- The first thing you do when you wake up in the morning is look for somebody to blame.
- No matter what anyone says, you completely disagree.
- There are no accidents or innocent mistakes: everything everybody does to you is “on purpose.”
- You yell at your spouse for breathing too loudly.
- You yell at the dog for laying around the house all day doing nothing.
- You yell at your kids for almost anything, and then you feel so bad about you break down and cry.
- Even though you’re not hungry, you stand at the fridge eating (usually whatever you can reach, instead of something you might enjoy).
- You stop going to Starbucks because you can’t take the pressure.
- Everything you say ends with a threat.
- You find yourself staring at a stranger whose face is locked in a permanent scowl for two or three minutes before you realize you’re standing in front of a mirror.
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Most school districts have guidelines for homework, which are generally 10 minutes per night per grade. This information is usually included in the “Back to School” handout, or available on a web site. What they don’t tell you is that they don’t mean students are expected to spend 10 minutes per night per grade doing homework, they mean parents are expected to spend 10 minutes per night per grade — usually just to get your kids to sit down and get started, too. Add to that the time it takes to make them double-check their work, re-read the directions so they do it right this time, call a classmate when the finally admit they can’t re-read the directions because they “forgot” them at school, re-do everything one more time… and then suddenly it’s 10:30 and you’re wondering where your evening went. And that’s on a good night. On a bad night, you have to factor in the additional time it takes to wipe away the tears your grade school kid sheds because they’re afraid that when you scream you’re going to throw all the video games and game players in the house in the trash if they don’t focus “RIGHT NOW!” you actually mean it, or the time it takes to think up the increasingly harsh forms of punishment you threaten your jr. high or high school kid with to get them to quite screwing around and get their assignment done — note to Dick Cheney: getting a terrorist to write a detailed confession isn’t all that different than getting a kid to write a history paper, so imagine all the controversy you could have avoided if you’d just asked the nation’s parents to tell you what really works? There’s also the time it takes you to work through the shame and embarrassment you feel when you realize you’ve forgotten so much Math, Science, History and Social Studies that even when you finally snap and scream “Here, just let me do it!” you can’t actually do it. Cosine? Pi? The atomic number of ruthenium? The capital of Botswana? Uh… There was a time when students got homework and if they didn’t do it they’d get yelled at the next day by their teacher, paddled, given detention, or forced to stay after class while everybody else went outside to play so they could write “I promise I will not forget to do my homework again” 100 times on the blackboard. Now parents are responsible. Which means when there’s a note that gets sent home because there’s a problem, it blames you, asking what the Hell kind of uninvolved, uninterested, unfit parent you are for failing on such a regular basis to get your kid to sit down every night to complete such a simple thing as each day’s assignment. Or worse, all of the above plus the reminder that there’s a 25 page Social Studies report due on Friday: YOU: I just got a note from your teacher. What’s a parent to do? If you’re like many, you’ll eventually turn to your own parents for help, asking them how they endured homework’s Long March. But the only thing they’ll do is laugh and say there’s nothing you can do, and that as awful as your kids seem, they’re not any worse than you were when you were their age: YOU: Wow. Ouch. (On the other hand, whether it’s Math, Science or Social Studies when you’re a kid, or Parenting, Perspective and Anger Management when you’re an adult, it’s nice to know that you can still turn to your parents for help you with your homework.) Husband: “Ready?” Editor’s note: when husbands were asked if they thought this joke was mildly-to-moderately amusing, 84% said “yes;” when wives were asked the same question, 91% said “What joke? You think it’s easy getting ready? We can’t just hop in the shower and be done. We have to do our hair, put on our make-up, and then clean up the bathroom before we leave because our husbands NEVER do. Seriously, do they want the babysitter to think we’re slobs? And how hard is it to hang up a towel and wipe down the sink, anyway? If you want to talk about getting ready to go out, men are the real joke, and we don’t think it’s funny.” God bless Oprah and all the good she does in the world, but sometimes she – or, perhaps more accurately, her editors – get it wrong. Case in point: the 10-point family guide to getting more sleep, which starts out sensibly enough, but quickly takes an impractical turn: 1. Make sleep a family priority. 2. Recognize sleep problems in your children. For most parents, the problem isn’t recognizing the problem – it’s pretty obvious that kids don’t like going to sleep, ever, no matter how late it is or how tired they are – it’s figuring out what to do about it, other than turning to Benadryl. 3. Parents need to work together. But we don’t. It’s not “divide and conquer” so much as it is “You deal with it while I relax for a while and watch TV ‘cause I’ve had a rough day.” 4. Be consistent. Ha. 5. Set a regular bedtime and wake time. Parents already do this all the time, we’re just not very good at it. Because while most of us realize that bedtime should be 15 to 30 minutes before we finally reach the breaking point, and wake time should be whenever we finally get enough sleep to feel rested and alert – say 8:09 pm and 7:51 am – the reality is that bedtime is usually 15 minutes after the breaking point, and wake time is whatever time you absolutely, positively have to leave the house in the morning so you’re not late minus half the time you need to make breakfast, make lunches, make coffee, take a shower, get everyone dressed, settle whatever random fight breaks out that morning and kiss your spouse. (Unless you’re still fighting because you didn’t work together.) 6. Routine. Routine. Routine. In your dreams. In your dreams. In your dreams – unless a “routine” can consist of a carefully planned series of random, unpredictable events to which no timeframe can ever logically be applied. 7. Dress and room temperature – not too hot, not too cold. Oh, please – if one kid is too hot, the other is too cold, and if they’re fine, you’re uncomfortable. The only one who ever got anything “just right” was Goldilocks and she was make-believe. 8. Transitional object to ease separation – doll, stuffed animal, blanket. Okay, but what do you do when the “transitional object” is Mom? (While that might seem good for Dad, it’s bad for Mom, which means that ultimately it’s bad for Dad, too.) 9. Don’t share your room or your bed with your child. Anyone with parents who weren’t hippies has heard this, but let’s examine the way it works in real life: CHILD: Can I sleep with you? Worse, the next night when your kid comes in it won’t be because there’s a monster under the bed, it’ll be because Oprah is there, too. 10. There’s always one last thing with kids, so anticipate. Anticipate? One last thing? How about 10 last things? Or 20? Any parent who can do that is clearly psychic and should just hit the Atlantic City casinos and hire an army of nannies with the winnings. For most parents, the most practical suggestion for getting more family sleep is to just be patient for 18 years or so, at which time the kids will finally be old enough to move on and sleep by themselves. *Or recommends her audience checks out www.overcaffeinateddad.com. No age group is immune to meltdowns, with even teenagers releasing their inner Linda Blair every now and then. (And if you’re really lucky, you’re the parent of the one out of 1,000,000,000 kids who just don’t melt down. Ever. And not because they’re medicated all the time, either.) Still, some places are worse for meltdowns than others: Church God won’t care, thankfully, but some of the parishioners sure will. And even though you are in a place of compassion and forgiveness, always remember that none of it will be directed at you if you can’t keep your kid quiet during the sermon. Chuck E. Cheese It’s only bad if your kid is the one who sets off the chain reaction of temper tantrums. And if that happens, get out of there fast. At home, the minute before the new babysitter arrives Because even if you manage to calm your kid down, you’ll clutch your cell phone the entire time you’re out, waiting for the babysitter’s exasperated call, making it all but impossible to enjoy the play, movie, Upscale, urban supermarkets None of those people looking at you with disgust have kids, so none of them realize you’re about as responsible for a meltdown as you are for an earthquake. School If you can’t get your child out before things get really ugly, count on the fact that from now on, any time your child has trouble paying attention, or doesn’t understand an assignment, or gets in even the slightest amount of trouble, the teacher will assume it’s because you’re a crappy parent. Around old people Not because there’s anything wrong with old people in general – most are understanding, even indulgent when it comes to kids – but there are two sub-groups you can’t always avoid: those who never had kids and hate the fact that part of their taxes go to educate “your” dirty, greasy, uncontrollable monsters, and the “spare the rod and spoil the child” types who look at you like you’re weak for not just hauling off and smacking your kid across the face when he or she gets out of line. Sadly, both groups seem to go out of their way to let you know how they feel. Somebody else’s birthday party This is especially bad if the meltdown coincides with the opening of presents and all the other parents can hear your kid wailing about the fact that the birthday boy or girl is getting lots of cool stuff and your kid isn’t. As awful as it is when your kid has a meltdown, another kid’s meltdown can be among the more satisfying of parental experiences. All you have to do to feel really good about yourself is throw meltee’s mom or dad an empathetic look that says “Hang in there, compadre, and don’t focus on the fact that everybody in the entire food court is staring at you like you’re the worst parent in the history of parenting. Focus instead on the terrific way my kid is behaving and let his or her pleasant and well-behaved exceptionalness remind you that your kid will soon return to his or her normal behavioral state, and within a few weeks even the most shocked and horrified of the bystanders will have forgotten what you look like, at which point it will be safe to return to the mall, where – if you’re lucky – you will find yourself standing where I am now, offering a look of encouragement and compassion to somebody who most definitely needs it.” Don’t let the credit crisis, the housing slump, gas prices, global warming, the cost of groceries, layoffs or the generally sad state of world affairs stop you from enjoying quality time with your kids. Instead, let these troubles inspire you with the following games: Mortgage, Mortgage, Who’s Got The Mortgage? Kids sit in a circle with their fists closed, pretending to hold a button, which in this case represents a mortgage. As you go around the circle, everybody says “Mortgage, mortgage, who’s got the mortgage?” and then whoever’s turn it is says “Billy has the mortgage.” Billy must then open his fist to show everybody if he has the button/mortgage or not. The joke, of course, is that he doesn’t. In fact, nobody does, because credit is still so tight nobody can get one. Stock Market Limbo How low can it go? There’s one way to find out: put on “The Limbo Song” and see if you can make it under without collapsing. Time Travelers Take an imaginary trip to the future without leaving home. Just unplug the air conditioner, shut off the water main, and set the thermostat as high as it will go. The first person to pass out from heat stroke loses, the last one standing gets a half-glass of dirty water and a chance to play “An Inconvenient Truth: The Home Edition.” The Crumbling Infrastructure Game Just like “London Bridge is Falling Down,” only substitute something local. U.N. Election Monitor Help ensure the spread of democracy with this variation on “Kick The Can.” Select one U.N. Election Monitor, then divide everyone else up into two groups: voters and henchmen. While you turn your back and pretend every- thing is going really, really well, “voters” try to run up and kick the can before “henchmen” stop them. Magic 81/4 – Ball Buy? Sell? Forget your broker’s “opinion” and just ask the Magic 81/4 – Ball. It couldn’t be any worse. Filibusted Pretend you’re Congress and you’re trying to do something to re-ignite the economy, only you get so bogged down in partisanship you just stand around calling each other names. The Coupon Game What kid doesn’t like to cut things out? Here, you put yours to work helping you find enough coupons to make up the difference between what you make and what you spend. (While technically not a game, it would probably be helpful. Plus, you can give your kids bonus points if they find any coupons that are good for discounted liquor or anti-depressants.) Chinese Toy Russian Roulette Toxic? Non-toxic? Line up the toys and use a home lead-test to find out. It’s easy to get mad at bad drivers, but sometimes there’s a simple explanation for why somebody stops at a green light, or makes a left hand turn from the far right lane, or just blatantly cuts you off. (Besides being too tired to see straight because they have kids who still won’t sleep through the night.) Where the ’70s had custom paint jobs, the ’90s had vanity plates. And even though they’ve become something of a cliche, they’re still an accurate way of understanding what a driver is thinking. Why is the guy in the vintage car you’re stuck behind going 20 mph under the speed limit? Because he’s “N2PL8Z” not “N2 DRVNG.” Why did that teenager just sideswiped your neighbor’s mailbox? “I♥TXTNG.” And why is the Nascar wannabe in the 2007 Dodge Challenger next to you at the stop light revving his engine? Because he’s “2FAST4U” (though, unfortunately for him, not 2FAST4 the highway patrol car waiting behind the overpass up ahead.) But as good as vanity plates are, they’re not nearly as insightful as bumper stickers. If it’s “EARTH FIRST!” that means it’s good driving second, which easily explains why that bio-diesel conversion that smells like a giant french fry is driving the wrong way down a one way street. Not to be too political, but if you’ve ever been driven off the road by a convoy of protesters racing to their next rally, you know that just because somebody’s “PRO LIFE” or “PRO CHOICE” doesn’t mean they’re pro-stop sign, pro-”Do Not Pass” or pro-speed limit.” And while “MEAT IS MURDER,” running somebody over is just vehicular manslaughter, which is why that emaciated 20-something in the vintage Volvo seems more concerned with finding the only Vegan restaurant in town than looking out for pedestrians. Not that anyone is perfect, of course, but why call attention to yourself? It’s great to “PRACTICE RANDOM ACTS OF KINDNESS,” but not for every single driver who wants to cut in. “WHAT WOULD SCOOBY DO?” He’d let Fred drive because he’s too stoned. And if we’re supposed to “CALL 1 800 EAT-SHIT” to lodge a complaint, how can we do it from the car if we’re not allowed to use cellphones anymore? Still, as irritating as other drivers can be, it’s not like we can just walk away.
A is for “anxious,” C is for “cut-backs.” E is “economy,” G is for “Google,” I is not you, 401K was your net, M is for “Me!?!?!?! O is for “out of,” Q is the “question:” S is the “stimulus,” U is the “upside.” W‘s for the “worry” In the end there’s just Y,
KID: How can you lose a house?
According to a recent research study, one in five adults who responded to a survey admitted to using Ritalin or Adderall to boost their brain power. When asked where they got the drugs, most just mumbled and said “I can’t remember,” but speculation is they simply raided their kids’ medicine cabinet. And while this clearly breaches the bonds of trust between parent and child, when you consider how often kids raid their parents’ liquor cabinet, it seems only fair. You’d think leaking pee would get soaked up by pants or tights, or if it did manage to seep down a leg, shoes and socks would easily keep it from spreading. (Isn’t that why kids wear socks in the first place, to soak up pee? God knows it’s not because they want to). But no. Pee goes where it wants to go, defying the laws of gravity and fluid mechanics, and targeting the things parents care about most like silk shirts, expensive upholstery, a favorite suit, new carpet, mesh car seats or anything else you’ve ever tried to keep from being ruined. Pee is like a smart bomb, or a liquid Terminator, a soulless killing machine that can’t be reasoned with, can’t be bargained with, and can’t be stopped until it’s too late. (Let’s hope it doesn’t form an unholy alliance with poop and vomit, as that would surely doom us all.) “Can’t you hold it until we get home?” “Are you sure you don’t want me to put a bucket by your bed, just in case?” “Don’t answer it. DON’T ANSWER IT!” “The kids will love it.” “I thought you were picking them up?” “Okay, but only if you promise not to do it in the house.” “Okay, but only if you promise to be careful.” “Make sure you put that on the counter before the dog gets it.” “Did you bring the tickets?” “Relax, the kids have been asleep for hours.” |
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