world.

I just finished reading a parenting book which proposed that the reason kids these days are so snarky and whiny is because parents have abdicated their parenting role.  Parents these days are too nice and over-accommodating to the whims of their offspring. Clearly, the author of this book has never set foot in the Household of No, where requests for cell phone upgrades and unlimited data plans go unanswered and the suffering is beyond measure.

As an example, the author of the "Parents are Just Too Nice" book describes an observation of his: a mother whose kid demands donuts right before boarding an airplane.   Instead of telling the kid no, she hands over the donuts.  Ergo, bad mom.  Ergo, we're all bad parents.

Sarcasm alert: We're all at our parenting best when at the airport, after waiting in the TSA line and about to board a sardine can in which we will be squished together with complete strangers.   It should be against the parenting advice rules to use examples of people parenting badly in airports to prove anything.

Also, I once snuck goldfish crackers into a church during a close family member's wedding to keep the teenager, who was then a toddler, quiet. Yes, there was a sign that said "No food or drink in sanctuary". My mind mentally amended that sign to read "No food or drink in sanctuary unless you are the parent of a toddler who can't sit still". So, who am I to judge?

The other parenting advice often given is to eat dinner together as a family.  I can respect that.  When we eat together at our house, it can turn into a hilarious affair.  But it doesn't always happen.  I suspect that none of these parenting experts have ever talked to marching band parents about dinner time.  I can imagine that discussion with the band director:

Me:  I know evening practice starts at 7, but the teenager can't be at band practice until 7:30. She has to eat dinner with the family first.
Band director:  HA HA HA HA! This is a prank call, right? (hangs up phone)

When you have a marching band kid in your household, it is essential to understand that you are not in charge.  The band schedule is in charge.  Your role as a parent is simply to facilitate absolute and unquestioned compliance with the logistical requirements of the marching band.

When my kids were younger, I would be perusing magazines in the dentist's waiting room, or in the checkout line in the grocery store, and there would be articles like "Top Nutritionists say: Start off the School Year with Fun and Nutritious Bento Boxes!". Inside, there would be cute pictures of sliced cucumbers made into cats or slices of free-range turkey made into origami swans.  Then I'd go home and remind the offspring that they were responsible for making their own PB sandwiches (neither one likes jelly, so no J).  I'd suggest carrot sticks as a healthy snack, but find out later that they went for the Cheetos, probably under the premise that both are orange and crunchy, so close enough.

It's a parenting expert's worst nightmare, I am sure.