Is “childism” real?

Hanging out Sunday night, I happened across this piece – ‘Childist’ Nation: Does America Hate Kids? by Judith Warner. The concept is interesting: we, as a nation, seem to have swung back in some crazy-ass direction where now people are all okay for stifling the creativity, joie de vivre, and very safety of children in the country. Hmm. I think I beg to differ. I think it’s been around for a lot longer and is far more ingrained than any ‘ism’ can possibly express.

Sure enough, things like No Child Left Behind do little to show that we’re trying to handle the immense variation in children’s learning development, but standardized tests were around decades ago and didn’t seem to derail children from having useful and prosperous futures back then. (I had to pass four state-level standardized tests just to be eligible to graduate from high school, and somehow I managed to do that without ending up in a padded cell.)

And while the terrible tragedy of a young girl being run to death for having lied about eating a candy bar is just that – a terrible tragedy – it’s not like there weren’t screwed up parents for pretty much the entire history of, well, parenthood.

It seems like a week can’t go by without hearing some horrifying story of what someone’s done to a child: sexual assault (I’m looking right at you, Jerry Sandusky, and it makes me want to puke), physical abuse, emotional abuse…the list just goes on and on. It’s to the point where you almost have to go numb if you want to be able to listen to, watch or read the news; otherwise, you might lose your nut listening to the filth and bile that humankind seems to heap on itself, especially its most vulnerable population.

But, I’d like to point out that there’s more to it than that. Sure enough, Warner does point out that America’s lack of support for affordable, high-quality child care is part of the problem, and I agree 100% with her. I’d also like to note that it shouldn’t take Beyonce whipping out a boob in a New York restaurant to get people to agree that breastfeeding is okay in public. As far as I can tell, the only people who think bf’ing in public is offensive are those who see breasts as “tits” only. Au contraire – boobs can sometimes be breasts, sometimes be tits, sometimes even be BODACIOUS TA-TAS… – and whatever they are, it’s none of anyone else’s business. Feeding your child should be okay in a restaurant. People go to restaurants to eat, right? OK. (nods)

And setting aside the Tiger Moms and the Parisian Moms, and whatever other form of Titled Mom you want to come up with, kids need structure. They need boundaries. They need freedom to run while simultaneously being able to know that there’s a home to come back to. That’s why I get so completely annoyed when I hear about how we need to make sure that everybody gets a trophy whenever there’s a competition. No, they don’t. Whoever wins should get a trophy, and maybe the next 2 or so other kids. Everybody else just gets to see the trophies. Sounds harsh? Well, which is harsher – letting kids think that everybody always wins or teaching them that winning has to have some value to it or else it’s not really winning? I think of this exchange from the movie, The Incredibles, where the mother (Helen) is trying to make sure that her son, Dash, understands why his superpowers might be too much for competitive sports. She tells him that “everybody’s special”, which prompts his grumbling retort: “Which is another way of saying no one is.” We’re not all Usain Bolt, Michael Phelps, or {pick the really fast/gifted athlete of your choice}. Doesn’t mean we can’t strive for it, but doesn’t mean we’ll all get there. Teaching kids otherwise is actually crueller than giving them some dose of reality, in my opinion.

Where else do we fall down? All over the place. We medicate kids early and often when it’s not always clear that they need it. We leave parents of autistic children to fend for themselves all too often, when it’s clear that they need access to MORE assistance, not less. We actually debate whether or not dads should have access to paternity leave. We fill the shelves of grocery stores with countless boxes, jars, cans, and plastic cups of foods targeted to kids that are filled to the gills with high fructose corn syrup, chemicals and other crrrrap that growing bodies (or even fully-grown bodies) just don’t need.

Oh, I could just go on and on.

I’m not saying that kids don’t need to be separated from adults at times. I like having some free time to myself when no one is hanging on my leg, asking me whether they can watch “Wiggly Wiggly Christmas” for the umpteenth time, or jumping off the couch when I expressly forbade that not two minutes prior. But, the thing is: these are my kids. I take them as our responsibility. It’s up to me and dh to decide how to civilize these wild creatures who were brought into this world as a way for us to extend our family tree one more generation. I’ll do everything in my power to protect them from the stupid and mean people, but I know there will be a point when my reach won’t be good enough. At that point, I have to rely on them to be able to take care of themselves to some extent and call me in when they recognize that they need help. So I have to do what I can to prepare them for that eventuality, and the stupid and mean people keep coming up with new and exciting ways in which they can be awful to kids (and their parents, which has a trickle-down effect on the kids), so it seems to make the life of a parent that much more challenging.

Of course, no one put a gun to my head and made me have kids. And it seems like every generation has some point when parent A turns to parent B and says, “Are we really doing the right thing, bringing kids into {this} world?” (where {this} is always punctuation for some really awful thing, like nuclear proliferation, homophobia, or the rampant spread of reality TV). So maybe it’s just a never-ending cycle. On the other hand, there is somewhat of an antidote to this. If parents all over the place said, “I won’t be like that” and then actually WEREN’T that parent, and if employers, school superintendents, politicians, and everyone else went about their day trying not to be that guy, maybe we’d get somewhere.

As I’ve said to dd on more than one occasion, “Politeness costs you nothing.” I really do consider that to be true. It costs you nothing to be nice to someone, to do the right thing, to smooth the path for the person behind you. But it seems to cost you your very soul (if not various other possessions) when you deviate from that. Quoth Wil Wheaton, “Don’t be a dick”. Oh that more people could live their lives with this in their hearts. Kids – and adults – everywhere would rejoice.

Why don’t schools support working parents better?

This isn’t the post I’d originally planned to post.

My first draft of this, written two days ago – the evening after I registered dd for Kindergarten – was far more cranky. Now, I’m not sure how I feel. Numb? Frustrated? Resigned to it all?

The long and the short of it is that I’m dealing with the emotional aftermath of realizing how much about our lives will change once dd starts Kindergarten. Of course, there’s a financial toll, but we’ve been paying such enormous sums of money to our day care center for so long that I’m just not as sensitive to that anymore. You could say that I’ve been broken down by it all.

What I’m trying to get past now is the fact that so many things need to be cobbled together in order to ensure that dh and I can continue to work.

Let me say that again: so that dh and I can continue to work.

Why should putting our dd in Kindergarten, in a public school – no less – have any kind of impact on whether or not we have jobs? After all, public schools are free and that should be an enormous help, right?

Well…not quite.

We live in a town with excellent schools, so private schools aren’t a consideration. I’m perfectly at peace with that; the quality of the school district was part of our decision to move here, and we’re both the product of public schools. Of course, our property taxes are through the roof, but that’s a function of the high quality schools and a NIMBY streak a whole town wide.

So, it kinda hurt when we found out that we have to pay for full-time Kindergarten. The half-day is free, because that’s a requirement set by the state, but full-time Kindergarten comes at a cost of nearly $4K before you get to any before and after care.

Why on earth would you need before and after care, you ask? Well, school only runs from about 9am-3pm. With both of us working full-time and still having commutes to contend with, that schedule is impossible to match. We typically leave the house around 7am to get both of us to work on time (with a day care drop-off by *somebody*), and I’m the first one to the kids at 5:15pm, if I’m running on-time. So, that leaves us in the unenviable position of needing both “before-care” and “after-care”. If we’re okay with paying for the before and after care offered at school, we can pay more than $5K on top of the Kindergarten tuition. As it is, we’re only on the hook for an additional $4K because of a before-care arrangement I struck up with a friend who lives up the street.

Now, that’ll cover us from the start of school (around Labor Day) to end of the school year (late June), not including various holidays, Christmas vacation, and two school vacation weeks in the spring term. There’s still a gap of however many weeks (9-12) during the summer where we need to have a better plan than leaving dd in the house with a window cracked. She’s pretty nearly outgrown her daycare, so next summer (and maybe even this summer) we need a camp. That’s another $4K-ish, with hours running from about 9am-3pm/4pm. BUT, you can pay for before- and after-care! Sigh.

I’ve started to price out camps, and the timeframes they offer span anywhere from 6 weeks to 12 weeks, in costs ranging from around $200/week to nearly $500/week. It’s all mind-boggling.

I feel like I have to pull together this patchwork quilt of solutions so that dd will be in an educational and engaging environment year-around, since quitting a job simply isn’t an option. The cost of living in the eastern portion of Massachusetts rivals that of New York City or San Francisco – I know only a handful of families with stay at home parents. I don’t feel like I can take out this frustration on any of the nice people at the school; they are all awfully nice and they could easily tell that most of us were deer in headlights: unsure of what questions to ask because we’re not even sure what all we’re getting ourselves into.

I suppose that, as long as I’m willing to open my checkbook and do far more homework than dd will have to do anytime soon, I can get all of these resources lined up. It’s just more than a bit overwhelming and I only hope that I don’t let anything slip through the cracks. The room for error, when you can’t just spend days at home to cover gaps that you didn’t plan appropriately for, is just miniscule.

 

The saga of the big boy bed

Our dd was about 2-1/2 when she got her big girl bed – a hand-me-down from dh’s brother’s childhood days. She moved out of the crib (which converted to a toddler bed) and into the big girl bed a few months before ds arrived; that gave her a chance to get used to the idea of more real estate on which to sleep. Of course, this is now a cruel joke: what space she has she covers in stuffed animals, and she still routinely tries to get into our bed because she doesn’t want to sleep alone.

Still, when ds started to make noises about wanting his own big boy bed, not long after reaching the 2yo mark, we realized that we needed to plan this into the new year budget. Turns out, as he’s coming up on his own 2-1/2yr milestone, he’ll be in his own bed. We actually managed to pick a bed today, after a few weeks of hemming-and-hawing, and we found one that we think should have a fairly decent lifespan. Funny thing is: it’s not a bed for him.

The trouble is, we were having issues trying to find a bed that we liked for ds that was in our price range. It seems that even twin beds routinely run close to $500 before you get to the mattress (another $100, if you buy it at BJ’s) and the boxspring (another $80, if you buy it at BJ’s). That’s just nuts.

On a whim, I managed to go through the flyer for a national mattress chain and saw that they had beds there, as well. One bed was white, and since that matched dd’s decor, I figured we could swap the (dark wood) hand-me-down bed into her brother’s room and buy her a white bed at a more reasonable price. She was ALL about this idea, but I wanted to see the bed in person. And aye, there’s the rub. I called several local outlets for this chain, and each one told me that they didn’t have the bed on display but they COULD ORDER IT FOR ME. Well, that’s all nice and stuff, but what if I want to see the bed and make sure it’s not made of cardboard? These aren’t the things you want to find out after you’ve spent nearly $300 on a bed and the delivery men are now many miles –> thattaway.

One of the nice folks I talked to even suggested that it was an online-only bed, which was a little confusing: the web site had it “on sale” for $80 more than the sale price in the flyer. Huh?

So, I gave in and got into an online chat with a very pleasant customer service rep who went on to assure me he COULD ORDER IT FOR ME. Uh, no, I’d like to see it in person. I want to make sure it’s good quality. Well, he explained, we have 700 outlets nationwide and I can’t tell you which ones would have it store. But, he assured me, I CAN ORDER IT FOR YOU AT THE PRICE IN THE FLYER. This is where Twitter folks would typically whip out the #FAIL tag. I ended the chat and moved on with my life, fairly annoyed and definitely sure I’m never buying a mattress from them.

Onward and upward, we went to the same discount chain where we bought our entire bedroom set. The nice salesperson showed me several styles of twin bed, answered all of my questions (sometimes obliquely when he was trying not to say outright, “Don’t buy this one because we’ve had problems with it”), and proceeded to not be an ass when I took his card but decided not to make a purchase that day. Sure, dd told me she LOVED every bed she bounced on or came within 5 feet of, but that didn’t mean we were both ready to buy. I was, but dh wasn’t.

I continued searching, and since we both had MLK Day off, we dropped off the kids at day care and decided to head out without the added distraction of chasing down the kids. Buying-with-children is like being impaired by drugs or alcohol; you just wave your hand, “Whatever – I’ll take it”, because you’re so incredibly distracted/worn down/incapable of thinking through anything as you keep one eye on the salesperson and one on the kids. So, while I’m okay with buying-with-children for things like clothes for them, or maybe even small electronics, I’m NOT okay trying to do that with furniture purchases. It’s just too expensive and too long-term of a purchase for that.

We headed over to a large local chain store (not big-blue-and-yellow-box..the one next door to it) and checked out the clearance center, since their regular prices started at $500. Their selection in the clearance center was anemic and suggested that we were still out of our price range. So, we moved on to a used furniture store I’d heard about that’s a couple towns away. This HUGE warehouse location turned out to be…uh, small. And had about 2 beds. *cough*

Moving on.

We then went to the place where we bought our crib, but since they specialize in more designer furniture for kids, their lowest price was still a bit higher than I’d like (closer to $400). They did have the benefit of being just up the street from another place where we’d bought some chairs a few years back. Again, we were pretty close to the top of our price range and not finding anything that was so amazing that it inspired us to jump up the price bracket.

And so we came back to store #1, where we’d seen several beds and had dd actually give her opinion. And we picked one that we both liked and that was in a much better price range than we’d seen elsewhere. Our salesperson wasn’t there, but since I’d had his card and I was pretty fervent about “He’ll get written on the slip, right?!”, they made sure to include his name so that he’d get at least partial commission for the sale. And so, the bed will be delivered this week. This means we still have a flurry of activity to complete: get new linens for ds (he needs twin-sized sheets, plus a blanket, a comforter, a pillow, etc.), get a mattress for ds and a boxspring for dd’s new bed, take down the toddler bed and move the hand-me-down bed into its place…I’m tired just thinking about it.

We did manage to get a couple sets of flannel sheets for a steal ($15 at one place and $17 at another), a 6pc comforter set for $72, a pillow for $6, and we grabbed a mattress and boxspring (from BJ’s, at the prices I mentioned above). The linens were a bit of a PITA to acquire, but that’s mostly because girls have a selection that’s > ——— < wide and boys get a selection that’s > < wide. WTH?! (My BIL would claim that this is a constant, because there are some things where girls get ALLLLLL the selection and boys just get screwed. OTOH, girls have to beg, borrow and steal to get pockets in their work pants, and that’s just complete and utter b.s., as far as I’m concerned.)

So, all in all, it was a very expensive day, but by the end of the week, ds should be in his big-boy-bed, dd should be in her new bed, and dh & I will likely be ready for very tall drinks of something with a proof rating on the label.

All this, and we don’t even know how he’ll sleep in it.