THEY’RE YOUR KIDS, NOT YOUR FRIENDS
A cranky old lady once told me kids weren’t my friends. I wondered just what was wrong with her thinking. She had passed away by the time an editor asked me if I had any suggestions for my book title.
And here we are – They’re Your Kid, Not Your Friends – you better believe it !
I don’t mind being the bad guy. In fact, I even relish being placed in this perilous category that most parents spend a lifetime working hard to avoid.
“I’m an only child and my mother raised me so we could be best friends,” announced the twenty-something participant in one of my parent development sessions. She did this shortly after I declared friendship and parenting were entirely two different operations in life.
The young lady wasn’t alone in finding trouble with my concept, which is the title of the book I authored, “They’re Your Kids, Not Your Friends.”
Nowadays, saying no to kids has become a negotiating process as parents seem to have determined the little darlings have an active voice in the parental process of decision making.
From what’s on the breakfast menu to when or, even if, the chores will be done tend to rest in the undeveloped brain cells of our youngsters.
The kids don’t eat this and they don’t eat that and doting parents are at a loss for what to put on the table.
Many a kid (most) pull this act and that’s quite okay. The problem is with the parents who fall prey to such nonsense- and that’s all it is-unless we’re talking allergic reactions.
My young daughter was hospitalized and we found her eating,from her dinner tray ,some of the very foods she couldn’t tolerate at home. When asked about this drastic change in her choice of foods, she stared right straight at us, looking us squarely in the eye, and said, “I’m hungry.”
“I bet your kids hate you,” said a disgruntled participant in another parent development session. “Uh, huh,” groaned several others who were sitting on the back row rolling their eyes.
The job of raising kids to be responsible adults and productive members of society does not come with votes naming parents as the most popular or with awards naming us the favorite parent on the block.
Instead, a job well done comes with huge rewards when we’ve learned to stand our ground, learned to establish a value system and stick with our plan no matter what all the other kids in the neighborhood are able to get away with.
My parents were a real nuisance and so were their antiquated friends. They had no clue as to what life was really about, in part, because they were old and had never been a kid – so I thought.
But the older I got, the less unreasonable these “ruiners“of my childhood dreams became.
Parenting is not a popularity contest and when our kids catch up with us in years and experience then, and only then, are they capable of being the final word in the decision process.
But do they ever, can they ever, catch up with us in years and in experience?
I’ve never asked my kids if they loved or hated me. I don’t care. But when I look at all of them and recognize the rewards they’ve heaped upon me by having adhered to the value system I preached, I see love.
Are they my friends? Maybe, now that they’re old. Uh, no, not even now. They are forever, “My Kids and Not My Friends.”
Who are these “friendly” parents giving kids whatever they want – including Cheerios? Enjoy the comedy video.
