Feb. 22--Back when there were fewer LEGOs to pick up and moms and dads didn't have to spend three to four hours a day untangling iPhone charging cords, parenting was easier.
You shoved your LEGO-less child out the door in the morning and hoped he or she would return sometime before dark. Since there were no charging cords to untangle, parents had time to sit around and focus on important things, like forgetting they have children, drinking bourbon, smoking cigarettes and dying of emphysema.
It was a happier time.
Now the average American home is structurally reinforced by a phenomenon known as "random LEGO dispersion," you traverse your living room, spiderlike, on a web made of charging cords and children, needy little buggers that they are, require attention.
The joys of bourbon, smoking and dying of preventable disease have given way to LEGO mustering, phone cord wrestling and, most time-consuming of all, figuring out what type of parent you are based on constantly evolving categories.
Are you a helicopter parent? If so, you are a horrible person and should know that, according to a VERY IMPORTANT news release passed along to me last week, "there's a new breed of parents emerging called submarine parents, who allow their children to succeed or fail on their own as they lie just below the surface, ready to support them."
So submarine parenting is now a thing. Other things that are also actual things include: slow parenting; concerted cultivation, an offshoot of "positive parenting;" and panda parenting, a response to the "tiger mom" approach and arguably the most adorable of all the parenting styles.
The Internet and a seemingly endless stream of books on parenting tell us that nothing is more important than examining how we parent, placing that parenting style into a cleverly named category and then reading about why that category is worse than any other.
A piece in Principals, the National Association of Elementary School Principals' magazine, from a few years ago tried to nail down some of the existing parenting styles. There are hyper parenting (over-involved); hypo parenting (a more hands-off approach); traditional/neo-traditional parenting (one parent is the primary caretaker); book-of-the-month parenting (changing with each new fad); dry cleaner parenting (relying more on nannies or day care workers); fast-food parenting (busy parents who try to squeeze parenting into their busy schedules); and yes-parenting (where you say yes to as much as you can until you absolutely have to say no).
From other sources, I found nurturant parenting, over-parenting, narcissistic parenting (which I'm the best at), toxic parenting (which I assume is bad) and dolphin parenting, a rare style used only by people whose children have dorsal fins.
Exhausted? You better not be, because if you're a parent, it behooves you to spend every waking, non-charge-cord-detangling moment evaluating your parenting methods.
In March, a Zen parenting conference will come to the Chicago suburb of Elmhurst. What's Zen parenting? (You're a terrible parent for not knowing this.)
According to the website of conference host Zen Parenting Radio: "As a Zen Parent you learn to trust your instincts, focus on what is working, and find a healthy life balance. You make it a priority to take care of yourself and figure out what you want from life. Instead of feeling overwhelmed and stressed, you feel awake and aware. Instead of worrying about what can go wrong, you notice what is working. Instead of losing yourself, you practice self discovery."
OHMMMMMM ... OHMMMMMM ... OHMMMMMMMMY GOD I JUST STEPPED ON A DAMN LEGO!!!
I tried to put my parenting style into one of these categories, but it didn't work. I'm not helicopter, but I'm not full-submarine either. I'm no panda, but I'm certainly not a dragon.
I think my category is one most parents can relate to: Aging M1 Abrams Tank That's Low on Gas and Occasionally Can Only Drive in Circles. It's there and it's steady, it's doing the absolute best it can, it would do anything for its country (or kids, in this case), but sometimes it gets a little dizzy and feels like its tracks are going to fall off.
And you know what? I'm OK with that.
I think it's good, as parents, to reflect on how we're doing. There's always room for improvement.
But I also think time spent mastering the art of panda parenting or figuring out the best depth to submerge your parenting submarine takes away from the one thing we all know a parent is supposed to do: be a parent.
Chances are your parenting style -- your "authentic" parenting style, to borrow a popular buzzword -- is perfectly good. Your child knows you better than most people and can probably tell when you're being yourself and when you're trying to be what someone else thinks you should be.
The time you sink into workshops or books with titles like "Water Buffalo Parenting for Dummies" might be better spent helping your daughter find her LEGO (you're about to step on it with your barefoot) or helping your son research water buffaloes on his tablet, which you pray is fully charged.
We can all improve around the fringes. But maybe we're better off just focusing on being the parents we already are: lumbering, loose-tracked Abrams tanks just doing the best we can to not drive in circles.
rhuppke@tribpub.com
