What I’m hearing is that we all end up becoming John Mahoney on Frasier. Not the star, maybe not supporting character, but we get a comfy chair and the best lines.
Maybe not the point of the post, but did anyone else start singing "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" when seeing the line regarding reading books about shipwrecks?
That’s the part they leave out of the Parenting Handbook, they grow up and start to do their own stuff, leaving the parents behind. It’s a slow but gradual process. You’ll still have to lug them to practices/rehearsals. There will be games and recitals to attend where you can bask in their glory. But as they grow older, those mini trips become fewer and fewer and it’ll sting. But, it then frees up more time for shipwreck books or the opportunity to try a niche activity like curling.
These posts are my favorite (a particular one where you talked about driving downtown and your kid pointing things out comes to mind). My kids are younger but I’m constantly angling for more time with them (especially 1 on 1 time) because of folks like you that don’t wait until they’re fully grown to reflect on the fleeting moments. So, even if the topic wanes here, know that you’ve helped at least one dad (in both senses of the word) keep his eye on the ball.
Scott, this is a thoughtful reflection and one I understand as my son has moved into his teenage years during the last month. What's become harder for me is that I am now in a realm where I have spent two decades being ready to provide practical, real world experience as advice to a person who absolutely has little to no interest in taking it much of the time. This is made even harder for him in that his mother is also his math teacher this year, which means not only does she know exactly what you were supposed to learn in class that day, but personally knows every single one of your teachers and wants to break down what everything in the gradebook means. But we're getting through, because well, it's what you do.
Biggest frustration of that teenage time is wanting to be the great dad still, asking questions to gain insight where you can lend some advice or offer support, and get little more than a monosyllabic grunt in response to you trying to pour your heart into them.
I feel for your son as a son of educators, Mom was a teach and Dad was a principal. I always wanted my mom to be my teacher, but she purposely moved around so not to have me or be in the same building. But looking back, yeah even though she knew all my teachers and they knew her, we both didn't have to endure the constant snitching that would have occurred. My junior high football coach hated my dad who was the high school principal, so I was constantly punished to get at my dad.
The one I am not looking forward to is three years from now when my son is taking AP U.S. History and he has the teacher that has not acknowledged that they updated the exam in 2015 (I had to tutor my niece and nephew through this issue) and trying very hard to remain professional in the face of "this is what he told us to do" and knowing he is not giving the kids the best possible information.
10th grade U.S. history teacher taught from the book we had. We had to copy notes from the board, which really was just busy work because he didn't want to teach a full 50 min period. The USSR still existed in 2002. So I feel your pain.
My wife and I split duties, but it felt especially ludicrous at the point I picked our son up from a trampoline gym to drive him straight to a nerf-gun-war facility.
Nerf-gun-war facility invokes a black and white image like a shitty AI generated cover of an Ayn Rand book of repurposed Ford production lines cranking out Nerf guns with coal-and-grease-covered child labor and it's crackin me up!
Along these lines, I had a revelation about my (similar-aged) kids recently. I've already done the vast majority of my parenting. Not in sense of the important stuff, of which there's so very much yet to come, but just in terms of volume of parenting. It's a 24/7/365 job for a short time, then it's more like high-powered executive hours for a while longer. Then they're in school all day and have their own activities and friends and you realize that you've moved into a consulting role.
Parenting tweens/teens: It's working for McKinsey, just with (hopefully) less crimes against humanity.
Your parenting perspective is one of the many reasons your newsletters are a first open. Forget your typical "emotional terrorism" this could fall into "free therapy session" as this really is a pondering parenting piece.
I saw a clip this weekend that said something along the lines of "children spend their first 7ish years being programmed for life, and then they start applying that programming and becoming their own individual" and I was struck with fear/excitement at how much time has passed by already and how close I am to that point with my oldest.
Was briefly very excited for the Bandit thinkpiece I was getting only to be knocked on my butt by reality!
I’m not quite a decade behind you, and I really ended up here because of the parenting posts. There was a good piece in vulture today about Bluey actually and why it resonates with *parents*. I appreciate where you’ve ended up with your kids, especially as someone who doesn’t post mine to social (and has to answer to grandparents, aunts and uncles about our policy and how it “doesn’t make sense”). Here’s to your stevie van zandt arc!
Your post today brought to mind an exchange we had just last night with our daughter-in-law about how her little boy, 7, was starting to set boundaries on Mommy affection, saying to her after a shower of hugs and kisses, “OK, OK, that’s enough.” She called it his elementary school big boy attitude and then tearfully and comically mused about how she needed to get in the shower to have a good cry.
Those first seven years are some of the most meaningful for parents, and I’d say for grandparents too. I never had children of my own, but was lucky enough, later in life, to marry a man with a son, who then had his own 2 children. We cared for the babies for their first 5 years, then sent them off with our blessing to a new life across the country.
Those years of care have stayed in my heart, and remain the most important and precious of my life.
Which is why Scot, your thoughts on parenting are among my favorites of all your writings because they pull at those heartstrings and reawaken those chords of love and memory.
That ending, Scott... wow. They're their own little people now, aren't they? (P.S.: I'm experiencing the same exact thing with my now 10-year-old... it is surreal.)
Since you're almost there, I'll repeat some advice I share often with parents of teens or pre-teens. When you're schlepping them and their friends around in the minivan, you'll be tempted to talk. Don't. If you blend into the steering wheel, the kids forget you're there and just talk like they would if you weren't around. (They've got Olaf's level of object-permanence.) And you can learn more about what your kids are really doing and feeling in ten minutes of listening than you'll get out of asking them directly.
More generally, I don't think I was ever the main character around here, and that has been just fine with me.
I have been someone's kid for over 70 years. (Both parents have been gone for years.) I grew up in an era when my brother and I were largely left to our own devices in our small town. We had assigned chores and were expected to do as well in school as our talents allowed. Babysitters were common throughout our lives as our parents worked evenings and weekends, often in 2 jobs each. Because they needed to sleep in, we got our own cereal before school.
When I was about 10, Mom taught me to cook simple meals for myself and my brother when she couldn't be home. (Kraft macaroni and cheese was invented around that time, a favorite.)
Though we weren't poor (we had normal clothes, toys, bikes; our parents owned our house), there was little time or money for family outings or trips. In our pre-teen years and beyond, my brother and I roamed our town all day, all summer separately with our own friends, either walking or biking, with little or no adult supervision. Our parents were seldom available to attend any events (concerts, sports) in which we participated. If we wanted to be on a team or in a club, we lived close enough to our schools to walk to them (even at night, by ourselves) as our parents weren't available to provide rides.
Values and expected behaviors were largely communicated by demands, no negotiation; often those expectations were only occasionally modeled by the adults in our lives. "Do as I say, not as I do" was a common theme. Punishment was being sent to a corner or your room; more egregious behavior prompted spankings. As we got older, grounding became the main tool.
I'm not saying it was a glorious, nostalgic childhood. Our dad had issues, so mostly we stayed out of his way. That said, I don't remember feeling neglected, though I was wistful for the homemade cookies other mothers made that my mom didn't have time for.
Whatever we felt about them at the time, now as adults we know our parents loved us, did the best they could, and generally had our best interests at heart. Despite parental deficiencies / mistakes, my brother and I still grew up to be self-sufficient, contributing adults, though it did take each of us more than one try to get marriage right.
I've not had children of my own, so I admit I'm mystified with what appears to be today's hyper-parenting. I'm not criticizing parents or saying things should be (or even can be) as they were when I grew up. But the level of parental anxiety among the young adults I know is off the charts. My heart goes out to all of you, and I hope you find peace in raising your children.
PS I think you've been very wise to keep images and details about your children out of your writing. I hope you can hold them back from participating in social media as long as possible.
There is a bright side though around this age that when the kids ask me for a glass of water despite being next to the fridge and the cabinet with reachable cups, I realize I can confidently say ‘do it yourself.’ And when they spill it all over the kitchen floor I can still say clean it yourself please, and finally when I slip on the kitchen floor several hours later and am laying there nursing my new neck injury I realize I must be in some elaborate Trueman Show style sitcom
I am one of those that always enjoys your parenting posts and it is one of the things that initially made me subscribe during the 2020 pandemic because it was nice to feel like there was someone else going through the same stage of life that I am going through. The posts also usually help me get a new perspective and also appreciation of being a Dad (both literal and figurative).
Even if you are becoming character actors in the story, please keep writing about your journey. Those of us with you in our own childrens' cheap seats are ready to celebrate and watch what unfolds together.
I will note that both kids asked to be carried to bed tonight. They're each getting a bit big for that, but I'll oblige that request as long as I possibly can, lower back be damned.
Yuuuuup. My son is a workout and he still wants me to lift him and I feel the same way. That line in a piece I’ve seen several places about you never know when the last time you’ll pick your child up really hits at this age.
Let alone the scene in Modern Family with Jay’s monologue about parenting and falling in love with the different kids they become in different ages.
What I’m hearing is that we all end up becoming John Mahoney on Frasier. Not the star, maybe not supporting character, but we get a comfy chair and the best lines.
I like this. Olaf's a little big to be my Eddie, but we'll make it work.
Guarantee the big lug thinks he's a lap dog. I had a doof just like him.
Maybe not the point of the post, but did anyone else start singing "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" when seeing the line regarding reading books about shipwrecks?
FELLAS, IT’S BEEN GOOD TO KNOW YA
The legend lives on
That’s the part they leave out of the Parenting Handbook, they grow up and start to do their own stuff, leaving the parents behind. It’s a slow but gradual process. You’ll still have to lug them to practices/rehearsals. There will be games and recitals to attend where you can bask in their glory. But as they grow older, those mini trips become fewer and fewer and it’ll sting. But, it then frees up more time for shipwreck books or the opportunity to try a niche activity like curling.
For all of their problems, the Star Wars sequels giving us “We are what they grow beyond” was a bright spot
These posts are my favorite (a particular one where you talked about driving downtown and your kid pointing things out comes to mind). My kids are younger but I’m constantly angling for more time with them (especially 1 on 1 time) because of folks like you that don’t wait until they’re fully grown to reflect on the fleeting moments. So, even if the topic wanes here, know that you’ve helped at least one dad (in both senses of the word) keep his eye on the ball.
I always think of the backyard camping post first.
Scott, this is a thoughtful reflection and one I understand as my son has moved into his teenage years during the last month. What's become harder for me is that I am now in a realm where I have spent two decades being ready to provide practical, real world experience as advice to a person who absolutely has little to no interest in taking it much of the time. This is made even harder for him in that his mother is also his math teacher this year, which means not only does she know exactly what you were supposed to learn in class that day, but personally knows every single one of your teachers and wants to break down what everything in the gradebook means. But we're getting through, because well, it's what you do.
Biggest frustration of that teenage time is wanting to be the great dad still, asking questions to gain insight where you can lend some advice or offer support, and get little more than a monosyllabic grunt in response to you trying to pour your heart into them.
I feel for your son as a son of educators, Mom was a teach and Dad was a principal. I always wanted my mom to be my teacher, but she purposely moved around so not to have me or be in the same building. But looking back, yeah even though she knew all my teachers and they knew her, we both didn't have to endure the constant snitching that would have occurred. My junior high football coach hated my dad who was the high school principal, so I was constantly punished to get at my dad.
On the latter, ugh.
The one I am not looking forward to is three years from now when my son is taking AP U.S. History and he has the teacher that has not acknowledged that they updated the exam in 2015 (I had to tutor my niece and nephew through this issue) and trying very hard to remain professional in the face of "this is what he told us to do" and knowing he is not giving the kids the best possible information.
10th grade U.S. history teacher taught from the book we had. We had to copy notes from the board, which really was just busy work because he didn't want to teach a full 50 min period. The USSR still existed in 2002. So I feel your pain.
Four birthday parties in two days?! You don’t just deserve a moratorium on birthdays, you deserve a medal.
My wife and I split duties, but it felt especially ludicrous at the point I picked our son up from a trampoline gym to drive him straight to a nerf-gun-war facility.
…there are dedicated facilities for Nerf combat now?
it was basically a warehouse with a couple party rooms where they gave all the kids Nerf guns, but yeah
We’ve got a ninja warrior gym near us that has nerf war nights every other Friday evening
Nerf-gun-war facility invokes a black and white image like a shitty AI generated cover of an Ayn Rand book of repurposed Ford production lines cranking out Nerf guns with coal-and-grease-covered child labor and it's crackin me up!
Honestly, I’m just beside myself with jealousy
The trade off is four opportunities to eat cakes and or ices cream.
But then again four different needs to mingle and now I see why Scott raised the white flag.
It was so much that even an eight-year-old declined cake at the last one.
That moment where you are simultaneously proud and worried.
Along these lines, I had a revelation about my (similar-aged) kids recently. I've already done the vast majority of my parenting. Not in sense of the important stuff, of which there's so very much yet to come, but just in terms of volume of parenting. It's a 24/7/365 job for a short time, then it's more like high-powered executive hours for a while longer. Then they're in school all day and have their own activities and friends and you realize that you've moved into a consulting role.
Parenting tweens/teens: It's working for McKinsey, just with (hopefully) less crimes against humanity.
Whew, this is an interesting perspective on it. I *am* a consultant now.
Your parenting perspective is one of the many reasons your newsletters are a first open. Forget your typical "emotional terrorism" this could fall into "free therapy session" as this really is a pondering parenting piece.
I saw a clip this weekend that said something along the lines of "children spend their first 7ish years being programmed for life, and then they start applying that programming and becoming their own individual" and I was struck with fear/excitement at how much time has passed by already and how close I am to that point with my oldest.
^ this is a terrible paraphrase btw, but it's the gist I took from it!
Was briefly very excited for the Bandit thinkpiece I was getting only to be knocked on my butt by reality!
I’m not quite a decade behind you, and I really ended up here because of the parenting posts. There was a good piece in vulture today about Bluey actually and why it resonates with *parents*. I appreciate where you’ve ended up with your kids, especially as someone who doesn’t post mine to social (and has to answer to grandparents, aunts and uncles about our policy and how it “doesn’t make sense”). Here’s to your stevie van zandt arc!
Your post today brought to mind an exchange we had just last night with our daughter-in-law about how her little boy, 7, was starting to set boundaries on Mommy affection, saying to her after a shower of hugs and kisses, “OK, OK, that’s enough.” She called it his elementary school big boy attitude and then tearfully and comically mused about how she needed to get in the shower to have a good cry.
Those first seven years are some of the most meaningful for parents, and I’d say for grandparents too. I never had children of my own, but was lucky enough, later in life, to marry a man with a son, who then had his own 2 children. We cared for the babies for their first 5 years, then sent them off with our blessing to a new life across the country.
Those years of care have stayed in my heart, and remain the most important and precious of my life.
Which is why Scot, your thoughts on parenting are among my favorites of all your writings because they pull at those heartstrings and reawaken those chords of love and memory.
That ending, Scott... wow. They're their own little people now, aren't they? (P.S.: I'm experiencing the same exact thing with my now 10-year-old... it is surreal.)
Since you're almost there, I'll repeat some advice I share often with parents of teens or pre-teens. When you're schlepping them and their friends around in the minivan, you'll be tempted to talk. Don't. If you blend into the steering wheel, the kids forget you're there and just talk like they would if you weren't around. (They've got Olaf's level of object-permanence.) And you can learn more about what your kids are really doing and feeling in ten minutes of listening than you'll get out of asking them directly.
More generally, I don't think I was ever the main character around here, and that has been just fine with me.
I have been someone's kid for over 70 years. (Both parents have been gone for years.) I grew up in an era when my brother and I were largely left to our own devices in our small town. We had assigned chores and were expected to do as well in school as our talents allowed. Babysitters were common throughout our lives as our parents worked evenings and weekends, often in 2 jobs each. Because they needed to sleep in, we got our own cereal before school.
When I was about 10, Mom taught me to cook simple meals for myself and my brother when she couldn't be home. (Kraft macaroni and cheese was invented around that time, a favorite.)
Though we weren't poor (we had normal clothes, toys, bikes; our parents owned our house), there was little time or money for family outings or trips. In our pre-teen years and beyond, my brother and I roamed our town all day, all summer separately with our own friends, either walking or biking, with little or no adult supervision. Our parents were seldom available to attend any events (concerts, sports) in which we participated. If we wanted to be on a team or in a club, we lived close enough to our schools to walk to them (even at night, by ourselves) as our parents weren't available to provide rides.
Values and expected behaviors were largely communicated by demands, no negotiation; often those expectations were only occasionally modeled by the adults in our lives. "Do as I say, not as I do" was a common theme. Punishment was being sent to a corner or your room; more egregious behavior prompted spankings. As we got older, grounding became the main tool.
I'm not saying it was a glorious, nostalgic childhood. Our dad had issues, so mostly we stayed out of his way. That said, I don't remember feeling neglected, though I was wistful for the homemade cookies other mothers made that my mom didn't have time for.
Whatever we felt about them at the time, now as adults we know our parents loved us, did the best they could, and generally had our best interests at heart. Despite parental deficiencies / mistakes, my brother and I still grew up to be self-sufficient, contributing adults, though it did take each of us more than one try to get marriage right.
I've not had children of my own, so I admit I'm mystified with what appears to be today's hyper-parenting. I'm not criticizing parents or saying things should be (or even can be) as they were when I grew up. But the level of parental anxiety among the young adults I know is off the charts. My heart goes out to all of you, and I hope you find peace in raising your children.
PS I think you've been very wise to keep images and details about your children out of your writing. I hope you can hold them back from participating in social media as long as possible.
There is a bright side though around this age that when the kids ask me for a glass of water despite being next to the fridge and the cabinet with reachable cups, I realize I can confidently say ‘do it yourself.’ And when they spill it all over the kitchen floor I can still say clean it yourself please, and finally when I slip on the kitchen floor several hours later and am laying there nursing my new neck injury I realize I must be in some elaborate Trueman Show style sitcom
I am one of those that always enjoys your parenting posts and it is one of the things that initially made me subscribe during the 2020 pandemic because it was nice to feel like there was someone else going through the same stage of life that I am going through. The posts also usually help me get a new perspective and also appreciation of being a Dad (both literal and figurative).
Even if you are becoming character actors in the story, please keep writing about your journey. Those of us with you in our own childrens' cheap seats are ready to celebrate and watch what unfolds together.
Thank you!
I will note that both kids asked to be carried to bed tonight. They're each getting a bit big for that, but I'll oblige that request as long as I possibly can, lower back be damned.
Yuuuuup. My son is a workout and he still wants me to lift him and I feel the same way. That line in a piece I’ve seen several places about you never know when the last time you’ll pick your child up really hits at this age.
Let alone the scene in Modern Family with Jay’s monologue about parenting and falling in love with the different kids they become in different ages.