minding

Almost Perfect!

In our culture, social forces push children and teens to look, speak, and compose themselves perfectly—achieve the perfect grades, the BMI of 20.85, the prom queen's tiara, the undefeated season.  We weigh, rank, test, measure and chart them every which way from Apgar scores to SATs.  So that our kids can achieve perfection, parenting has become a profession.

But no one can be the perfect parent or, of course the perfect child. The pendulum swings back and forth.  As a reaction to the impossible work of 'perfect' parenting, parents grow demoralized and become permissive, laissez-faire. If our children aren't perfecting themselves, we can't figure them out. What do they want? What does he need? Why can't she behave? Focused on gymnastics practice or math homework, we don't help them learn simple social graces, connect to their community, or help out around the house. They don't feel needed or appreciated. They may never understand how to pick up after themselves, write a sincere thank you note or support a sad friend because these parts of childhood don't lend themselves to perfecting

The culture of perfection is as deeply embedded as the American Dream. Our children still learn the mantra: "You can have everything you want—if your work for it." Just do it. Go for it. You'll get it all— looks, friends, honors and college admission.

Sensible adults know that this is not true. The world is not a meritocracy and luck plays an enormous role in our lives. Work hard all your life—and still you might not get what you want. We're afraid of telling that truth. But we must. We need to focus on helping our children build resilience and problem-solving skills. A securely attached confident child has a better chance in life than one who has been pushed and over-praised, and panics without a parent's tight rein for guidance and reinforcement.

"The perfect is the enemy of the good." This is a better mantra. It should be carved into the bricks at the top of every school entrance. The quest for perfectionism breeds envy, jealousy, and loss of connection.  Love and work are what make us happy—and neither require perfection.

Photo credit: tracyshaun, Creative Commons

Imaginary Friends

Just when we need a bit more proof that we don't need to schedule our child's every waking minute—or that daydreaming is not a sign of boredom, here's comes this study from researchers Dr. Evan Kidd and his colleagues at the University of Manchester. The team compared children aged between four and six years, with and without imaginary friends. The conclusion: children who engage in imaginary play or have imaginary friends are much more likely to develop empathy and sustain attention.

Through intuitive and creative role playing, your children and their imaginary friends are learning to resolve conflicts and solve problems. This study is  welcome relief for the many more mothers of one who are known to worry that their "only child" will suffer from all sorts of emotional deficits.

The ability to roam around on one's mind and find it a friendly place serves us well in later life. When we turn every thing off, we need to be able to be good company for ourselves. Children can learn this life skill young if they are given some precious time to be alone.

So, if your child has cautioned you to "be careful," do it. Don't step on Alice. Even when Alice is nowhere to be seen, tread lightly. Otherwise, you tread on their dreams. As we set a place for Elijah at the table on Passover, your child may set one for Henry or Henrietta. Let them. You never know what part of themselves they are inviting to supper.

Photo by: Maciej Chojnacki, Creative Commons

Slummy Mummy, Yummy Mummy or None of the Above?

Talking about being a mother has become mandatory—questioning and criticizing what counts as mothering, has also. Judith Warner, in Perfect Madness, captured the horror of this microscopic focus well.  A journalist, she began by raising her children in France. Occasionally she wondered if she should feed them fewer crackers, or how polluted the public swimming pool was with waste. But, in general, she did her job of writing news and raised her kids without much fuss

When she returned to the States, she was amazed. "What's up with all the over-parenting?" she asked. A few years later, after Sept 11th, she found herself wondering about the future of the world while also fretting that her child wouldn't have the proper amount of "Dora the Explorer" partyware. Suddenly she realized she had been caught in the same cage she'd noticed when she stamped her passport USA.

I wonder if mothers are so anxious because we really want a an objective rating. Maybe our children have become the grown equivalent of our weight or our grades. And, let's not forget, materialism thrives on anxiety. We are good if we buy things for our children, especially educational "things." As the main character in Shopaholic and Baby says, (and I paraphrase) "This is not shopping. This is providing for my unborn child."

At least she bought matching sheets, 400 count, and a duvet cover for herself and her husband.

Photo credit: buttha, Creative Commons