My first memory of Parenting Advice

I was six years old, and my mother took me to my pediatrician for my annual checkup. We took the subway to Jane Station, walked across the slushy street, into the tall building, up the elevator, and into the waiting room. She checked me in, and we sat down to wait. With us in the waiting room was a young mother with an infant; they baby was maybe 3 months old.

The baby was crying. The baby was beet red and sweaty. And, because it was a slushy March day in Toronto, the baby was wearing a diaper, a onesie, a sweater and a snowsuit, and was wrapped up in a blanket in a stroller. The mom kept picking up the baby and snuggling, gently bouncing, and all manner of other soothing activities, to no avail.

I looked at my mom and said, in a low voice, “It doesn’t matter how much she soothes the baby; he’s not going to stop crying until she takes off two layers of clothing and lets him cool down.”

My mom agreed with me, as we were called into the office. She was surprised by my astute observation, and still tells the story 40 years later. I just remember a strong empathy with the baby, who was doing his best in a bad situation, and unaware of how to have his needs met.

The lesson here is that taking care of physical needs is key: if a kid (or any other human!) is hot, tired, hungry, thirsty, or otherwise uncomfortable they will not be performing at their best. We as parents can and should help create comfortable and safe spaces for our kids, and we can also help them endure discomfort when it inevitably presents itself.

Making and Living With Decisions

Parenting is a tough gig. It’s unrelenting, feedback is slow and difficult to interpret, and success is by no means guaranteed. And it is one of the most important activities of life, for those who find themselves doing it.

One of the hardest things for humans of all ages is ambiguity. As often as possible, collapsing ambiguity through a clearly-communicated decision is the preferred outcome. But sometimes, we make the wrong decisions.

At Christmas, we went to see a local spectacle: the CalTrain Holiday Lights train. They decorate a commuter train with holiday lights, have a band and choir singing carols on a flatbed car, and Santa and friends wave through the windows as fake snow made of soap foam flies. It’s a delight for kids of all ages, and very crowded. We were there with another family, and the kids were all playing nicely. I had to make a couple of decisions in rapid succession: Should the kids be allowed to climb on, or sit on, the big bicycle boxes? They would afford a better view but the fall would be substantial. There were a lot of kids already up there and a few of them were tearing around in a way that seemed to me to be quite reckless. I decided no, they need to stay on the ground.

They were not happy! They wanted the view, and they wanted the fun of jumping on a tall structure. They let me know that they were not happy with the decision, but abided by it mostly peacefully.

Eventually the train pulled in and they couldn’t see. At ages 8 and 5, they were small enough that they can be picked up and put on shoulders but I only have one set. Next decision: A stranger offered to lift the smaller boy for a better view. It seemed harmless and I was right there, so I allowed it, and I lifted the larger boy (glad I was working on barbell squats at the time; an 8-year-old is heavy!) and both boys had a great view.

Looking back on it, the first decision I made was probably wrong. The bins, while high and occupied, did have space and my kids are usually quite responsible. The chance that they would have participated in the reckless behaviour was low, and if they did I could have changed my mind and taken them off the bin. The second decision, to trust the stranger, turned out to be right; he made a great platform for the little guy to see and enjoy the show, and everyone got a little more holiday cheer as a result of the community action.

The good part of my first, incorrect decision, is that I stuck to it, and the kids knew that the answer, while in retrospect not ideal, was at least unambiguous.