What Parent Type Are You?

When I was growing up, there were only 2 parenting styles: strict and lenient.  It did not matter whether you were that parent's own child or someone else's. If you got into trouble or did something wrong, you received an immediate correction by whoever's parent was closest to the center of activity.

Growing up, my brothers and I learned the hard way never to misbehave in the car. We were sure that during childbirth, God gave our mother a second set of eyes which were located in the back of her head. When she napped, we would pick at her hair trying to find those eyes.

We knew they had to be hidden behind somewhere in that giant 1970's beehive of a hairdo, but we never could find them. No person, without a set of eyes in the back of their head, could see the way she could.  She always knew which child was instigating trouble. She could drive the car perfectly while backhanding any misbehaving kids in the backseat faster than Superman could change clothes in a phone booth.

Between our mother and the other mothers in the neighborhood, all the kids in the neighborhood were watched to see what we were doing. This scrutiny meant we learned right from wrong at a very early age.

Things have changed dramatically since I grew up.  One of the biggest changes has been the creation of so many different parenting labels. There are so many different labels used to describe how a mother chooses to rear her child(ren), it could confuse Dr. Spock.

Tiger, Helicopter, Free-Range, Elephant, Little-Emperor, and Lighthouse Moms are just to name a few. The labels all seem to have a defining characteristic: you are either an animal or a machine.

Personally, I don't want to be known as an Elephant Mom. The older I get, the more I battle ankle wrinkles. I've also heard as you age, your ears and nose never stop growing. Put these issues together and Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus may send me an invitation to join the circus.

While I may be a redhead with a fiery temper, calling me a Tiger Mom might get you a close-up view of my retractable claws.

Since I grew up believing I was a princess, raising my child like a Little-Emperor would totally be a conflict of interest. I'm really not prepared to share my tiara.

When I hear people discussing the Free-Range label, I don't imagine kids playing outside on their own and growing through self-exploration. I see a bunch of hens pecking for feed around a chicken coup. It takes me back to the 1970's Saturday morning television shows featuring the Looney Tunes cartoon character Foghorn Leghorn, who is always playing pranks on the Barnyard Dawg, and is usually on the losing end of his own prank.

If parenting labels had more flair, I might be more inclined to associate my style with them.  There could be the Audrey Hepburn Mom - one who not only teaches their children to have a classic personal style and speak 5 different languages, but to be gracious and give of themselves to help others. I could definitely get into wearing chic sunglasses and big hats, but am thinking the mismatched hodgepodge clothing style of my son may exclude us from this label.

There is also the June Cleaver Mom. She not only keeps her house perfectly clean with two sons tracking heavens knows what into it, she would shoo her boys out of the house daily for exercise and sunshine.  Dinner was served promptly in the dining room where no electronic devices interrupted the dinner conversation, and she always wore pearls.

The children's homework would always be complete ahead of the due date and their rooms would be clean.  They may even get their children to shower daily without begging and pleading. Considering my children's penchant for waiting until the last minute to do 3 weeks worth of homework projects the night before they are due, and that the only way my kids' rooms will be clean is if the empty snack pouches are carried away by the Godzilla size dust bunnies, I'm thinking our admission application for this parenting label will be denied.

In reality, I probably fall into the Slacker Mom label. I don't create a schedule for my children's projects because I require them to do it. I am not very creative or inventive and never made sandwiches into animals or pancakes shaped like Disney characters. I slapped food on a paper plate, said "Mmmm.... Yum! Eat up!", and they ate....... usually.

My children aren't overscheduled. I sign them up for one sport at a time and I'm doing good to remember what days/times to get them to their activity. If I'm really on the ball, my kids will have finished eating dinner before we are in the car on the way to their sporting event.

I would love to be the mom who is ultra-organized and has everyone's schedule entered into the calendar on her phone, which is synced to her computer, laptop, and tablet. I admire the woman who sorts her children's daily school paperwork and immediately addresses each item, versus letting it pile up until it becomes a fire hazard.

When it comes down to it though, does it really matter what kind of parenting style you have, so long as you are actually involved and parenting your children? Do we really need one more label in this world?

Christie Bielss

World's Longest Umbilical Cord

What is the world's longest umbilical cord?  The cell phone. 

I saw a Kindergartner carrying a cell phone at my kids' school the other day.  He was texting his parent, who was already in the school's pick-up line, to find out how far back she was and how long he'd have to wait for her to arrive at the pick-up zone.

I love my kids more than life itself and maybe I'm old school, but when I drop my kids off at school, I really don't want an open line of communication with them.  When I pick them up from school, we have a nice face-to-face conversation about their day.  I get to hear all about the amount of gas they passed, what little Johnny did on the playground that embarrassed all the girls, and how little Sally makes them gag at lunch because she refuses to chew with her mouth closed.

I'm pretty sure if my kids had a cell phone in elementary school, I'd receive picture texts all day long showing them standing in line for the water fountain, waiting their turn to use the restroom, or what little Sally looks like with her mouth full of food.

A mom told me she likes to text her child during the day and tell them she loves them.  To keep up with the Jones' without a cell phone, I got the idea to send a Post-It note in my children's lunches that said "I Love You!".  When I picked them up from school that day, they were so embarrassed by my gesture, they had their jackets over their heads so no one would recognize them.  I decided not to ask if it was also because I'd cut their sandwiches into the shape of a heart.

Another mom told me she volunteers at the school every single day and, to show her support of her child's education, sits with her child through a number of the child's classes.  I went up for my kids' class party and within 15 minutes I was ready to run for the hills.  My escape was thwarted though when my bum became wedged in the little kid-sized chair.  After several failed attempts to get up, I had to ask another mom to hold the chair while I tried to get up.  My exit from the chair was about as graceful as a combined episode of "I Love Lucy" meets "The Three Stooges".

After that episode, I realized I'm not meant to keep up with the Jones'.  I throw my kids' sandwiches in their lunch box and usually end up smushing their drink on top of their cookies.  If I've remembered to include in their lunch the four basic food groups, a drink, and a napkin, then I'm doing pretty good.

I support their education by hounding them to do their homework every day.  There is a lot of gnashing and grinding of teeth, pulling of hair, spilling of tears, and begging that happens every single day............ and that's just on my part.

No, I wasn't cut out to be a helicopter parent who hovers over their child's every decision and move.  I am just your regular average parent.  I am thrilled with my children's successes and I try to raise them up through their failures.  I have hope that one day they will instinctively know when life throws a curve ball and knocks them down, they can raise themselves back up on their own two feet.  I pray they both know I will be standing on the sidelines cheering them on every step of the way....... without having to text it to them while they're in school, or sit through their classes with them.

by: Christie Bielss