Actually, in my mind its a rant about helicopter parents who can’t leave their kids unsupervised for ten minutes. I share a back yard with the cul-de-sac neighbors, the bus behavior is part of a pattern that includes mom standing outside while her teenaged son shoots baskets and not letting him hangout at the park by himself (he’s fourteen). Since she has two, this means that the daughter is doing whatever the son is doing or she has them in separate supervised activities simultaneously. These kids haven’t been outside their house without adult eyes on them since they were babies (at least, not if Mom has been able to help it).
Maybe its sour grapes - my kids haven’t met her ''approved playmate"standard since they were three and four because I said “its a little dirt, it isn’t going to kill them.” She took her kids out of my yard and we haven’t played with those kids since.
Just leave the crappy, disinterested parents alone. When their kids don’t return their calls, visit only at Christmas, and dump them in a crappy nursing home, you’ll have all the smug satisfaction you want. My parents treated me like they actually enjoyed spending time with me, and now they suppress a chuckle when the other parents complain that their kids never talk to them anymore. Jeez, I wonder when they learned to care so little?
OK, there. Now we’ve both made stupid cartoons out of one another’s positions, that allow us to feel like we’ve won. Except I don’t actually believe what I wrote above. And if you really mean that nonsense about “smug satisfaction,” than it is so sad, and silly, and embarassing for you. It reeks of desperate insecurity about your own choices.
I don’t judge my parenting choices against those of others; I judge them by the results. If others make different choices, but they still produce capable, interesting humans out of their children (and assuming no one is harmed, obviously), then I think that’s great.
I think this “helicopter parent” thing has become an obstacle to useful discussion. It certainly exists: parents who control every aspect of their child’s life, refusing to allow their kids any measure of independence or responsibility. But people are so obsessed with “not being a helicopter parent” that they assign that label to things that don’t qualify by a thousand miles. There is helicopter parenting in this world. But spending ten minutes in the car with your kid before school is not equivalent to helicopter parenting, any more than not spending those ten minutes with your kid is equivalent to neglect.
You’re the guy who accused another poster of being a pedophile because he notices she gets driven to the bus stop everyday. You tell me.
Yeah, but your position is stupid, and not based on anything true about me, since you don’t know me. I’m basing my description on actual people I know, so it carries more weight.
Oh, honey, I know I’ve won.
I would be a better person if I didn’t chuckle internally when the moron parents I’ve watched for years begin to reap what they sow, you’re right. You’re wrong about being insecure about my choices though; it’s actually your offense at my laughter that reeks of desperate insecurity. IMHO, of course.
But they aren’t. Their kids aren’t capable OR interesting; they are fattened veal. I know shitloads of parents that make different choices than me, and their kids are fine. Takes all kinds and all that. But I also know parents who make different (bad) choices, and their kids suffer for it.
Again, if you don’t judge people who make deleterious decisions, good for you! You are a better person than me.
Yes, and those are the parents we’re talking about.
It doesn’t have to be, but if it’s part of a larger pattern then it certainly can be.
This nails it. The people on that side of the debate actually believe the silly characterizations they invent for people who don’t parent the same way that they do.
Let me give an example of what I’m talking about, because I fear we’re adrift in a sea of hypotheticals.
When my kids were 6 or 7 they began walking the block to school by themselves, and I had many other moms look down their noses at me and make little comments about how they would never let Jaden walk alone because of kidnappers and blah blah blah. And they didn’t make Madison do chores, they would never be so mean. And I had to stand there and smile thinly while they basically told me I’m a shitty mom who doesn’t love her kids.
And now, years later, they complain because Jaden and Madison are so lazy and they can’t do anything for themselves, and why are my kids so independent, and what do you mean they can do laundry? Why, Madison doesn’t even know how to turn the washer **on **!
So, yes, I chuckle smugly to myself. I think I earned it.
…and pretty much every other fucking comment from “Camp 2” in the thread including yourself. I daresay it is.
So perhaps you and the rest of the Dr. Benjamin Spock wannabes might wanna draw the shade from the horrors from other parenting styles that don’t fit in to your omnipiotent box of shady untruths, hypoctrical judgmentalism, logical fallacies, and intractable hand-wringing tut-tutting. Perhaps, you could consider there are many successful parenting styles. Many of which you dont have a fucking clue.
Naw fuck that this is the pit. You all can go raise your unwieldy, uncivilized, fucked up death spawn as you see fit. Child services will give you a call (assuming you didn’t pawn it for a rock or a fifth of Mad Dog) when they are picked up taking glamour shots at Uncle Barbarian’s Secret Basement Party. Strawmen are fun.
OK. You and MsWhatsit are free to enjoy your victory over the imaginary people you’ve substituted for the people to whom you’re talking. It’s startlingly easy to argue against people when you can just make up their positions for them, isn’t it?
Incidentally, if you’re under the impression that I’m angry, then I’m either communicating poorly or you’re doing more creative projection. I’m more… bemused, I guess. You’re embarrassing yourselves, and you can’t see it.
Tiffy’s mom waited 25 minutes for the bus today (it ran a little late on this first day).
25 minutes. Engine running. So she could chauffeur Tiff home in about 20 seconds flat.
This is not sensible, or defensible, behavior. However, Mrs. B. was sufficiently intrigued that she’s going to find a way to ask TiffMom about it next time they’re chatting at work.
BemusedGeorge doesn’t have the same zip. Can I still be Furious?
Need answer fast, picking up grandson from bus stop in front of the next door neighbor’s house and driving there. Some other kids might… look upon him… as one of them.
I have suburban neighbors who drive their teens to the library. The library is three blocks away. One of them kept asking me why I was walking there with my kids. Because god knows what kind of horrors I might find if I walked three blocks!I think they’d faint if they knew half the stuff I pulled as a kid growing up in Brooklyn.
Suburbia tends to bring out the lunacy in certain people.
