In the wake of this week’s public parenting spats, here’s a timely word of advice to those who feel the urgent need to pass judgement on others’ parenting skills: Pull your head in. Seriously, just back off. No one cares what you think. Especially us parents.
See, here’s the thing. Unless a kid is subjected to an unimaginably cruel form of care worthy of Community Services’ attention – like being forced upon the toddler beauty contest circuit, or made to watch Elmo’s World – then the rest of the world should butt out.
If you’ve been asleep all week, here’s what went down. First, some radio lady with a single letter surname bottle fed her baby while she crossed the road. Like that was somehow worse than half the tasteless stunts she pulls on radio.
Then Channel Seven’s Kochie and Kylie Gillies had a nice little stoush over how and when to put kids in the “naughty corner”.
Funny, isn’t it, how we live in a country where (theoretically at least) we are free to worship whichever entity we choose, eat whatever we want and sleep with whomever we fancy (as long as they fancy us back). Admonishing others for any of the above choices is a major social faux pas, and in some cases, illegal. But when it comes to parenting, hey hey! It’s always open season.
Everyone has an opinion, everyone knows what works, everyone knows best and nobody is afraid to say it. In short, we are a nation of parenting bigots. And this tendency doesn’t just manifest itself among friends, in what might loosely be termed polite society, but in the distinctly impolite arenas of radio talkback and internet forums.
It even takes place, albeit much more subtly, on bookshelves, where weighty parenting tomes compete to tell you that they and they are alone are the experts on what makes good parenting, courtesy of the author’s veritable alphabet of qualifications from Psychobabble University.
Fact is, parenting is a gut thing. If your kid is covered in bruises and bed sores, chances are you’re doing it wrong. If your kid’s smeared in blue icing and mud with the odd honestly-earned knee scab or two, you’re probably doing it more or less right.
I’ve got two kids and I’ve never read a parenting manual. Possibly there’s a page in the bestselling manual that says you shouldn’t do minigolf every week because your child will develop an irrational fondness for green felt and grow up to be a pool hustler. There may also be a page that says fairy bread is just for parties, not breakfast. I don’t know. I guess it’s just too bad if there is.
All I know is, my kids are happy most of the time, and don’t cower in fear the day after I’ve yelled at them or sent them to their rooms. Which suggests to me that the parenting balance my wife and I have struck is somewhere in the zone of acceptability.
Celebrity culture is obviously largely to blame for our obsession with others’ parenting. Celebs parade their kids around like the latest fashion accessory, the women’s mags bestow judgement on their parenting skills (or lack thereof), and all of a sudden, we all weigh in with our two cents’ worth.
But that’s only half the problem. The underlying issue that dare not speaketh its name is competitiveness. Somewhere, somehow, the act of parenting has become something more than trying to keep your kids healthy and happy. It has become an act of one-upmanship.
We all know the cliché of the soccer parent on the sideline embarrassingly egging his or her kids on, when really, they’re cheering on their own lost dreams.
But how many of us are doing exactly the same when we weigh into public debates about parenting like the ones that raged this week?
Parenting has become such a competitive game, especially on the schooling side of things, that there’s a fair argument we’re all letting off our pent-up angst when we cast judgement openly on celebrity parents, and more furtively, on our peers.
Maybe we should all just put a sock in it. I couldn’t care about how or where Jackie O feeds her baby any more than I care how or where she feeds her dog Kyle, if indeed that is her dog’s name.
And I couldn’t care less whether you or anyone else dresses their kids in muumuus. In fact, I’m not the slightest bit interested or perturbed by any aspect of anyone else’s parenting, nor do I expect them to have any opinions towards mine.
That said, I do feel overwhelmingly compelled to point out that my son got three holes-in-one in mini golf last week. I bet yours didn’t.
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