Compassion... or selfish stupidity?

I once heard someone say that people who don't have children know best how to raise them. Of course, this was sarcasm. But I agreed. Because let's be fair: how can anyone justify telling other adults what to do while they can only empathize? 

The more we grow and the more life experience we accrue, the more we're able to differentiate the truth from the lies; the everlasting from the evanescent; and hopefully, the juxtaposition between the standards we should be setting for ourselves versus the ones society has told us are acceptable. I pride myself on my ability to be an objective and overall empathetic person, but I can't help but realize we're becoming way too tolerant. 

Where am I going with this, you ask? Let's just say that after spending considerable time among young children and their parents, I've decided to cut the latter a lot less slack. 

As a married adult, the thought of someday having kids crosses my mind... oh, about every time I see one. Never so much "eeeee I want one!" (ha. ha.), but rather mere observation of subtleties (and  not-so-subtleties) in child-parent interaction, which provoke speculation ("If that were my child, they would NEVER...") and empathization ("I wonder if that would be me"). These thoughts sometimes manifest into conversations with Roberto about how we believe children should be raised, but more often than not they're dismissed with a Well, I can't honestly know until I find out mentality. Never did I possess the gall, motivation or certainty to say I can't wait to have kids JUST SO I CAN SHOW THE WORLD how raising them should be done.

Until recently. 

I was working with five-year-olds when a parent who was running late caught up with us on our way in from the playground. "Here's your group, Johnny. Daddy will see you later!" But Johnny wouldn't let go. 

Now, this occurred every week. From what I understand, this is to be expected from a four year old during his first few days at preschool. But this dude was going on SIX. It was also clear to me from the otherwise patient dad's lack of tolerance for the situation that this little problem was not legitimate, but rather an ongoing misbehavior. Finally the dad managed to slip away, but the biggest problem remained: How the heck am I going to get this stubborn child down two halls to the classroom?

Johnny had hurled his body onto the floor and curled up like a snail in protest. In the classroom I'd spend a minute encouraging him to participate and try to make him feel welcome, and then after that failed I would leave him alone, figuring that excessive attention would only reward undesirable behavior. But in the middle of the hallway? This was a different ballgame.

"I'm going to count to five, and then I'm going to have to give you a timeout later if you're not walking back to the classroom with me."

Here was my frustration: If the only person who had the power to effectively enforce the discipline that is required for an obedient child would do so, I wouldn't have felt like a fool with my hands tied behind my back. But, that person was strutting carefree down the hall towards the parking lot. Sure, it inconveniences him for a few seconds every morning, but only before he drops it all in someone else's lap. You see, the tolls of Easy Street always start out small and far between before ending in a price much higher than the short-sighted payees ever imagined.

"1... 2... 3... 4... 5..."

Great. Now we really weren't going anywhere. I had no idea if I had the strength to throw however much a chubby five-year-old weighed over my shoulder, but I guessed I was about to find out. When all of the sudden---

 "Johnny?!?!?! WHAT'S WRONG."

The director had seen a distraught child and, throwing all discretion to the wind (and probably sensing the need to get him out of the hallway), rushed over with a lollipop. 

A LOLLIPOP.

I just promised a tantruming child a time out, and you're applauding him with sugar. I'm kinda glad his dad doesn't invest in the whole discipline thing, because that would have made what you just did the living definition of counter productivity.

Johnny's “tears” suddenly ceased. A grin spread across his face, his eyes brightened and his worries were far and away. I got my way AND a lollipop? This. is. epic. 

Until the lollipop was gone. Then it was square one all over again. Who saw THAT one coming?

By this time, a second adult made her way over to the scene. Bargaining with a five-year-old didn't work? WHAT?! What if I promised you to be the teacher's helper at story-time? That'll get this problem off all of our backs. Yes, I'll be giving the highest possible reward to the most misbehaved child and yes, it'll confuse the crap out of you and your little peers and negate any ground their parents may have gained in attempts to teach them the concept of consequences. But HEY, it's a temporary fix to a long-term problem. And if I say "awww" at least three times, that converts my laziness to maternal compassion! Yep, that’s it. COMPASSION.

The problem that I have with that is that compassion is a by-product of love. The problem with that is that love is selfless. Selflessness exhibits servanthood, which is the opposite of laziness. Which is all adults are being by not disciplining children when necessary.

Failing to discipline your child is selfish and unloving.

“Well, I wouldn’t reward a tantrum with a lollipop!” you say. You're exercising common sense, and that's great! But have you taught them to respect adults enough to not interrupt them when they’re talking? Do your children act like they’re in a restaurant when they’re in a restaurant (a place where grown adults who are to be respected have paid to be), or do they act like they’re on a playground no matter where they go? Do you follow through with threats, or is your child constantly calling your bluff?

And then there’s the excuses.

“We’ve come to realize that he’s just going to be like that.” Lady, your kid is a pain in the you-know-what and no one wants to be around him. Let’s pretend for a second that children are not the wet clay just waiting to be shaped and molded that they are. He popped right out with his choice of career, pet peeves, and the social security number of his future spouse printed on his forehead. You’re STILL doing him and the world a huge disservice by pulling the “that’s just how he is” card. Cause he’s FIVE. The ONLY thing he is is potential. That’s got to be one of the saddest excuses I’ve ever heard. Sorry, but we are SO far gone from just two generations ago that sugar-coating things is not going to bring anyone back.

If you are going to be a selfish and lazy parent, rock it out! Stop showing up to your daycare or Sunday school making authoritative threats to your child loud and clear when you think other adults are listening, because judging by the way your child acts, there’s no way in hades that anyone is going to believe you bother with that crap at home. So please, for your own sake, stop embarrassing yourself and drop the facade.

All parents love and make sacrifices for their kids, so my goal isn't to make anyone feel bad. But in a society where spanking is considered child abuse, we've lost sight of what it means to hold our children accountable. Which is sad, because they'll never hold themselves accountable or be prepared by any measure for the real world if we don't exercise tough love now.
Don't reward bad behavior. Punish your child when necessary. And if you threaten to do something? You're a joke if you don't follow through. Simple stuff, right?

If you just read all that, I'm impressed. If you have a blog I'd love to follow you! And as always, comments are appreciated.:)