<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829</id><updated>2012-01-13T01:21:51.100-05:00</updated><category term='costume store'/><category term='photos of children'/><category term='divine goddess'/><category term='misbehavior'/><category term='woods floors'/><category term='responsible citizens'/><category term='good parent'/><category term='be the parent'/><category term='civilized'/><category term='spoiled'/><category term='parenting in the twilight zone'/><category term='radio show'/><category term='romanticized'/><category term='afraid of dogs'/><category term='know what they are doing'/><category term='deal with 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term='daycare'/><category term='speech'/><category term='undress'/><category term='gifted kids'/><category term='grocery store parking lot'/><category term='elton john'/><category term='Kodak moments'/><category term='show him who is in charge'/><category term='pitches a fit'/><category term='adhd'/><category term='parents with balls to say no'/><category term='do we have to go potty'/><category term='John Rosemond'/><category term='prison culture'/><category term='afraid that kids will cry'/><category term='because i said so'/><category term='children&apos;s bad behavior'/><category term='shame'/><category term='parenting experts'/><category term='obligation'/><category term='homework'/><category term='kidswho kill kids'/><category term='tease the dog'/><category term='deaf'/><category term='chores'/><category term='advocate for children'/><category term='empathy'/><category term='sharing'/><category term='parensts have difficulty saying no'/><category term='driving too slowly'/><category term='no one tells me no'/><category term='kidnappingvalues taught'/><category term='kathleen parker'/><category term='food court'/><category term='bullies'/><category term='washington post'/><category term='eight children'/><category term='ill-mannered'/><category term='acworth ga'/><category term='kids bad behavior'/><category term='normal kids'/><category term='experiences'/><category term='dr. laura'/><category term='grow a spine'/><category term='parents'/><category term='teach manners'/><category term='prison garb'/><category term='cell phone conversation'/><category term='kids will live up to expectations'/><category term='perkins institution'/><category term='mall'/><category term='mom taught me religion'/><category term='parents not doing good job raising kids'/><category term='pnb'/><category term='keep laughing give you something to cry about'/><category term='PARENTS ASK QUESTIONS'/><category term='inflammatory'/><category term='special needs child'/><category term='never flushed toilet'/><title type='text'>Dear Parent</title><subtitle type='html'>A blog for parents who need a wake up call. Forward this blog to such parents today...make it your gift to society!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-2402014450060676775</id><published>2011-08-20T12:16:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T12:59:09.477-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking about becoming a parent?</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Pre-parent/s:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, if you are thinking of becoming a parent, congratulations--for thinking first. Many get it wrong and become parents before thinking. If they ever do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, take it from someone nearing the middle of her 5th decade and whose child is now 20. Write this down. Memorize it. Make it your manta...&lt;strong&gt;Parenting changes everything.&lt;/strong&gt; Got that? I thought not. So I'll breake it down for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Do you like your sleep? Do you wake at the crack of noon on weekends? You need a lot of sleep? Then please do not breed. Children are notorious for being awake most when you want to sleep. Babies can't wait til you've decided to wake up and tend to their needs, often before you've even had coffee. You may have to change a shitty diaper before &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; pee. That's reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't count the times female relatives and moms at large say "God, why can't he sleep past 5 am? I neeeeed my sleep." Then don't breed. Parenting is a long term project. Think before you breed if you can conform to a baby's schedule. It will be some time, if ever, that they conform to yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. If you need "stimulation" and feel that your children will hamper your "stimulation," then please do not breed until you get it out of your system. "I wanted to study photography but now that I have kids I can't. I need the stimulation!" Get a camera and learn by doing. Babies make great subjects for photos. Share kid watching duties with another mom and take some classes. Or...now that you've decided to have children realize that for the most part your wants are not gonna come first. Especially when children are small, they have to come first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Do you need to be on the go all of the times? Then you may want to delay breeding. Kids thrive on schedules and can become downright cranky when deprived of food, diaper changes, and naps in their own crib/bed and dragged from store to store to store. You may have to be on schedule...what worked for us was we got up with the son. He was washed, changed, fed. Then it was my turn. Then we ran well-thought-out errands...the grocery store, Target, drug store. Trip was planned so that it didn't take long. We would return home for some play time, lunch, then his nap. His naptime was my rest time. The afternoon was spent playing with him, and taking care of things at home instead of running the roads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Babysitters...they definitely have a place but please screen prospective sitters well, and pay them well. I see parents buy themselves new toys...iPads, GPSs, smartphones. But they pay their babysitters shit. And that's usually what they get. Or, rather, the kid gets. If you can't pay a babysitter, stay home. Or buy fewer toys. One young man we know had his daughter in attendance at his high school graduation. The first year of his daughter's life, they were given cribs, clothes toys. Now she's almost 2 and he's selling his toys and everything he can get his hands on in order to pay the rent and put food on the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With babysitter horror stories in the news so frequently, it is obvious that parents are not properly screening sitters and trusting them with the lives of their children. Unfortuantely too many children pay the ultimate price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take the time to write out explicit instructions for those who will care for your child/ren. Explain to them that shaking a baby/child can result in shaken baby syndrome and the child can die or sustain life-long brain injury. Explain to them that they should never leave your child unattended, and to never leave them near water such as a pool, bathtub, or even bucket of water. Children can drown in just a few inches of water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many things seem like common sense but common sense ain't so common anymore. Recently, a Florida woman was riding in the back of a pickup truck and with her was the baby she was babysitting, strapped into his stroller. She reportedly commented in court "It's not like they give you a hand book or anything on how, what's neglect and what's not neglect." Story here: &lt;a href="http://www2.wspa.com/news/2011/aug/19/1/woman-put-baby-stroller-back-pick-truck-ar-2296666/"&gt;Woman put baby and stroller in back on pick-up truck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Write out for the sitter what is and is not neglect. What you do and do not want them to do. If you can, hell yes have a camera in your home. Kids are more important and if someone takes a job watching your child you have every right to know that your child is being cared for. If the sitter doesn't like that, feels that her privacy is being invaded, then find another sitter. I'd welcome a camera if I were watching someone's child...because I would be doing my job and had nothing to worry about. We are filmed all the time...street corners, convenience stores, malls. Children are worth more than convenience store goods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make things easy for your sitter. Give her a schedule. Show her where things are located. Give phone numbers where you can be reached. Provide her with phone numbers of neighbors she can call if needed. If food needs to be cut up for the child, or skins removed from grapes--tell her. No one will care for your child the way you do but you can make it easier on all if you explain what should be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are nanny schools but chances are not many can afford a nanny. Most parents have to rely that the person whom they choose to care for their child has basic common sense. Who understands that her job is &lt;em&gt;to care for the child&lt;/em&gt;, not &lt;em&gt;watch the child&lt;/em&gt;. Care for. Hands on, doing the work. Being vigilant, attending to the child and his/her needs. Almost anyone can watch a child but not everyone can, or will, care for your child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There will be more but this should give you some food for thought for now. Just keep thinking before you create a child...they aren't returnable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-2402014450060676775?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/2402014450060676775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=2402014450060676775' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/2402014450060676775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/2402014450060676775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2011/08/thinking-about-becoming-parent.html' title='Thinking about becoming a parent?'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-8375111257595529011</id><published>2011-08-20T12:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T12:12:58.604-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Parent is back!!!</title><content type='html'>Hopefully those who read this blog a few years ago will find it again and pass the link on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous Parent took a few years off to concentrate on raising her son through the teen years. He is now 20 and well on his way to adulthood. I now have the time for this once again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-8375111257595529011?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/8375111257595529011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=8375111257595529011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/8375111257595529011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/8375111257595529011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2011/08/dear-parent-is-back.html' title='Dear Parent is back!!!'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-3534118549900331744</id><published>2008-02-11T09:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T13:15:01.041-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='raw meat could have dangerous germs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='e.coli'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snotty nose'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='salmonella'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='don&apos;t eat meat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children poking fingers in meat'/><title type='text'>I think I've become a vegetarian...</title><content type='html'>I don't eat a lot of meat as it is. After my last trip to the grocery store, I think that I'll be eating even less. A woman and her two kids (okay, I'll correct that, because someone will surely write to me and ask "How do you know that they were her two kids?)...A woman and two kids, who appeared to be about 3 and 6 years, were in the meat aisle of the store. I was thinking how unsanitary it was for the kids to be placing their hands in the meat cooler and then touching their faces...e.coli and salmonella thoughts were running through my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when I noticed the older boy had a very snotty nose and wiped it with his hand frequently. That's when I noticed that many packages of meat, especially the hamburger, had small holes. The older boy was using his snotty fingers to innoculate the meat in the case with his germs. I am fairly certain that the mother knows he did this. Her peripheral vision can't be that bad. I spoke up with "Um, I don't think you want to poke your fingers into the raw meat. You could get sick!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His mother tells me "Oh, he's already sick. He's staying home from school because he has a cold and infected throat." I put the pot roast back into the meat case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, well raw meat could have some dangerous germs that could make him even sicker, but she just laughed. I added "Wow, a lot of holes are in these packages of meat," but mommy says nothing. The kid grins and says that poking holes in the hamburger is the most fun because it "squishes." I don't think I like hamburger anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't just walk off and say/do nothing. I let the meat manager know what had happened, and that the mom reported that the kid had a cold and infected throat. "His ass will be infected if I catch him doing that!" Then he sighed and took a cart out to collect the poked meat. I counted 20 packages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later I wondered, what happened to that meat? Was it thrown out? Was it repackaged and put back into the case? Ick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From time to time, I pick up hotdogs from the case with teeth marks. I don't think that's a clever marketing gimmick. I've picked up apples and banannas with teeth marks as well. I have seen kids old enough to know better using their fingernails to leave nail marks in fruit. I've seen parents allowing their children to play with the candy that they have no intentions of buying. If me or one of my siblings had done such a thing, back in draconian days, we would have regretted it, and we'd still be remembering the lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the good old days when candy was behind a glass counter to keep kids from stealing or damaging it. Too bad that that there isn't a way to do that now with foods that can be damaged by children. But what is really too bad is parents who don't control their children. Who allow them to express themselves any way they want. They'll have a rather rude awakening one day and will probablly wonder why their parents never taught them better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-3534118549900331744?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/3534118549900331744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=3534118549900331744' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/3534118549900331744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/3534118549900331744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-think-ive-become-vegetarian.html' title='I think I&apos;ve become a vegetarian...'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-276180865961188425</id><published>2008-02-08T12:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T13:09:49.689-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beaming and waving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drop kids at school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='watch kids enter school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my kid is so cute'/><title type='text'>"My kid is so cute!!!!"</title><content type='html'>That's what parents must be thinking. I say parents, but I mean mothers. I've never seen a father do this...at school, that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From time to time, a friend or neighbor will ask me, for various reasons, if I can drop their kids off at school. I have to take my son to school in the same direction, so I don't mind. Today was one of those days, and I yet again experienced the "My kid is so cute!!!" mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In every carpool line I've ever had to be in, beginning when my son was in preschool, there are mommies who have to adoringly watch their offspring from the moment they get out of the car until they are inside. Usually they're waving bye bye to their child and the child doesn't even know it, as they are walking up the sidewalk and cannot see mommy's beaming face and waves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not talking about watching a child walk into school because there is no other adult around. There are usually 2-4 adults on duty to help kids out of the car, carry projects, and so on. But these mommies sit there, while the carpool line is backed into highway, waiting to enter the school driveway. They sit there waving and beaming like they're never going to see the child again. They don't care that other parents need to get to work, or that they are holding up the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, this happened again, at a middle school at that. I had one more child to drop off at the high school, and 3 minutes to spare. There I encountered yet another Beaming Mommy. Middle school! Mommy sits there waving at her daughter's back, the entire time the girl walked to the door. I gently nudged my horn, to let her know that someone else was waitiing. Her beam turned to a scowl and she waved at me, but only with one finger. Then proceeded to drive away as slowly as she could, just to be a pain. Thank God I don't have to live with such a painful person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear parent, why do you do this? I should say Dear Mom, because I have never observed a male adult do something so odd. Now, if he was dropping off his daughter at a library, mall, movies, etc., I could see sitting there to make sure she got safely inside. But at school, with other adults around whose job it is to make sure the students are safely seen into the building?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mom: Get a life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous Parent&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-276180865961188425?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/276180865961188425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=276180865961188425' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/276180865961188425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/276180865961188425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-kid-is-so-cute.html' title='&quot;My kid is so cute!!!!&quot;'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-2559966879188390047</id><published>2008-02-08T12:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T12:53:40.124-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new post'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='experiences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work from home'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anonymous parent'/><title type='text'>I'm baaaack!</title><content type='html'>Thanks for the comments and the emails, asking when I would post again. I only post when I have something to say about my experiences. In the past month or so, I haven't had many experiences to write about. I work from home and am on deadline to finish my book manuscript by June. So, in addition to working, writing, and tending to the home fires, there has not been a lot of time for blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I do have an experience to relate. So I will now get to that. New post coming shortly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous Parent&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-2559966879188390047?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/2559966879188390047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=2559966879188390047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/2559966879188390047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/2559966879188390047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2008/02/im-baaaack.html' title='I&apos;m baaaack!'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-935475597876925851</id><published>2008-01-26T13:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T13:16:48.844-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dear teen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new blog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anonymous parent'/><title type='text'>New blog</title><content type='html'>I started a new blog today, it is self explanatory. Your thoughts are appreciated. Thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://dearteen.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dear Teen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous Parent&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-935475597876925851?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/935475597876925851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=935475597876925851' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/935475597876925851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/935475597876925851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-blog.html' title='New blog'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-1739231793777732815</id><published>2008-01-23T08:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T08:18:24.303-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hard working'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='obligations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emails'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='comments hurtful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reading'/><title type='text'>This blog is not abandoned!</title><content type='html'>I've had some comments and emails asking when I will post again. My day job comes first and once I've caught up with work and obligations, I will resume posting...within the week. Thanks for reading!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous Parent&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-1739231793777732815?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/1739231793777732815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=1739231793777732815' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/1739231793777732815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/1739231793777732815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2008/01/this-blog-is-not-abandoned.html' title='This blog is not abandoned!'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-1229836574420482344</id><published>2008-01-11T09:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T10:30:27.341-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='attack my puppy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stranger'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids to work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dear parent'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paint'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work from home'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='afraid of dogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='woods floors'/><title type='text'>Taking your kid to work</title><content type='html'>Dear Parent,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not like it when you bring your kids to work. I work from home and I do not like it when I have to put my work on hold to keep your child safe and out of my things while you take care of plumbing problems, fix my washing machine, or whatever you are in my home to do. I especially did not like the painter who brought his son into our under-construction house. Your son stepped in paint and then walked all over the wood floors and up the stairs. Why was he upstairs? Why was he in my home to begin with? And why couldn't you have cleaned up the paint?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not like it when a child is brought to my home, and then informed that said child is afraid of dogs. "Could you put your dog in the bathroom?" No, I can't. He knows a stranger is in my home and he wants to be near me. YOU can take your child home. "I'm givin' the missus a break, I take him with me when I have to make calls so that she can have some peace." Give &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; a break! When my child was young, I didn't take him to my spouse's office when I needed a break. I sucked it up and did my job. You are here to do a job, and I am not a free babysitter. And I don't want my bathroom destroyed by my dog so that your child can run around my home. Sorry that you had to take your child home. But I write the check, I write the rules. I'm just odd that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of dogs, Dear Parent, my neighbor was not amused when the roofer brought not only his 3-year-old son to the job site, but his dog. The lab decided my puppy looked like a tasty snack. I couldn't enjoy sitting outside because your dog wanted to attack my puppy. And Dear Parent, knowing that the home that you were roofing was on the water, what made you even &lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt; about bringing your young child? You couldn't possibly watch him. I know, because he was constantly in my yard and at my back door, wanting me to play with him, or get him juice. This 3-year-old was unattended all morning while you worked on the roof. After lunch, he was unattended until it was too dark for you to work. I could tell when you arrived the next day that you were not happy that the neighbor and I asked that you keep your dog and child at home. Blaring your horn at 6:30 a.m. is so immature. Blasting the music on your boom box was annoying. But karma can be a bitch. A lot of homes were damaged in the Hurricane. The neighbor and I did not give you a good recommendation when asked. We simply said "He brought his 3-year-old to the job site, and his dog, and he blasted his music. If you choose to use him, you might want to make sure that he leaves his family at home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are not the only instances in which service people have brought their children to the job site. Maybe it is custom in this general area, who knows. But it is not a local custom in which I want to participate. It is rude, and it is not safe for your child. Several years ago, didn't you read in the newspaper about the 3-year-old who strangled to death in his carseat straps while his dad and grand dad cut wood for the family business? They said that they checked on him every 10 minutes while he watched a DVD. I'm not buying that. In any case, their child paid the ultimate price because the missus needed a break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In times past, children often worked at the knee of their parents. They learned skills and a trade this way. If you can figure out how to roof a house while teaching your 3-year-old the trade, and keep him safe, and not bother the homeowners and neighbors, great! If you can teach a child to fix a washing machine or paint a room and keep him from destroying the home and aggravating the owners, great! But don't expect us to babysit, feed, and toilet your child. That's what God invented babysitters for if the missus isn't up to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regards,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anonymous Parent and had-it-up-to-here homeowner&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-1229836574420482344?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/1229836574420482344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=1229836574420482344' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/1229836574420482344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/1229836574420482344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2008/01/taking-your-kid-to-work.html' title='Taking your kid to work'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-5205778954707918942</id><published>2008-01-05T12:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-05T12:26:58.683-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flip the bird'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='technology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ran a red light'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='annoying'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='driving too slowly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grocery store parking lot'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cell phone users driving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cell phone conversation'/><title type='text'>Hang up and parent</title><content type='html'>Most of us see them every day, cell phone users who driving while under the influence of technology. Sometimes it is just annoying being behind someone who is driving too slowly while concentrating on their phone call. Other times it is downright dangerous, such as the clown who nearly plowed into us when he ran a red light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And like the times Dear Mommy is walking from the parking lot to the store yakking on her cell while Dear Toddlers toddle around and nearly get hit by cars. Or when Dear Daddy is walking down the street with his Dear Daughter. He's so engrossed in his cell phone conversation that he crosses the street without looking, holding his daughter's hand. It was a difficult near miss. Dad stopped his conversation long enough to flip the bird. Nice lessons for your daughter there, Dad. Walk across streets without looking for traffic, flip off driver who nearly hits you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there's the Dear Mommy in the grocery store parking lot with a toddler in her lap and a cell phone at her ear. She doesn't see the elderly lady and her companion already crossing to the parking lot from the store and barely misses hitting them. When asked "Do you know that you nearly ran over two people while you were talking on the phone?" she has no clue. And driving with a toddler in her lap shows that she's either more clueless, or just irresponsible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Someone will likely ask "Didn't you call the police?" about the mom with toddler in her lap while driving. Yes. And they promised to send someone out to check on it. But by then, Dear Mommy was in the store shopping.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's an idea: A Surgeon's Warning label on cell phones: "Driving and talking is hazardous to your health and the health of others. Hang up and drive." Everyone thinks that they "can handle it," but probably have no clue they may have nearly caused an accident. Reacting to a situation is delayed while talking on the phone. And seconds can be the difference between a "that was close!" and disaster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe a label reminding parents to keep an eye on their kids while chatting, too. But if someone can't remember the basics of looking before crossing a street, and watching your kids in the parking lot, then labels probably wouldn't do any good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-5205778954707918942?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/5205778954707918942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=5205778954707918942' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/5205778954707918942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/5205778954707918942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2008/01/hang-up-and-parent.html' title='Hang up and parent'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-525298498050548469</id><published>2008-01-02T12:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T12:49:53.877-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='little monsters'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='it&apos;s a good life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='empathy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting experts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sociopath'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting in the twilight zone'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='obligation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='remorse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shame'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misbehavior'/><title type='text'>Parenting in The Twilight Zone</title><content type='html'>One of the things that I love about this time of year is watching the Twilight Zone marathon. As I was watching yesterday afternoon, there was an interesting episode, titled &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's a Good Life&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the story of a six-year-old boy who did not like it if people thought "bad thoughts" about him. He destroyed anyone or anything that he didn't like, or caused him any upset. No matter what bad thing he did, including hurting animals, he was told "That's a good thing you did."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reminds me a lot of kids and parents today. Parents tiptoe around their kids, afraid to cause them any bad feelings. If a child never feels bad about it when he does wrong or hurts someone, he won't be a very pleasant individual to be around, to say the least. Some "parenting experts" have written that parents shouldn't make kids feel bad about their misbehavior. How about that? I wonder if they really believe that? Who in society does not feel bad about hurting others? Sociopaths! Sociopaths feel no empathy, no remorse, no shame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we have to make children feel bad about their misbehavior. Ignoring the misbehavior isn't helpful to them, or to society. Parents have an obligation to raise their children to benefit society. By not doing so, we run the risk of turning kids into little monsters. And little monsters grow up to be big monsters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-525298498050548469?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/525298498050548469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=525298498050548469' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/525298498050548469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/525298498050548469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2008/01/parenting-in-twilight-zone.html' title='Parenting in The Twilight Zone'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-645128153561182063</id><published>2008-01-01T12:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-01T12:28:05.232-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='civilized'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wild ways'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spoiled'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deaf'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='helen keller'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meningitis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='speech'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='normal baby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='annie sullivan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blind'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vocal chords'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scarlet fever'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gifted'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='perkins institution'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='finger spelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='undisciplined'/><title type='text'>Wrong about Helen Keller...</title><content type='html'>An email from a reader tells me "Your facts about Helen Keller are wrong. She did have speech! So why bring her up?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helen Keller was born a normal baby. By the time she was 19 months old, she was very ill and not expected to survive. Some today think that she may have had scarlet fever or meningitis. It was soon discovered that she was deaf, blind, and she did not have speech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The family sought help for Helen when she was about 6 years old, and Annie Sullivan came into her life. Before Ms. Sullivan could teach Helen, she had to tame Helen's wild ways. Speech was not an early part of her training; Ms. Sullivan used her fingers to spell out words into Helen's hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Helen was 9 or 10 years old, she and Annie Sullivan went to live at the Perkins Institution, where Annie Sullivan had had her training. Mary Swift Lamson attempted to teach Helen to speak, but Helen never attained normal speech. The following link says &lt;em&gt;"This was something that Helen desperately wanted and although she learned to understand what somebody else was saying by touching their lips and throat, her efforts to speak herself proved at this stage to be unsuccessful. This was later attributed to the fact that Helen’s vocal chords were not properly trained prior to her being taught to speak."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;article:  &lt;a href="http://www.rnib.org.uk/xpedio/groups/public/documents/publicwebsite/public_keller.hcsp"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;The Life of Helen Keller&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now what I wonder is, why does it matter if Helen spoke or not in later life? The fact remains, Helen was wild, spoiled, and undisciplined. She had to first be civilized before she could be taught anything. The same with many kids today. Many teachers write that they can't teach because they first have to first teach manners, teach kids to sit quietly and listen, to take direction from an adult. They have to teach them to enter a room quietly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Helen Keller, with three handicaps, can be civilized, why can't today's children be civilized? I remember sitting in a park some years ago listening to a mother go on and on about how gifted her kid was, how he was a champ in everything he did. As she spoke, His Giftedness was bullying the younger kids on the playground and letting air out of bike tires. He may have been gifted. But he was an ill-mannered brat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-645128153561182063?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/645128153561182063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=645128153561182063' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/645128153561182063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/645128153561182063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2008/01/wrong-about-helen-keller.html' title='Wrong about Helen Keller...'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-8331401056822843703</id><published>2007-12-30T12:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T13:33:28.501-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tease the dog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teach manners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='never flushed toilet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='juice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thanksgiving holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='made a mess'/><title type='text'>Readers write...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Below are excerpts from my email, used with permission of the writers. I'll post more later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Anonymous Parent,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for your blog! Here's what happened over our Thanksgiving holiday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousin is in Iraq this year, so we invited his wife and their 3 kids to stay with us for four days. Our kids are nearly grown, and we don't expect perfection from kids. We know that they are naturally louder and more energetic than older folks. I didn't take into account for spoiled rotten, however. A few instances: On the first morning I asked the girl (age 5) if she wanted milk or juice with her breakfast. She replied milk, so I gave her a cup of milk. She tasted it and spit it out all over the table. Thinking it was spoiled, I tasted it and it was fine. She cried that it wasn't what she was used to. Her mom warms it in the microwave with a teaspoon of honey. No one told me, and mom was still asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys (7.5 year old twins) asked for soda for breakfast. I told them that I don't keep soda in the house. They said well can't you go out and get some? I told them that the next time I went to the store that I would pick up some soda. But they could have milk or juice. They drank the juice but made rude comments about not having soda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 5 year old girl never flushed the toilet when she was done. She did wash her hands, however. But she turned the faucets on full-force and made a mess, which of course she didn't clean up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys would tease the dog and try to take his food away from him, and he'd growl and snap at them. I started feeding the dog on the screened porch, and they'd still go out and tease him. I had a talk with mom before something happened. I didn't want anyone to get bitten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom said that since their dad had been deployed four months earlier, the kids wouldn't listen to her. I told her that I loved having them for the holiday, but that there had to be some rules and routine because I was being worn out taking care of their messes and putting up with their rudeness and backtalk. She replied "Well, why did you invite us here if you didn't want us?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next few days were hard. Mom pretty much left the kids to me (I couldn't blame her much, she'd been the only parent for four months, and many more months to come she'd be the only parent). My husband and two kids (17 and 19) helped with the cooking and cleaning. But it was difficult living with 4 people who spoke so rudely and demandingly to us. I feel sorry for those kids, if they aren't taught some manners soon, and learn how to be grateful, it will be hard for them. And as you write, hard on society!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for your blog!&lt;br /&gt;-Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I don't know if you want to print this but if you do, you have my permission. My brother and his wife came to visit us on Thanksgiving day. They brought their kids, a 4 year old boy and an 8 year old boy. The den where the TV is located is just off of the kitchen. While I was cooking dinner, the boys would complain that I was making "too much racket" and they couldn't hear the TV! Their mom actually asked me if I could "keep it down a little" so they could hear. I told her that I could use some help in the kitchen and that she could mash the potatoes. Since the mixer made too much noise, I told her she could use a spoon or something. She said well, why don't we mash the potatoes when their show is over? I should have done that and served them cold potatoes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;-Anonymous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-8331401056822843703?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/8331401056822843703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=8331401056822843703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/8331401056822843703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/8331401056822843703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/12/readers-write.html' title='Readers write...'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-5660955673980190689</id><published>2007-12-28T13:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T14:15:26.233-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='touchy-feely'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='romanticized'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='negative comments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ill-mannered'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advocate for children'/><title type='text'>Posting "only negative comments"</title><content type='html'>A couple of readers have asked why I only post negative comments about parents and children. That's the &lt;em&gt;point&lt;/em&gt; of this blog. It is not a touchy-feely, romanticized blog about how wonderful children are. Some children are wonderful, some are not. Some parents are wonderful, some are not. The are-not children and parents cause misery and trouble for others. Not-wonderful parents are doing their children a disservice by not teaching them properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you to parents who are raising their children properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If one wishes to read blogs/websites about how wonderful kids are, the 'Net is full of such. If one does not want to read "negative" comments about parents and children, then one should find another blog to read. I'm fed up with ill-mannered kids running roughshod over others and parents who don't do anything about it, or, even worse, egg them on and laugh at them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've been warned...if "negative" comments on ill-mannered children and their parents bother you, this blog is not for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-5660955673980190689?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/5660955673980190689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=5660955673980190689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/5660955673980190689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/5660955673980190689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/12/posting-only-negative-comments.html' title='Posting &quot;only negative comments&quot;'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-3655631939916903532</id><published>2007-12-28T10:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T14:19:49.577-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crappy parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='special needs child'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='normal kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abused'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='down syndrome'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='John Rosemond'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gifted kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='neglected'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='foster care'/><title type='text'>"Your story doesn't sound real"</title><content type='html'>My post on ""No" at the mall" has elicited a good number of comments, and a good number of emails as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some don't believe that my experience "really happened." Well, it &lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt; kind of unreal. Bordering on surreal. But real, nevertheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why would someone doubt it? There are bad parents out of there of "normal kids" (does anyone even &lt;em&gt;have &lt;/em&gt;normal kids anymore?), there are bad parents of gifted kids, and there are bad parents of special needs kids. Because one has a special needs child does not automatically qualify one for Parent of the Year. Too many of them are abused, neglected, and in foster care. My hat is off to &lt;em&gt;any&lt;/em&gt; parent who is doing their job &lt;strong&gt;well&lt;/strong&gt; of raising their kids, special needs or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One comment in the post ""No" at the mall" told how her boyfriend's parents apparently didn't do such a great job of raising their Down Syndrome son, and now want their other son to take care of the brother when the parents are no longer able. Is that person making up her story?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sticking our heads in the sand helps no one. Crappy parents have all kinds of kids. Even gifted kids. A relative of mine has 2 gifted kids (according to the public school system). I know more about the "problems" of gifted kids than I want to know. I'm regaled at family get togethers over the last round at the school, everything the mother talks about has to do with her gifted kids and their education. It's like a cult-thing. But these gifted kids (8 and 11) have yet to manage such basic manners as "please" and "thank you." They can't seem to figure out what that napkin is for, that older people and ladies go first, and that one does not fart at table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this reminds me of an article that I read some years ago, written by John Rosemond. It describes parents who raised their Down Syndrome son to be responsible, instead of babying him and making his life such that he would be a burden to his future guardians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Article:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.washingtonpublishers.com/JohnRosemond/03_16_2006_parenting_at_its_best.htm"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Parenting at its best&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-3655631939916903532?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/3655631939916903532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=3655631939916903532' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/3655631939916903532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/3655631939916903532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/12/your-story-doesnt-sound-real.html' title='&quot;Your story doesn&apos;t sound real&quot;'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-5886272214413461853</id><published>2007-12-25T10:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-25T14:43:23.801-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mall'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deaf'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='helen keller'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='no is the hardest word'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adhd'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bipolar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mute'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food court'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='addicted to TV'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blind'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grabbing food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='aspie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='odd'/><title type='text'>"No" at the mall</title><content type='html'>Circumstances almost beyond my control had me in two places that, on normal days, would be no problem. But this wasn't a normal day...it was Christmas Eve. And the places were a mall and a grocery store. Perfect places and time to observe human nature, however, and I had plenty to observe. First, the mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never eat at food courts. Over-priced artery clogging fare is not my idea of food. But I was being treated by the person whom I had given a ride to the mall. Fortunately, I was able to find something that wouldn't trigger an intestinal upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I'm eating with the person who had needed a ride to the mall to do some last-minute shopping, a little boy of about 6 had been running around several tables and grabbing food from the trays of those with whom he was sitting (when he sat). He then runs by our table and attempts to grab food from my tray. Knowing what he had been doing, I lifted my tray in time and told him "No, this is my food." Hearing no, he reacted violently by kicking my table and then threw himself to the floor and screamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His mother comes over and talks to him soothingly about the "bad person" who told him no, to come back to the table and she'd give him some cookies. She then looks at me and tells me "He's an Aspie." I asked her what that meant. "You should educate yourself! And you should learn that they have rights!" I asked if Aspie's had the right to snatch food off of the tables of total strangers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a clue for the Mom of Aspie: We all have rights. And we all have responsibilities. And we all have obligations. I didn't say that to Mom of Aspie, though. I asked her a question:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you familiar with the story of Helen Keller?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said yes, she'd read the book as a child and had seen the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I asked her about Helen's early life before Annie Sullivan arrived. Did she remember what Helen was like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom of Aspie's face drained of color but she didn't say anything. I reminded her that Helen had been described by family and friends as "wild, like an animal." She grabbed food from the plates of those she dined with. She ran around and knocked things to the floor. She'd hit and scratch if she didn't get her way, so she always got her way. And her father began to recognize that this could not go on, and so he looked for someone to help Helen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annie Sullivan is often called The Miracle Worker, and is believed by some to have used behavior modification before anyone else. Those who know the story know that Helen went on to do great things for the rest of her life, accomplishing more than many people who were &lt;em&gt;not &lt;/em&gt;Deaf, mute, &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; blind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a child who had that many handicaps can overcome them and become world-famous, responsible, and a help to others, why cannot the children of today who are labeled Bipolar, ADD/ADHD, ODD, Aspie, and so on be trained and worked with so that they, too, can accomplish great things? Will drugging them and letting them get away with mistreating other people truly help them? Will it help society?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would advise that parents get and read a copy of any of the books on Helen Keller's life and apply the methods she used to civilize a Deaf, mute and blind child.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-5886272214413461853?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/5886272214413461853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=5886272214413461853' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/5886272214413461853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/5886272214413461853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/12/no-at-mall.html' title='&quot;No&quot; at the mall'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-8200219878947280409</id><published>2007-12-22T10:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T10:10:38.248-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mom taught me religion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clean underwear'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='because i said so'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='keep laughing give you something to cry about'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='appreciate a job well done'/><title type='text'>What mothers taught in the old days...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;This was sent to me by a reader, author unknown. If anyone knows the author, I'll be happy to credit the source.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM TAUGHT ME TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE&lt;br /&gt;"If you're going to kill each other, do it outside, I just finished cleaning!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM TAUGHT ME RELIGION&lt;br /&gt;"You better pray that will come out of that carpet!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM TAUGHT ME ABOUT TIME TRAVEL&lt;br /&gt;"If you don't straighten up, I'll knock you into next week!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM TAUGHT ME LOGIC&lt;br /&gt;"Because I said so, that's why!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM TAUGHT ME FORESIGHT&lt;br /&gt;"Make sure you wear clean underwear in case you're in an accident."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM TAUGHT ME IRONY&lt;br /&gt;"Keep laughing and I'll give you something to cry about!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM TAUGHT ME ABOUT THE SCIENCE OF OSMOSIS&lt;br /&gt;"Shut your mouth and eat your supper!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM TAUGHT ME ABOUT CONTORTIONISM&lt;br /&gt;"Will you look at the dirt on the back of your neck?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM TAUGHT ME ABOUT STAMINA&lt;br /&gt;"You'll sit there until all that spinach is gone!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM TAUGHT ME ABOUT WEATHER&lt;br /&gt;"It looks like a tornado went through your room!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM TAUGHT ME HOW TO SOLVE PHYSICS PROBLEMS&lt;br /&gt;"If I yelled because I saw a meteor coming toward you, would you listen then?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM TAUGHT ME ABOUT HYPOCRISY&lt;br /&gt;"If I told you once, I've told you a million times-don't exaggerate!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM TAUGHT ME ABOUT BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION&lt;br /&gt;"Stop acting like your father!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM TAUGHT ME ABOUT ENVY&lt;br /&gt;"There are millions of less fortunate kids in this world who don't have wonderful parents like you do!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And most of all.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM TAUGHT ME THE CIRCLE OF LIFE&lt;br /&gt;"I brought you into this world, I can take you out!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-8200219878947280409?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/8200219878947280409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=8200219878947280409' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/8200219878947280409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/8200219878947280409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/12/what-mothers-taught-in-old-days.html' title='What mothers taught in the old days...'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-541971239840279126</id><published>2007-12-22T09:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T09:56:29.865-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='no one tells me no'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='afraid that kids will cry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents not saying no'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='struck a nerve'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='making kids happy'/><title type='text'>More on "No"</title><content type='html'>My observations about parents not being able to say "No" to their kids must've struck a nerve with many folks, if the amount of emails received is any indication. Thus far I've received more email on that post than any other so far. One teacher writes that when she told one of her third grade students no, he couldn't do something, he looked at her and replied "No one ever tells me no." I can believe it. I can almost count on one finger how many times I hear parents say the "n" word to their kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder why that is? Are they afraid that their kids won't like them? That's absurd. Their kids tell them "No!!" all the time, and don't they still love their kids? Are they afraid that their kids will cry? So what if they cry? Oh, that means that kids are unhappy, if they cry. Well, if parents think that it is their job to keep kids happy that won't help them much in life. Once kids are in school, sports, jobs, do the parents think that everyone is going to make their child happy? Kids will be expecting to be made happy. Making them happy for today won't prepare them for tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can almost hear it now, are we supposed to make our kids miserable? Should we neglect their happiness? No, just parent them. Correct them when they need it. Teach them manners, and expect them to use them. Teach them how to behave in someone else's home. If they misbehave or are rude to their hosts, have them apologize and then take them home. Don't make everyone else miserable so that your child is kept happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that too many parents don't say no to their kids because they are uncomfortable with the thought that their kids may be unhappy. But I think that too many parents also don't use the word no because they're afraid of what other parents might think. Parents are supposed to seem thoughtful and intelligent and talk to kids and reason with them and "redirect" them. Anything &lt;em&gt;but&lt;/em&gt; the dreaded no word! Bargaining is big... "If you come with me now, without a fuss, we'll stop at the ice cream store on the way home." My grandmother would've said "You git yourself in that car right now or you'll be fortunate to see next week." That grandma...she never was one for talking things out. And we minded her. We knew she wouldn't beat us, but we were scared to not obey her. She also had no problem saying no. And that was good for us. We weren't always &lt;em&gt;happy&lt;/em&gt; about it, but it was good for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Parent, stop trying to make your kids happy and do what is good for them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-541971239840279126?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/541971239840279126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=541971239840279126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/541971239840279126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/541971239840279126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/12/more-on-no.html' title='More on &quot;No&quot;'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-5046095138931522825</id><published>2007-12-21T12:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T09:09:36.783-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sorry seems to be the hardest word'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parensts have difficulty saying no'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='elton john'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='no is the hardest word'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday party'/><title type='text'>Recent observations and musings</title><content type='html'>Elton John may sing "Sorry seems to be the hardest word," but, when it comes to parents and their children, it seems that parents have great difficulty uttering "No," while their children have no problems doing so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, some friends who live in a lovely three-story home had an open house party. Families were invited. Most of the children were well-behaved. One girl, about age 7 or 8, wanted to explore the house. Even though our host and hostess greeted us at the door and showed us into the area where the festivities were taking place on the ground level (bedrooms and a study are on the second floor, the upper level is where the host and hostess do their painting, writing, and so on...it is their business area, and it is not childproof. Their children are grown, so there is no need to put their work away). The girl immediately heads up the stairs. The parents don't say anything, so the host says "Sweetie, the party is down here. Let's see what goodies we can find." The child ignores him and continues on up. The hostess goes up the stairs and turns her gently around and says "This area is private and off limits. There is lots to do and see downstairs, and other children have arrived. Let's go see them!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both the host and hostess were tactful, while the Dear Parents stood there acting like they've never said "no" before. The child then screams "I want to see upstairs!" and the mom looks at the host like "What's the big deal?" Neither parent says "No, honey, that area is off limits," or anything of the sort. Dad finally says "I guess they don't want people upstairs, so let's go find some candy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A boy about 11 years old goes back for thirds on desserts, bypassing people in line who haven't had any yet. Mom says "Rotney, don't you think you should let others have a turn?" Rotney replies "No, there's plenty for them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A two-year-old screams "Noooooo" when her parents ask if she needs her diaper changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being an observer of human nature, I mentally note how parents and children interact and find such observations very interesting. I'm keeping score on how many time I hear parents say "No," and how many times children say "No." Actually, most children say "No!!!!!" Very emphatic "no," you know where they stand. Parents can't even get out a simple "No." They ask questions "Wouldn't you like to...?," or "Don't you think...?," or "Isn't it time to...?" So far, the kids are winning (only for the short term, many parents don't see 'the big picture'). Dear Parent, NO is simple, so simple a child can say it! Even a two-year old!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Parents, if you have a hard time saying No to your child now, wait until they are teens. And if they never hear No from you, they will not like it when they hear No from teachers, coaches, or the nice policeman. With apologies to Elton John, "No" seems to be the hardest word.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-5046095138931522825?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/5046095138931522825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=5046095138931522825' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/5046095138931522825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/5046095138931522825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/12/recent-observations-and-musings.html' title='Recent observations and musings'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-8634291778309731885</id><published>2007-12-09T12:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T12:58:10.552-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='evidence parents aren&apos;t doing their job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='too cute family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='empty nest syndrome'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos of children'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='comments hurtful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chronic illness'/><title type='text'>The Too Cute Family, Part Two</title><content type='html'>From the comments I've received, several readers have a problem with what I posted regarding the Too Cute Family. That my comments could be hurtful. Or, what if I should one day come down with a chronic illness, who would listen to me moan and groan about it? (I'm paraphrasing but the original comments are in the post below).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my looking at photos of children is my payment to others so that they'll listen to me moan and groan? Number one, I do have a chronic illness. I have it, but it doesn't have me. Number two, I don't moan and groan about it or bore people with details. Most people don't even know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What inspired my original post was receiving the link to a family website that had 23 pages. Correction: 23 pages of &lt;em&gt;thumbnails&lt;/em&gt;...each photo, about a dozen &lt;em&gt;per page&lt;/em&gt;, had to be individually clicked on to view it. One reader said that it is easy to ignore websites (again, I'm paraphrasing the original comment). Not so in this age of stat counters that show where traffic comes from, ISP used, browser, etc. If you try to fake it "That one of Timmy going down the slide backwards was so cute," and that was the only photo you looked at, they come back with "Didja see the one of Susie with the clown, and the one of Timmy eating the snow cone, and the one..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the parents that I know, especially those with young children, seem to be making this photo thing a hobby. Scrapbooks, websites, email attachments, photos by the dozens when you meet them at the grocery store. I truly don't get it. And I am truly bored by it. I love hearing what my friends are up to, but it seems that all many of them are up to is photographing their children's every move. I asked a woman that I know "So, what have you been up to?" "I'm exhausted! All I do is take the kids to karate, soccer, swimming, art classes, gymnastics, drama, Kindermusic," etc., etc., etc. Sad that so many parents give up having a life once they have children. One can still have interests besides having children, without neglecting them. What a concept!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One website showed a little girl wearing not less than 15 outfits, mainly dresses. I remarked to the mother "Susie sure has a lot of dresses!" The mom then confides that Susie may only have one or two dresses...she "buys" clothing, hides the tags, has her daughter photographed in the clothing, and then returns the items to the store. Incredible. Seeing my shocked expression, she says "Oh, all the moms do it!" Not all the moms. It never occurred to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My beef is with the constant barage of photos, and videos. Being invited to the homes of some people for a meal ends up being pizza on our laps while watching videos of the Too Cute Family, and having to "oooh" and "aaah" over the videos. Then there are the video links to youtube they want us to watch. Don't these folks have a life? What are they going to do when these children grow up and don't want to be dressed up and photographed anymore? What are the parents going to do when the kids leave home? Kids do grow up, and too fast. I think that those are likely the parents who will suffer big time from the empty nest syndrome. And may be the meddling in-laws, destined to become out-laws.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-8634291778309731885?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/8634291778309731885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=8634291778309731885' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/8634291778309731885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/8634291778309731885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/12/too-cute-family-part-two.html' title='The Too Cute Family, Part Two'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-4658514997723789092</id><published>2007-12-05T10:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T11:53:43.725-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family websites'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kodak moments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scrapbooks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday parties'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='too cute family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos of children'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute family'/><title type='text'>The "too cute" family</title><content type='html'>From time to time, I receive emails from friends and family with photos of their children, or links to family websites. They are not interesting in the least, except maybe to immediate family. Why do these "Kodak moments" have to be shared on websites with anyone other than the immediate family? If they were interesting photos...The Louvre, for instance. Or the Leaning Tower of Pisa, or the Grand Canyon, maybe. But no. Here's Mommy and Junior taking a nap. Here's Mommy and Sissy taking a nap. Here's Daddy and Junior taking a nap. Here's Daddy and Sissy taking a nap. What, no Mommy and Daddy taking a nap?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do parents, mothers, think the whole world is interested in seeing their napping pictures? "Look how cute we are!" is what they seem to be saying, but why? It never occured to me to take family nap photos, let alone think of sharing such photos with the world if we had taken such photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's Sissy in the sand. Here's Junior in the sand. Here's Daddy and Junior in the sand...Ooooh. The Cute Family at the beach. Quick, someone write a book with a Movie of the Week deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's The Cute Family and birthday parties. They aren't interesting in &lt;em&gt;real life&lt;/em&gt;, why would we care about &lt;em&gt;photos&lt;/em&gt; of the parties? Dear Parent, most of us aren't interested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are the scrapbooks that the Mommy's of The Too Cute Family put together. Dear Parent, when you've seen one photo of your kid, we've seen them all. Twenty shots of the same kid standing on the same steps is a tad repetitive. I'm sure that you are aware of all of the nuances of your children's expressions, but they all look the same to us. Whole scrapbooks are tedious to sit through. We don't care where you got the special blue paper (unless we ask), or the little miniature sports stickers and doo dads. When I see the scrapbooks coming out, I quickly remember a dental appointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only are photos of other peoples kids boring, but I wonder about the "why" of the whole thing...why does the Too Cute Family (can't blame the kids for what the parents do) want the whole world to see them in the intimate moments of napping? Why do they want us to see the birthday parties, the gifts, every move they make? All kids have a First Day of Kindergarten/Preschool, why are we interested in yours? The only thing that I can think of to say is "That's too cute!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure that you take that as a comppliment, Dear Parent. But think for a moment before sending out photos of the family that should stay in the family. What is it that you are saying by sending the photos out to the world? "Look how cute we are"? I take it as a form of showing off. Not an admirable quality. And those of us who do not engage in such showing off wonder what happened to your brain once you became a parent!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-4658514997723789092?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/4658514997723789092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=4658514997723789092' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/4658514997723789092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/4658514997723789092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/12/too-cute-family.html' title='The &quot;too cute&quot; family'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-211489049008557122</id><published>2007-12-02T15:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T15:57:55.348-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grow a spine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='share'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents shrug their shoulders'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='be the parent'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sharing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i tried'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents need to act'/><title type='text'>More dumb questions parents ask...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;"Don't you think that you should share that with Susie?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Bratney thought that she should share, she would share. Sharing is something that one teaches children from early on. Children do not wake up thinking "Today, I think I'll share!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"How many times do I have to tell you...?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One should do it. But parents tell and tell and tell, and Rotney refuses to listen. Then the parents shrug their shoulders and say "I tried." Mule muffins! Dear parent, grow a spine. Don't pretend that you are &lt;em&gt;telling&lt;/em&gt; your child anything. You're just making noise. You need to &lt;em&gt;act&lt;/em&gt;. Tell once, at the most. Then act. Be the parent!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-211489049008557122?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/211489049008557122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=211489049008557122' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/211489049008557122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/211489049008557122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/12/more-dumb-questions-parents-ask.html' title='More dumb questions parents ask...'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-6518338076681741952</id><published>2007-12-02T14:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T14:40:29.167-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='armchair parent'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='breeder'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daycare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dear parent'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='license plates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mommyism'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happily childfree'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='good parent'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pnb'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feminism'/><title type='text'>I'm a PNB! And proud of it!</title><content type='html'>I received an email from a reader who said that my blog was refreshing "coming from a PNB." I didn't know what a PNB was, so I Googled it and learned that a PNB "Stands for “&lt;strong&gt;Parent, Not Breeder&lt;/strong&gt;” – in other words, a good parent, not a shitty parent. As in: “My brother is a PNB”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reverse is "&lt;strong&gt;BNP -- Stands for “Breeder, Not Parent&lt;/strong&gt;” Some people use the term BNP instead of “Breeder” because it sounds less insulting. It basically refers to a bad parent (in contrast to “PNB” – a good parent.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These definitions, and more, are located at this website: &lt;a href="http://happilychildfree.com/glossary.htm"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happily Childfree/Glossary of terms&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warning: Not for the humor impaired! Dear Parent, please read these definitions. Even some of us PNB's agree with the terms. Such as "&lt;strong&gt;Mommyism&lt;/strong&gt; -- A form of feminism that focuses on getting special rights for mommies and screwing over childfree women and men in the process. Example: Mommies want flextime in the office, but don't think anyone but them should get it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen women in the grocery store, kids in tow, deciding that the line was too long for them to wait and, if no one would give in to their sighs and rude stares, they'd walk out with their hot prepared foods muttering "I'll pay for it next time." Yeah, right. And like the rude mommies who've just picked their kids up from daycare after work and make rude comments about those of us there sans child "Why can't those people shop earlier in the day?" They bitch that "we" (anyone without a kid with them) make life harder for them because we don't shop when it is convenient for them! The same ones who proclaim that stay at home mommies are letting their brains go to mush, but then ask the mush-brains to run errands, close windows if it rains, and wait for packages and deliverymen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don't even get me started on mommies who have their kids names hanging on their necklaces, their license plates, their screen names, and so on. It is easy to see who rules those roosts! Parents, once you become parents, do you suddenly forget that you have a spouse (if indeed you have one, of course)? Do you forget that you were a person before you had kids, with hobbies, interests besides what color Bratney's poop is, or what age Rotney toilet trained??? Parents, act like you have a brain! Cut the cutesy sing song voice, ditch the "mama2joey" screen name, the "4kds4me" license plate. Read a book with more than 20 words in it, read a newspaper, go to museums. Have a life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-6518338076681741952?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/6518338076681741952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=6518338076681741952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/6518338076681741952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/6518338076681741952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/12/im-pnb-and-proud-of-it.html' title='I&apos;m a PNB! And proud of it!'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-9084666832111548401</id><published>2007-11-30T17:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T23:06:19.958-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='do we have to go potty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dumb questions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions parents ask'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PARENTS ASK QUESTIONS'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chicken nuggets'/><title type='text'>Dumb questions parents ask</title><content type='html'>Why is it that parents can't seem to do a damned thing without asking their kids dumb questions? Due to circumstances of late, I found myself in the grocery store at one of the worst possible times - shortly after school let out. A mom was shopping with 2 kids, a boy about 8 and a girl who looked to be around 4 years old. Mom asks the girl "What do we want for dinner?" (what is it with parents and plural pronouns?) The little girl replies "chicken nuggets." Mom says "sweetie, we had chicken nuggets last night. Let's pick something else. " "I want chicken nuggets!" "Sweetie, mommy thinks we should have something else tonight..." and on it went. If "mommy" wanted to serve something else, why did she ask the kid? Why didn't she just choose what she wanted to serve? I think that parents go out of their way to make it harder on themselves. And then they wonder why they're so tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The 5 dumbest questions I hear most often:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Do we have to go potty?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't Mom know (I've never heard a Dad ask that question) if she has to go or not? Why is it "Do WE have to go potty"? And why are you asking the kid? (excuse me, &lt;em&gt;child&lt;/em&gt;. I was told by a reader that "a kid is a baby goat." Um, that's apropos more often than not.) Why not &lt;em&gt;take &lt;/em&gt;the kid/child...you see them do the "potty dance," take them to the bathroom! I've &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; heard a child say "Yes, I do have to go potty now, thank you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Do I have to spank you?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you even have to ask, the answer is (psychologically/politically incorrect) probably yes. I've also never heard a child say "Yes, I do believe that I could use a good spanking now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Aren't you cold? Don't you want to wear your coat?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom, if you got up off of your butt and ran around as much as your child does, you'd be hot, too. Children have a higher metabolism. If they were cold, I'm fairly certain that they would ask for a coat before they froze to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Don't you want to eat that?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the child wanted to eat whatever it is, he would. If he leaves it there, he doesn't want to eat it. If you want him to eat, just tell him to eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. It's time to go home now. Are you finished playing?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You just set yourself up for that one! You got the first part right...it's time to go home. Asking "are you finished playing" almost guarantees that you'll soon end up countng to three. Readers know my take on that: &lt;a href="http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/11/do-you-want-me-to-count-to-three.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you want me to count to three?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How to contact me. You can leave a comment, or email me at &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;DearParent@gmail.com&lt;/span&gt; Due to the number of emails I receive, it could take a few days to respond. Thanks for understanding.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-9084666832111548401?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/9084666832111548401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=9084666832111548401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/9084666832111548401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/9084666832111548401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/11/dumb-questions-parents-ask.html' title='Dumb questions parents ask'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-1211868283342733150</id><published>2007-11-27T11:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T12:56:24.918-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eight children'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mother bought her son guns'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marie osmond'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fabric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='designs dolls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rehab'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dancing with the stars'/><title type='text'>Marie Osmond</title><content type='html'>I acknowledge in advance that this post will likely erupt into a flames war. Flame suit is on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand Marie Osmond. The mother of 8 children, I wonder how much time she actually spends with her children? I understand that she's a singer, a dancer, she designs dolls, and has a new line of quilting fabric out this year. In addition, she has a line of sewing machines and embroidery sewing machines. Plus her various charitable works, and I've probably only scratched the surface. Is she trying to keep up with her brothers? Out do them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just the practices alone for the Dancing With the Stars has to be time consuming and grueling. Parenting is time consuming enough; when does she sleep? It was recently revealed on Larry King Live that her 16 year old son is in rehab. Her daughters were in the news in the not too distant past for their bawdy Myspace pages. Admitting to "whoring" and so on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Marie entertains the world and busies herself with so many distractions, who is mothering her kids? Who is teaching them that it isn't safe to post about their sexual lives on the Internet? Who is there supervising, knowing who their friends are, knowing where they are, talking with them, teaching them? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can she continue to 'dance with the stars' while her son is in rehab? I suppose it would be politicaly incorrect to comment "Nero fiddled while Rome burned"? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marie isn't the only one following her bliss, I realize. But many women and girls look up to her. Once one decides to bring children into this world, one should make them a priority. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I know that kids without working parents can have problems, too. But I would bet anything that parents who are there for their kids, working or not, will have fewer and less severe problems. I seriously doubt that Marie needs the income from her various endeavors...but I do not doubt that her kids need her. Once they're grown - and it happens too fast - she will have the rest of her life to find her bliss.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-1211868283342733150?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/1211868283342733150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=1211868283342733150' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/1211868283342733150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/1211868283342733150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/11/marie-osmond.html' title='Marie Osmond'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-289271994959972692</id><published>2007-11-25T15:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T16:09:29.460-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teach manners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teach kids how to be a guest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inside voice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children&apos;s bad behavior'/><title type='text'>Thanksgiving from hell</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Below is an email, reprinted with permission, that I received from a reader. Dear Parent, wake up! Teach your kids how to be a guest in someone else's home! Teach them manners...teach them to use an inside voice...teach them to not go upstairs unless given permission...teach them that a closed door means that they are to NOT enter unless invited to do so. I, too, have had guests with children who seem to think that, since we invited them, that we should put up with their children's bad behavior. It isn't cute, Dear Parent. It isn't amusing.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Anonymous Parent,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I first read your blog a little over a week ago and, at first, I didn't like it. I thought you were one of those people who hate kids or something! I am due to give birth to our first child in six weeks, and am in the stage where anything to do with kids is of interest to me. Until Thanksgiving Day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided, since we are soon to be parents, that we would have families come to our home for the Thanksgiving meal. We invited family and friends to come early to watch the parade on TV and have hot cocoa and doughnuts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About an hour before the meal was to be served, I noticed that it had become quiet. I didn't see many of the children around. I thought that perhaps they were outside. I went upstairs to rest for a few minutes and to change my clothes. When I went upstairs, I heard noise from the nursery, which is all ready for the new baby. Six children were in the nursery (the door had been closed, and, when I grew up, one did not enter a room if the door was closed. We thought that was a rule that everyone respected!). I had about a dozen or so wrapped baby gifts that had not yet been opened, as well as wrapped Christmas presents for family. These children had opened the gifts and played with them, strewing paper and boxes everywhere. Two children had climbed into the crib and jumped up and down, and had pulled down the mobile. The bassinet was turned over, and there were muddy footprints all over the carpet. I called my husband to come up and he was shocked at the mess. He brought their parents upstairs to view the damage, while I went on to my room regroup, de-stress, and change my clothes. There were several preteens lying on my bed, watching my TV, and eating snacks, which they had spilled. I nearly lost it right then and there. I didn't know things were going to get even worse...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom had been helping me to prepare food for our guests. I asked her to come up and remove the older kids and take them to their parents. I went into my bathroom, and met the worst mess I've ever seen. One of the four year olds, a girl, had had a bowel movement. She wiped herself and threw the paper into the toilet. But then she removed the messy, wet paper and applied it to the walls of the bathroom, which had just been wallpapered. The wet mess seeped down the paper and under the baseboard trim. There were pieces of messy papered stuck all over the walls, the back of the door, the vanity, and the shower glass door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The parents of this little girl said to my husband and myself that we will soon know what it is like to be parents. They laughed and said how "creative" their daughter is. The did not offer to clean up the mess, nor did they offer to reimburse us for having to have the room cleaned and papered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I probably handled it very badly...I asked everyone to go home. I couldn't deal with a wrecked house (we didn't expect it to remain immaculate, we knew things would be spilled and were okay with normal wear and tear). We had to pay a company to come in and clean up the bathroom, and it will have to be repapered.I have never experienced this level of disrespect. The adults seem to have the "kids will be kids" attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am determined to raise my child to be respectful, and, when we go out with our child, to know where our child is and what he/she is doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for writing your blog. I hope more parents read it and take it to heart. If someone made a movie out of what our Thanksgiving Day was like, I don't think people would believe it. I am still stunned that parents think that rude, disrespectful, and damaging behavior is okay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a new reader&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-289271994959972692?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/289271994959972692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=289271994959972692' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/289271994959972692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/289271994959972692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/11/thanksgiving-from-hell.html' title='Thanksgiving from hell'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-3279708279444802805</id><published>2007-11-21T07:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T08:03:08.137-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nuggets of gold'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anti-feminist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='radio show'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kathleen parker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inflammatory'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dr. laura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='do the right thing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advocate for children'/><title type='text'>Dr. Laura and Kathleen Parker</title><content type='html'>I've been asked several times over the past few days why I link to Dr. Laura and Kathleen Parker. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not listened to the Dr. Laura radio show for over 10 years. I often agreed with &lt;em&gt;what&lt;/em&gt; she said, but not &lt;em&gt;how &lt;/em&gt;she said it. One can make a point without being inflammatory. Her radio show was on during the time that I took my young child to school, and I don't feel that her program is one that young children should be exposed to. It was a half hour drive to school, and I didn't my child going to school with Dr. Laura ringing in his ears!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Dr. Laura is an advocate of children. There is good advice on her website about teaching them responsibility, there is advice for those who want to make a go of staying home with their kids. One does not need to agree with 100% of what a person says...take the nuggets of gold and leave the rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kathleen Parker has been descibed as "anti-feminist." This isn't a blog for feminism, it a blog for parents to read and "do the right thing," as Dr. Laura says. Parker's column likewise has nuggets of gold for parents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take what we need, and leave the rest. Simple.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-3279708279444802805?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/3279708279444802805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=3279708279444802805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/3279708279444802805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/3279708279444802805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/11/dr-laura-and-kathleen-parker.html' title='Dr. Laura and Kathleen Parker'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-2501488770400362785</id><published>2007-11-20T15:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T16:09:48.094-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hard working'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me first attitude'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='industrious'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big picture parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='responsible citizens'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='asset to society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kind'/><title type='text'>The "big picture"</title><content type='html'>It seems that today, parents don't keep the "big picture" in mind...what do they hope their children will be like as adults? Industrious, hard-working, good citizens, responsible? Or petulant, lazy, unmotivated with a "me, first" attitude?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If parents want their children to grow up to be responsible citizens, hard-working and an asset to society, many of you are going about it the wrong way. Giving kids too much, when they want it, and you're liable to raise kids with a "gimmee" attitude, and thankless to boot. Kids who do not learn to delay gratification and work for what they want, saving for what they want, grow up to expect a paycheck just for showing up. They expect the best, without having to work for it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think ahead to what kind of adult you want your children to be. And then chart--and stay--the course. Assign them regular responsibilities. Teach them manners, and require them to use them. Dear Parent, a child of 7 or 8 calling his mother a "poopy head" is not funny. Teach them to save by requiring them to save. Don't give them everything that they want. Teach them what wants and needs are. Be a good role model...don't buy things just because someone else does. Volunteer in the community, and have your children do so. If you want them to be kind, treat them with kindness. "You moron!" is not kind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think ahead, Dear Parent, because the future is closer than it seems. Think about what kind of adult you want your child to be, and then act accordingly. Keep the big picture in mind. You aren't raisng children, you're raising future adults. You have a responsiblity to your child, and to society.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-2501488770400362785?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/2501488770400362785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=2501488770400362785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/2501488770400362785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/2501488770400362785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/11/big-picture.html' title='The &quot;big picture&quot;'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-5055491645992537495</id><published>2007-11-19T13:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T13:59:52.934-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='unhooked'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hooking up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cluelessness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oral sex'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='laura sessions stepp'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clue phone'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kathleen parker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='washington post'/><title type='text'>"...and we thought cluelessness was for teenagers."</title><content type='html'>That was a line from Kathleen Parker's recent column. In her column, she tells about a teen girl being interviewed about "hooking up" by an author. Here's the excerpt from the column in question:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;As one young woman explained "hooking up" to Washington Post writer Laura Sessions Stepp (author of the book Unhooked): "First you give a guy oral sex and then you decide if you like him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This conversation took place in the family room of the girl's home. Immediately after that definition was served, the mother offered Stepp a homemade cookie. And we thought cluelessness was for teenagers.&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mother &lt;em&gt;served cookies&lt;/em&gt;??? I'd have been tossing my cookies. Mom, answer your clue phone by reading the book Unhooked, Laura Sessions Stepp. And, for on-going homework, I sentence you to reading Kathleen Parker's column every week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.orlandosentinel.com/news/opinion/columnists/orl-parker1807nov18,0,1616873.column"&gt;Once upon a time, when marriage preceded sex&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-5055491645992537495?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/5055491645992537495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=5055491645992537495' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/5055491645992537495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/5055491645992537495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/11/and-we-thought-cluelessness-was-for.html' title='&quot;...and we thought cluelessness was for teenagers.&quot;'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-5744799689159308726</id><published>2007-11-19T10:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T10:57:51.375-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sexual assault'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='do you know where your kids are'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kidnappingvalues taught'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys charged with rape'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='acworth ga'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='know what they are doing'/><title type='text'>Where are your kids?</title><content type='html'>Dear Parent,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know where your kids are? Do you know who they are with? Do you know what they are doing? Apparently the parents of several children in Acworth, GA, did not know where their kids were. Three boys - all of ehe ages of &lt;strong&gt;8&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;9&lt;/strong&gt; - are charged with rape, kidnapping, sexual assault and false imprisonment for an attack on an 11-year-old girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That such an attack happened with such young children makes me wonder what they are exposed to in the home, what values they are taught. Where were the parents of these children? At this age, parents should know where their kids are, and with whom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wsbtv.com/news/14635513/detail.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Three young boys arrested in rape case&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-5744799689159308726?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/5744799689159308726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=5744799689159308726' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/5744799689159308726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/5744799689159308726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/11/where-are-your-kids.html' title='Where are your kids?'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-1802028489965306426</id><published>2007-11-18T17:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T17:19:55.629-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='9mm assault rifle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents not doing good job raising kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='suice of 13 year old'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mother bought her son guns'/><title type='text'>More evidence...</title><content type='html'>More evidence that parents are not doing a good job of raising their kids. Read what some mothers did, along with their daughter's, and it led to the suicide of a 13-year-old girl. And it doesn't appear that there's a thing that the cops can do about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/11/17/internet.suicide.ap/index.html"&gt;Parents say fake online 'friend' led to girl's suicide&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there's the mother who bought her son guns. He's 14 and threatened to shoot up his school. Doesn't &lt;em&gt;every&lt;/em&gt; mother buy her 14-year-old a 9mm assault rifle? And I wonder why his parents didn't know that he was in posession of "a cache of guns, knives, and hand grenades." There's your sign...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/10/11/student.arsenal.ap/index.html"&gt;Police: Bullied boy, 14, arrested for weapons cache&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-1802028489965306426?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/1802028489965306426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=1802028489965306426' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/1802028489965306426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/1802028489965306426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/11/more-evidence.html' title='More evidence...'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-317713364387370627</id><published>2007-11-18T15:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T15:49:51.975-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='undress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prison garb'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deal with consequences'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='insulted'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hoochie mamas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='prison culture'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misbehave'/><title type='text'>Insulting and judgmental</title><content type='html'>If one is insulted because I take umbrage with the way kids (mis)behave and (un)dress in public, then good! Maybe you will wake up and get rid of hoochie mama/prison garb that your kids wear. When my kids wanted such clothing, they were told "When you are no longer living in this house, you may dress however you want to dress, as long as you can afford it and deal with any consequences." One kid piped up "Well, by then I'll know better!" The kid already knew. Sometimes, kids want parents to make the decisions. &lt;em&gt;Most of the time&lt;/em&gt;, I believe they do want us to make the decisions. Then they can tell their friends that they can't do whatever because of their parents...they don't want to be grounded, lose use of a car, leave the house to go out in public, and so on. No child of mine would leave the house looking like she's ready for a night of sex. Just call me old-fashioned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judgmental? I'll cop to that, too. We are all judgmental. We judge the restaurants we eat at, the movies we see, the people we come into contact with. If we were not a judgmental society, anything at all would go. Even crime. It's heading in that direction now, and it is time for more people to be judgmental. PC crap will get us in an even worse mess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-317713364387370627?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/317713364387370627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=317713364387370627' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/317713364387370627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/317713364387370627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/11/insulting-and-judgmental.html' title='Insulting and judgmental'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-4518980098646913530</id><published>2007-11-18T14:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T15:36:38.896-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teen boys cursing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='armchair parent'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hoochie mamas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='evidence parents aren&apos;t doing their job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dear parent'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='insulting and judgmental'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids will live up to expectations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting not a spectator sport'/><title type='text'>What evidence do I have?</title><content type='html'>Another email, from another parent. &lt;em&gt;"You sound like you don't think very highly of parents. What evidence do you have that parents aren't doing their job? Your posts are insulting and judgmental"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What evidnce do I have that parents today aren't doing a good job? Where do I begin...the evidence could fill a book. Many books, in fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a restaurant recently, two teen boys were cursing up a bluestreak while their parents stood by and didn't say a word. I often hear parents calling their kids "stupid," "dummy," moron," "no good," "lazy" and so on. Kids will up or down to your expectations, but many parents are too damned wimpy to set standards or expectations. That might mean they'll actually have to &lt;em&gt;do &lt;/em&gt;something when the kid misbehaves. Lord forbid Mom should get up off the computer or Dad should get up from the TV. The world is full of armchair parents. Hey, Dear Parent! Raising children is NOT a spectator sport!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More evidence: Teen girls walking around looking like hoochie mamas. "Princess" on the bottom of her short, short shorts. "Made you look" across the chest of a T-shirt that was well filled out. Boys with pants so baggy, the crotch is at their knees. There's your sign...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Parent, is it realy your desire to see your daughter's emulating the Hooters waitresses, or your son's emulating the prison culture? I, for one, don't want to look at your daughter's cleavage, her belly button, or any other part of her intimate anatomy. I do not want to see your son's butt crack or his underwear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More coming soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-4518980098646913530?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/4518980098646913530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=4518980098646913530' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/4518980098646913530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/4518980098646913530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-evidence-do-i-have.html' title='What evidence do I have?'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-5996657300323982623</id><published>2007-11-17T08:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T09:57:09.522-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='demanded it'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter is a diva'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spoiled'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='give in to kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Halloween'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pick our battles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='costume store'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cried'/><title type='text'>...There wasn't anything I could do about it.</title><content type='html'>I received an email from the mother of a 3-year-old. Mom writes &lt;em&gt;"My daughter was a diva for Halloween, too. But there wasn't anything I could do about it. She saw the diva outfit in a costume store and demanded it. She cried and carried on when I showed her some other darling costumes. Sometimes, we have to pick our battles and give in to kids when they truly want something. It doesn't make them spoiled. She loves her costume so much that I can't get her to wear anything else."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She isn't spoiled? She &lt;em&gt;demands&lt;/em&gt; what she wants, and mom gives in to keep the peace. She &lt;em&gt;won't&lt;/em&gt; wear anything else? Alrighty then. I hope mom is saving now for the caretaker she may need in her old age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I disagree that mom "couldn't do anything about it." If my child had pitched a fit in a store, we'd leave without having purchasing anything. Been there, done that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about just bringing home what you want them to wear, or helping the child to make a costume? You might not win the approval of the other moms, but so what? Does their approval mean anything? Will the world end without it? Think of what is good for your family, not how it looks to others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom, your clue phone is ringing...the rest of the world is not going to give in to your daughter's demands. You need to become an authority in her life before she goes to school. She needs to learn to listen, to take "no" for an answer, and to be obey authority figures. Before she can grow up, you need to grow up and become the parent. YOU should not be kowtowing to your child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mom who thinks that there's nothing she can do about a child who is demanding needs a reality check. She should keep reading this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;* Note to readers: Thanks for the comments on this blog and for the emails. I promise to respond to them all as quickly as possible. And yes, I do intend to "rock on." Thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-5996657300323982623?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/5996657300323982623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=5996657300323982623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/5996657300323982623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/5996657300323982623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/11/there-wasnt-anything-i-could-do-about.html' title='...There wasn&apos;t anything I could do about it.'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-4606020250393365963</id><published>2007-11-16T08:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T09:18:03.617-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homework'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter is a diva'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diva camp'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spoiled kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diva parties'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diva'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='divine goddess'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chores'/><title type='text'>"My daughter is a diva"</title><content type='html'>I saw a cute little girl dressed for Halloween at a mall not too long ago. I asked her what her costume was...not really a princess, but something girly. Her mother haughtily replies "My daughter is a diva." I've been hearing diva this and diva that for the past year and it seems to be catching on like wildfire. An Internet search on diva shows a "Camp Diva" website which says that the Diva Campers have "...a light in their eye, a spring in their step, a positive outlook on life. She is a divine goddess." Alrighty then. I wonder if these "divine goddesses" have chores, wait their turn, and do their own homework? Do divine goddesses even go to school? I can imagine a classroom of divine goddesses. Do divine goddesses need math, history, and English?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot imagine uttering the words "My daughter is a diva." Does that make them more special than non-divas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked several women with daughters if they've heard of this diva thing. "Heard of it? OMG, we &lt;em&gt;live&lt;/em&gt; with it!" I wanted to ask &lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt; they live with it, but thought maybe they were diva wannabees or they had to keep up with the other moms. &lt;em&gt;My daughter is more diva than your daughter&lt;/em&gt;, I guess. One mom told me about a website that has ideas for diva parties, and her daughter wants "everything on the website, and everything pink, for her party." I bet she wants diva-worthy gifts as well. What &lt;em&gt;does&lt;/em&gt; one get a diva for her eleventh birthday? After spending "only $500" on a party, she still wants gifts. Amazing. Whatever happened to cake and ice cream and playing outside with friends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think of the divas of today and wonder how they will treat their elderly parents one day. I can't imagine a diva cleaning up after mom and dad, changing them, helping them to eat. If a child is elevated to diva and "divine goddess" status as children, what on earth kind of adults will they be? Expect to be waited on, instead of volunteering in their community? Time will tell, but a diva by any other name seems to be adding up to "spoiled child." The kids may be having fun now, but spoiled kids generally grow up to be unpleasant people to be around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-4606020250393365963?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/4606020250393365963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=4606020250393365963' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/4606020250393365963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/4606020250393365963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-daughter-is-diva.html' title='&quot;My daughter is a diva&quot;'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-3663989740795233958</id><published>2007-11-15T21:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T21:56:09.520-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='count to three'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sponge bob square pants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mom looks desperate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grown up decisions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='show him who is in charge'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pitches a fit'/><title type='text'>Do you want me to count to three???</title><content type='html'>If I've heard that once, I've heard it a million times. Is that the best that parents can do? Little Jimmy doesn't want to leave the ice cream store and pitches a fit. Mom stands there and asks simperingly "Do you want me to count to threeeeee?" Jimmy howles louder. "Okay then. One." Long pause, Jimmy obviously isn't getting with the program. "One and a half." I wonder if she'll go for one and three quarters? Personally, at this point, I'd sell. "Two." Goody! We're getting somewhere and only three minutes have passed. "Two and a half..." Mom looks desperate now. She knows everyone is watching. We're thinking "Why the hell don't you just pick him up and take him to the car? Why not show him who is in charge?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay then, you're going to make me say three and you know what'll happen then. No Sponge Bob Square Pants after dinner." Little Jimmy couldn't care less. Mom is about to lose her cookies, and he knows it. "Okay then, three. No Sponge Bob tonight. Let's go now sweetie or you won't get dessert, either." Eight minutes have passed. Mom is sweating. Management is starting to get worried that customers will leave. Little Jimmy looks all set to keep going, when an older woman walks up to him and says "Young man, get up off of that floor, take your mothers hand and GO HOME!" Jimmy is so startled that he stops howling, gets up off the floor, takes his mothers hand and says "I want to go home now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about that? Parents, take a lesson from this older woman, and from Jimmy. Kids don't want you to count to three. They want direction. Don't put them into the position of having to make grown-up decisions. The kid looked to be about three years old...when you're ready to leave, take his hand and leave. Don't ask him if he's ready to go. Tell him "It's time to go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be a wimpy, wishy-washy touchy feely parent. Take charge. Be the parent. 'Cause if you don't, you'll make me do something really dramatic like count to three, and you wouldn't want that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-3663989740795233958?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/3663989740795233958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=3663989740795233958' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/3663989740795233958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/3663989740795233958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/11/do-you-want-me-to-count-to-three.html' title='Do you want me to count to three???'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3811874576377575829.post-6416999706998868399</id><published>2007-11-15T13:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T13:52:54.633-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids bad behavior'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='electronic media'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='addicted to TV'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kidswho kill kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents with balls to say no'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clue phone'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video games'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids who kill animals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bullies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='computer'/><title type='text'>About this blog...</title><content type='html'>Dear Parent,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This blog is about you. I am a parent as well. I am sick and tired of your kids bad behavior. Unruly children disrupting other diners in restaurants. Neighborhood bullies. Kids who kill animals. Kids who kill other kids. Kids who terrorize their classroom. Are your children addicted to TV, computers, video games, drugs, alcohol?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are you, Dear Parent? Are you yakking on the phone to all your friends? Are you on the computer, oblivious to your children? Are you working to buy more stuff to give your kids to keep them out of your hair? Here's your clue phone ringing: They don't NEED more stuff. They need YOU. They need a routine, structure, and parents with the balls to just say NO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your kids need chores. They need to know what responsibility is. They need parents who are adults and make the decisions. They need a normal bedtime, not out running the strets at all hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have to work to buy groceries, pay the rent/mortgage? Fine. This blog is not about bashing parents. THIS IS YOUR WAKE UP CALL! While you work, do you know where your kids are? Are the supervised? Do they have chores, are they doing their homework? Or are their brains being addled by electronic media?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that many parents are not raising their kids properly. For those who are doing it right, this blog is not about you, so save your umbrage. How do I know that many parents are not raising their kids right? Keep reading this blog and you will see what I mean. Stay tooned...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3811874576377575829-6416999706998868399?l=dearparent.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/feeds/6416999706998868399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3811874576377575829&amp;postID=6416999706998868399' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/6416999706998868399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3811874576377575829/posts/default/6416999706998868399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearparent.blogspot.com/2007/11/about-this-blog.html' title='About this blog...'/><author><name>Anonymous Parent</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07476892828466127161</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
