Circa 1983 with my two big brothers. Jeff is the one holding me. Greg is wearing a Return of the Jedi shirt. My younger brother Steve hasn't been born yet.

My brother Jeff died 26 years ago today. Six days before Christmas. Nineteen days before I turned three. I remember him a little bit, but they’re probably memories of memories at this point, clung to and worn into soft fuzziness over the years.

I sat on his teenage shoulders to pick oranges, and then I stood on a chair in the kitchen while he let me ‘help’ him squeeze them into juice.

He let me pluck the strings on his guitar.

I stood at the baby gate during naptime and cried for him. I didn’t need no stinkin’ nap.

A car hit him. It was a random accident that caused a head injury that took his life. I remember this part; it’s been cauterized into my brain, made even more poignant now that I have my own children. I didn’t witness it, but I heard my mother screaming.

If you’ve never heard a mother screaming as she’s realized tragedy has struck her child, I don’t recommend it. The movies got nothin’ on real life, man.

I don’t know how my parents bore the loss of their eldest child. Growing up, having a dead sibling in the family was ‘normal’ to me, because I barely knew any different. But my parents knew. And they survived.

They put on genuine happy faces the days each of their other three children turned fifteen, the age Jeff never reached. They gave us great Christmases every year full of friends and family, even though this season marks the anniversary of his death. We went on vacations booked for five instead of six.

I never fully appreciated it until I became a mama myself. I know my kids drive me bonkers sometimes, but I don’t know how I could go on living if something were to happen to one of them. My parents didn’t just live. They thrived.

Mom and Dad, thanks for being such rockin’ parents in the face of tragedy. You guys could’ve shut down, you could’ve split, you could’ve become lost, but you never did. You taught me how to be a parent, and how to take a deep breath when life gets rough, because no matter how bad things may seem, my children didn’t die today. How can I not pull myself together over spilt milk, when you did it over death?

I love you guys. I’ll go hug your grandbabies now, and tell them funny stories about their Uncle Jeff.

He will always be missed.

I have long been a fan of John Rosemond’s parenting advice. As a matter of fact, his book on toddlers got me through some rough spots with both of my children with a shred of my sanity intact. His advice to parents from across the spectrum (biological, adoptive, step, etc.) is that “all children should be raised according to common principles, foremost of which is that parents should balance love and discipline in training children toward becoming productive, responsible members of society.”

In short, Dr. Rosemond provides a no-nonsense approach to parenting that puts parents and their children in their proper roles. Parents are to be parents (not friends) to their children, while lovingly disciplining them to become responsible adults.

I was perusing The Stir when I came across a headline reading: Advice Columnist Tells Mom Her Teen NEEDS Her Abuser. I was shocked! What kind of advice columnist would say such a thing? I was compelled to click and read more. I was absolutely floored when I read the article and found out that the ‘advice columnist’ was none other than my go-to parenting expert John Rosemond.

The article was written in response to this column, in which a mom of a 19-year-old woman asks for advice on how to handle her daughter’s boyfriend. The young man (also 19), according to the mother, is likable, not a partier, doesn’t smoke or drink, is serious about his education, and has a rational career plan mapped out. In addition, her daughter is “a responsible, level-headed girl.”

Read the rest at The Stir

You’ve heard of Mama Grizzlies, now make way for Mama Tigers. Amy Chua is a Chinese-American mom who parents her two daughters with what she calls the Chinese way. It does not involve coddling. Or a self-esteem training course.

Mama Tigers have complete faith in their children to be extraordinary, and gosh darn it, extraordinary they will be! Criticism is harsh and approval is doled out sparingly, saved for the times when the child actually excels at something.

It’s a jarring juxtaposition to the hovering helicopter parent that many moms have become these days. But wait! Isn’t a tiger mother a helicopter parent, continually constructing their children’s’ world for them to ‘save’ them from outside influences or dangers?

Not exactly. A helicopter parent strives to make life as easy as possible for their children. They cut their food, resolve their playground disputes, and practically do their homework for them. A tiger mother says, “You will sit at that table until you cut your meat and eat it because it’s time for you to grow up a little bit.”

The helicopter mom says, “I’ll do it for you because I don’t believe you can do it.” The tiger mom says, “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you can do it. I believe in you.” Which one screams love in your mind?

Perhaps our generation would be better off if more moms parented the Chinese way. Instead of perpetual children that stay on our parents’ health insurance until the age of 26, we’d have some functioning members of society. Even better, these kids of voting age might actually vote in some candidates that do more than promise them lollipops that they’ll never be able to deliver anyway.

Parents, you are not doing your children a favor by infantilizing them. Teach them the value of hard work and the sweet reward of triumph. Don’t pretend that good enough is the same as the best you can do.

Perhaps the tiger mother is too harsh for your tastes. That’s ok. There is no Parenting Rule Book, and there’s no exactly correct way to raise a child. That’s the beauty of America – we can pick and choose what we like and create our own lives outside of government oppression. If being poor and lazy seems like a better life than working your hiney off to improve your socioeconomic status, then by all means, please, live in your mom’s basement for the rest of your life. We all make choices, and all decisions have consequences.

Especially parenting decisions.

What about the poor, burdened kids raised in such strict, go-get-em homes? Are they scarred for life? It turns out they’re doing just fine, thank you very much.

Motherhood is political. Love your children, but teach them to be self-sufficient. They’ll thank you someday for it. By the way, Mom, if you’re reading this … Thank you.

Cross posted in the fabulous, newly-designed Smart Girl Nation.

My mom, ever the doting grandmother, showered Thing 2 with gifts on her second birthday a couple of months ago. As Thing 2 was (and still is) completely obsessed with Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, Gramma gave her a few DVDs of the show, including The Great Clubhouse Hunt. It has since become an almost daily must-watch in our house.

But it seriously annoys me.

Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is actually not that annoying in general, as far as preschooler shows go. I count myself lucky indeed that she’s not obsessed with Dora the Explorer, as Thing 1 was she was her age. I’ve had enough Dora to last at least seven lifetimes, and that is not an exaggeration. Anyone that’s ever sat through an episode of Dora knows exactly what I mean.

Anyway, this one particular episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse grates on my nerves.

This episode consists of Mickey deciding to throw an Easter party. Pete, being upset at not being invited, tries to crash the party and take over the clubhouse. In his attempt, he says the wrong magic words, and the clubhouse floats away. The rest of the episode follows the adventures of the other characters attempting to retrieve the lost pieces and put them back together.

That is all fine. What bugs me so much is that throughout the episode, Mickey and friends could really use Pete’s help, but Pete is busy hiding in shame. Mickey says over and over, “Pete must think I’m upset with him, but I’m really not.”

What. The. Heck.

I’d be totally ticked off if someone made my house float away. There’s nothing wrong with forgiveness, why doesn’t Disney teach that lesson? Why can’t Mickey say, “Of course I’m mad at Pete, but I’ve decided to be a bigger person and forgive him, and by the way, I wish he would come out so I could tell him that and he could help get the clubhouse back together.”

To teach children that they shouldn’t be bothered or upset when friends betray them is just wrong, in my very humble opinion. I think it is better to teach them that everyone makes mistakes, but when you forgive people, it’s possible to move beyond a superficial relationship into something real. By teaching children that they should not feel betrayed at betrayal, you’re hardly teaching them the skills they’ll need to deal with real life.

People will always let other people down, at some point or another. Why not give children real life skills, instead of teaching them to brush hurt feelings under the carpet? Along the same line, this episode seems to teach that if you betray a friend, the friend won’t care, so why is it a big deal? I think it would be better to say that betrayal is wrong and hurtful, but can be overcome in real relationships.

But maybe that’s just me.

PS- It turns out that Pete hadn’t been snubbed, but his invitation to the Easter party had merely been misplaced. It may or may not be relevant, but I thought it worthy of mentioning.

PPS- Thanks mom, for giving us this DVD, because we’ve had a lot of great conversations with our kids about it.

As I was perusing the news sites this morning, one headline in particular caught my attention: 6th-grade boy arrested for taking mom’s jewelry, giving it to female classmate… What?? Why the heck aren’t parents parenting their kids anymore? I would’ve been spanked six ways to Sunday, grounded for 3 years, and probably not allowed to date until I was 32 if I had pulled some shenanigans like that.

This story obviously warranted more attention. *click*

Here’s the whole story:

CALLAWAY — Police arrested a sixth-grade student Monday at the request of the boy’s parents, after he said he stole and then gave away more than $7,000 worth of his mother’s jewelry.

The boy told police he gave a classmate at Everett Middle School a white gold ring and a diamond ring, which he had taken from his mother’s jewelry box the previous week. When he asked the girl to return the jewelry, she gave back the white gold ring but said she “had lost” the diamond ring, according to a Bay County Sheriff’s Office report.

The boy gave a sapphire ring to another friend who, when asked, said he had given it to a female classmate, according to the report. Another boy told his friend that he could have his mother’s emerald and sapphire ring back if he gave him a reward.

The boy’s stepfather was adamant about filing charges, police reported, so the deputy “placed (him) into handcufffs (double locked) and placed him in my patrol vehicle.”

Police booked the student into the Bay County Jail on grand theft charges, and then took him to the Department of Juvenile Justice. (emphasis mine)

Sweet! I love hearing stories about good parents, and it’s even better when it’s good stepparents. I hope that kid got scared straight and never forgets the lesson of treating other people and their property with respect. I wish Congress felt the same way about me and my income.