I’ve recently taken a break from Facebook. For the 5th time since my son was born 2.5 years ago. I’m hoping it’ll stick this time, because the more I think about it, the more I feel like Facebook epitomizes the biggest parenting challenge of my generation. Epitomizes, exacerbates, whatever. It provides an endless stream of information to confuse us and other people’s facades to compare ourselves against. This isn’t my mother’s parenting. There were undoubtedly things my mother had a lot harder. But in this day and age I’m starting to understand the infinite wisdom of the saying “ignorance is bliss.” Not ignorance as in stupidity or willful denial of facts. But ignorance as in your decisions only being informed by some limited basic choices before you. What you don’t know can’t throw you into a frantic state of seeking the BEST possible selection out of a dizzying array of available options and possibilities (because unfortunately there is no instruction manual for parenting and hence no universally applicable BEST thing), leading to a constantly elevated level of blood cortisol and a state of permanent anxiety from an inability to reach some unspecified heights of parenting excellence.
A few months ago, my son started going to a parents’ day out program, because we decided it was time to learn some proper “socialization.” (In fact, that’s one example of something my parents never had to worry about – there was always “society” around when I was growing up. Relatives usually lived in the same town and sometimes same apartment building; neighbors all knew each other and visited frequently throughout the day; kids constantly played together outside or at each other’s houses). My son is a product of a middle-class suburban American upbringing, an only child of professional parents who started on their parenting journey a bit late in the game (because, stability and financial security, blah blah blah), making him most likely an only child, devoid of any existing or future siblings. Our neighbors do not often stick their noses out of doors, not even the kids. And so, my son, while living in society, needed help with “socialization.”
Like all adoring and well-meaning parents, we searched for the geographically closest program available (in case he had trouble adjusting and had to be picked up at a moment’s notice), within our budget (which was slashed in half when I left my job to be a stay-at-home mother) and did some due diligence by researching reviews and feedback from other parents, all of which came back glowing. Done! Weeks went by and son was doing great in his program, giving me a much-needed breather to catch up on my freelance work and household chores. Until one day, a mommy friend (only a digital friend in a Facebook group – if you have time for friends in real life, you’re not parenting hard enough) posted something about choosing a similar program for her daughter. She described the process of analyzing the various developmental approaches (Montessori, Waldorf, perhaps even just good old-fashioned public school??!!), touring the schools, observing students in their educational environments (noting that Montessori students seemed to be curiously desk-bound, in contrast to what she read about that approach), interviewing the prospective teachers, reflecting on the necessity of a garden or some kind of pet or at least a fish tank available for the kids to be properly exposed to flora and fauna, making a list of pros and cons with her husband, reviewing the budgets to see where they could cut back in order to send their child to the “best” school… All things we didn’t do. What kind of parent sends their precious offspring to an unstructured learning environment twice a week after only checking about the proximity, affordability and a few personal reviews??!!! Why didn’t we take ALL of these other things into consideration?! Have I sent my child into a situation where his learning and social abilities will be damaged for the rest of his life? I thought I was a good Mom, but here I sit, watching Midsomer Murders and having an actual hot cup of coffee (which may… or may not… contain a shot of Baileys) while my son is being minded at an institution that doesn’t subscribe to any particular educational approach!! Cue panic and feelings of parental inferiority. Clearly, my Facebook friend loves her child more than I love mine.
Fast forward to the news of yet another school shooting. There’s talk of arming teachers. Suddenly, any organized education sounds like the equivalent of sending my child to the Western front. Clearly, home-schooling is the only safe option. This is only one example of modern parenting troubles. What about vaccinations? Do I want my child to get mumps or autism? Organic food – I don’t want him to grow man boobs from all the hormones! Is he eating the proper proportions of carbs to protein to vegetables? Is the food on his place colorful enough? Screen time – it’s damaging to their creative impulses. But don’t spend too much time engaging with them – they need to learn autonomy. That Somalian kid on YouTube is playing violin like a virtuoso at only 4 years old. Mine’s still struggling with the chicken dance. What’s wrong with him?? Breastfeed for as long as you can – it’s best for them! But not too long – that’s weird. You wouldn’t want to end up on a National Geographic cover. Your child’s feet are so high up the seat back that he’s practically busting out a complicated asana? Too bad, kids are safest facing backwards until they’re in college. Don’t dare turn them around, or you might as well throw them out of the moving vehicle yourself. Worse yet, a well-meaning Facebook interloper will take note of your transgression when you post a photo of your bundle of joy napping peacefully in the back of the car and make a point of calling you out on your substandard safety techniques. So what car seats didn’t even exist when you were a child. Today, we have options… today, we have information… We have all of the tools at our disposal to make the parenting experience as inorganic and fraught with unnecessary stress and near mental paralysis as it could possibly be desirable. So, you just sit there, modern mom, in total judgment of Betty Draper and her perfectly-coiffed, cigarette-smoking, day-drinking, child-traumatizing ignorance and feel superior in all your yoga pants-clad, dry-shampooed, checklist-conquering glory. It’s totally worth it. Your child will thank you. Or probably not.
Not your mother's parenting 