you say you are a parent?

just earlier today i encountered one of the single most disturbing fashion concepts ever. now brace yourself...squeaky shoes. yes, that's right, shoes that squeak on purpose. now this sounds far fetched, but i assure you this was a legit shoe. who, you ask, would wear such a shoe? a three year old little girl is the answer you are seeking, and when you hear why i hope that you (like i was) will be appalled.
now, my first thought was "get that sweet little girl some new tennis shoes!" (as it was clear to me that the bubble in the heel of her nike air max was busted) however, when i exclaimed "oh my that's a loud little sneaker?!" i was told, i know they're supposed to be like that. "WHY??!!" i asked. the response, so she doesn't get lost.
now time out here. so she doesn't get lost? because your 3 year old is often on perilous adventures which could render her lost in the woods, or lost at sea, or lost in kroger which would then render you helpless because she was exploring alone without parental supervision???
really, is that the reason? no, not possible.
so after nearly having a mini-stroke in public i felt compelled to step up onto this soapbox:
i am not a parent, most of my friends are not parents, i am rarely with small children, but i am a living breathing human being with common sense and that alone affords me the right to weigh in on this victory of parenting. or rather, this lack of authority possessed my many parents.
when i was little i stayed with my parents in all situations. how did i know to do so?? because, a. i did what i was told and b. if i didn't there would have been consequences (and i was not interested in that at all). i imagine that there would have been a swat on the rear. there would have been a toy taken away. i would have heard the stern voice that my dad used when he was really mad (which tended to be far worse than any punishment he could have dreamed up). the long and short of this story is that i wasn't given the option to roam freely. i wasn't in charge of making the decisions at my house, and i didn't dispute that fact.
now i am not saying that my parents were superior to other parents...they were just superior to the ones who couldn't seem to remember where their children were. and i feel sure that my parents didn't ride the extreme wave of the helicopter parent. rather, they were just "around."
these stinking squeaky shoes irritated the pee out of me not because the kid was running around making more noise than a tickle me elmo, but simply because of what it says about the thought process of many parents. I simply can't understand the extreme lack of parental instinct. people who are intelligent, well-rounded, and travelled are running around with squeaky shoe kid for the simple reason that "watching" her would be too difficult and taxing. this 3 year old has a built in alarm because it would be too time consuming to hold her hand. she has shoes that sound like dog toys because her parents can't trust themselves to remember she exists. she is forced to annoy not only herself, but also everyone around her, so her parents can multi-task. sad.
so i make a plea to parents. please step up and be responsible for your children. please make your kids a high priority. please do not tempt them to run away from you to find greener pastures. and please please please make the decision when you are making a baby (or before) to love them so much that you wouldn't dream of losing them like your high school ring or the mystery dryer sock. this is not much to ask and i assure you it is not hard. you find your car keys and the remote without having to install a beeping tracking device... and last time i checked the kids are much bigger.
so, here's to parents, you have a tough job. here's to the parents who would love a nap but can't because your kid is on the swing set with the neighbor kid. here's to the parents who returned the baby leash they received at the shower because it just looks silly. here's to the parents who sleep with one eye open in case the boogy man shows up in the middle of the night. and here's to the parents who buy their kids plain jane quiet shoes...you may not hear them but you would never forget they are there.

champagne taste and a beer budget

my sweet dad, for the better part of my life, has supported me. i don't just mean emotionally but also financially. he paid for me to be a kid, swim on the swim team, go to about 100 formals before i graduated, drive the suv i wanted, wear the clothes that were cool, live off campus in college, support the staff at spankies, be in a sorority, travel on spring break, have the first smartphone, and the list goes on and on. i never really knew what a big deal all his spending was until suddenly, without warning, i became an adult. and not just any adult, but a single adult working for a church and living on my own earnings. aka...i got poor.
now please do not misunderstand me. this lifestyle that i deem "poor" is strictly as compared to the pretty cushy lifestyle i had before. the lifestyle which i had become accustomed. and the lifestyle that stopped so abruptly (after the 6 month adjustment period my dad granted me).
i was under the impression that when i graduated from grad school i would be a millionare. i would work 9 to 5, buy a house, go out with my friends, travel at will, and spend my funds only at the kate spade store. i thought i would be sittin in high cotton. i mean i had "lived" on the pay of a part-time youth intern and graduate assistant for years. i would be rollin in the dough now! wrong. i failed to caculate the money that trickled down from dear old dad...and well...i suddenly missed it.
now my life is nice. i have beautiful, fun, amazing friends, a great job, cozy house, nice car, and a couple of kate spade items that i love. not bad at all. the gripe is that no one really prepared me for paying my own iphone bill, or spending a small fortune at kroger just for milk and bread, or paying a natural gas bill even in the summer when my firepalce is not on, or paying a water bill for one that rivals a small family (i refuse to cut back my shower time. plus i have long hair). my parents taught me financial responsibility...they just didn't teach me that once i was on my own it would be a lot harder. they're so glass half full.
so for now i guess i will have to live with less than frequent shopping trips. i guess i will have to live with generic vitamins. i guess i will have to read paperback books rather than e-books on my ipad. and i guess for now i will have to fondly remember the days when it was deemed appropriate to charge dinner to my credit card as a mental health emergency. and remember fondly when manicures and pedicures were a staple activity every other friday. and i'll have to remember fondly the days when coupon clipping never crossed my mind. and i'll just have to be glad that i had it good...for a little whilie.

please sit still

i know this will sound so hateful, but i do not care.
please, parents, demand good behavior of your children. you are in charge (or so i thought).
it is so exhausting to go to dinner (like i just did) and fight to talk to the people at the table with you because a little boy insists on driving his hot wheel car (complete with sound effects) around the back of the booth we share. he was an adorable little boy. but he was rude. now i know that children are impulsive and that they really only know what is right and wrong based on what they have been taught. so, i can only assume that his parents had not told him that it is inappropriate to drive your hot wheels truck on a strangers seat. and even more i can only assume that he does not know that to eat your dinner you have to be facing your table. and even more than that i can only assume that his parents were not taught these things either seeing as how they were unalarmed by this display of disruptive behavior.
now i'm not trying to be a scrooge. i love children. i work with and for children. i want to see kids grow and learn and flourish. however, just because i love kids and work with them does not mean that i am capable of brushing off bad behavior as a phase, exploration, or creativity. these excuses are just that, excuses. and specifically they are excuses that parents make for failing to control their offspring and that is not the offsprings fault. i'll explain.
in my house, as a kid, i believed in my heart that my mom and dad were in charge. i believed that if i acted a fool then i would have to answer for that behavior and it could only end badly for me. i also believed that i better be good or santa would withold gifts. (fair threat...i was a saint for most of november and december without fail). now, i must add, my parents did not practice the art of spanking. a swat on the hand was about the bulk of physical touble. that said, i still behaved. not 100% of the time, but enough that i typically avoided run-ins with punnishment. and the few times i remember getting in the MOST touble was for showing my true colors in public or at someone else's house. i knew the moment i acted out that the day would end badly, but sometimes a girl just has to pitch a little fit when her bulky and unattractive snow boots do not match the frilly pink dress she has planned to sport at sears. and bulky napolean dynamite boots don't just ruin the getting ready process but all other things tied to the day.
back on track, i knew how to act. i knew when i was goofing up. i knew that i better do like i was taught. and i never lived in fear, just a healthy dose of respect. so parents, call up tim and della. ask for tips (ask my dad...you'll never get my mom off the phone). ask how they managed to love their children while also delivering dicipline. better yet call me up and ask how i have faired as an adult in light of knowing that my parents never allowed me to express my creativity by singing loudly in the movie theater. ask how i ever became a productive member of society knowing that my parents never allowed exploration without their consent.
parents, you're in charge. love your kids completely by teaching them how to function while taking direction. love them in a huge way by teaching them to respect themselves and those around them. love them whole heartedly by having honest conversations and addressing the fact that not every activity is positive. and remember, i don't have kids and would rather not share my mellow mushroom pizza with yours.