Brian Kantz, Buffalo, NY-based writer and editor

THE NEWBIE DAD - DECEMBER 2008

The Relentless Pursuit of Imperfection

Ah, yes. December. It’s that time of year again. Time to head over to the local Lexus dealer and pick out a sweet holiday present for the wife. You know, maybe another one of those shimmering luxury sedans, loaded with every amenity a driver might need. I’ll stick an oversized red satin bow on the roof, hide the car in the garage, then leave the keys near the coffee maker. The next morning… surprise! Look, honey, I bought you another Lexus, the car advertised for its “relentless pursuit of perfection.”

Not.

In reality, our 11-year-old Toyota with the six-digit mileage will just have to make it through one more year. No Lexus, no luxury, no perfection for now. And that’s OK, because perfection is highly overrated anyway.

Take kids. There is such a natural instinct and desire, as a parent, to make sure that everything is absolutely perfect for your kids. We never want to see our children hurt — physically or emotionally. So, we set about smoothing the road. We make sure that they learn to roll over, walk and talk according to prescribed timetables. We sign them up for the right activities and the right school. We steer them away from real and perceived dangers.

I’ve caught myself doing this over the last four years with my two sons. And I’m trying to snap out of it. I have to constantly remind myself to be a responsible parent, but also to let them explore and let them be children. This summer, for example, when the two boys started charging up a hill covered in ankle-high grass and mud, I yelled out, “No, come back here!” Thoughts of ticks and soiled sneakers raced through my head. Then, I snapped out of it. Am I really the parent who won’t let their kids run up a hill at the local park? Come on.

Soon after that summer day, my aunt sent me an e-mail reminiscing about her childhood. Just a generation ago, kids were allowed to get a little dirty. She wrote about adventures with her older brother, my Uncle Bill: “Billy took me down to the forts in the backwoods that he and his friends dug to play army in. These holes were not little foxholes, but multi-room forts with ladders down the sides. He took me out on the roof of the garage to play cops and robbers. He taught me how to box, and never spared bloodying my nose because I was a little girl. He’d hold one long arm on my forehead and laugh at me as I swung furiously, my little arms too short to ever reach him.”

So, what has changed in the last thirty years? For one, today’s parents are held to the standard of perfection. A little girl going subterranean, jumping out on rooftops and boxing? If a child did that today, her parents would be questioned by the authorities. Or worse, they might end up on Fox News.

Today’s parents are conditioned to act this way — to protect their children to the n-th degree and to provide perfect little worlds for their perfect little kids. The trouble is, as a child grows, more is required to keep things perfect. One day you’re trying to get your kid to avoid muddy shoes, the next you’re helping them avoid responsibility for missed homework. And so parents hover over their child, shielding them from “bad,” doing work for them, and challenging anyone or anything that might get in the path of perfection.

For as much good as we think we’re doing for our children, though, I have to wonder how much bad we might be doing as well. What’s going to happen when our children grow up and move out on their own? Will they be equipped to deal with work situations that don’t always go their way? Will they need their parents to talk to the boss for them? What are we teaching our kids about personal responsibility? What are we teaching them about what it means to be a parent? These are some big questions.

A wise person — actually, it was a wise fish named Dory in the movie Finding Nemo — gave this advice to a parent about his child: “You can’t never let anything happen to him. Then nothing would ever happen to him.” That’s good advice, even if it did come from a fish.

As we head into the new year — as crazy as this may sound — I’m resolving to make my kids’ world a little less perfect and to demand less perfection from both me and them. I want to see what the boys can really do. I think we’ll all be better for it.


Brian Kantz



		© 2008 Brian Kantz • All rights reserved • Contact Brian

	THE NEWBIE DAD - DECEMBER 2008 The Relentless Pursuit of Imperfection Ah, yes. December. It’s that time of year again. Time to head over to the local Lexus dealer and pick out a sweet holiday present for the wife. You know, maybe another one of those shimmering luxury sedans, loaded with every amenity a driver might need. I’ll stick an oversized red satin bow on the roof, hide the car in the garage, then leave the keys near the coffee maker. The next morning… surprise! Look, honey, I bought you another Lexus, the car advertised for its “relentless pursuit of perfection.” Not. In reality, our 11-year-old Toyota with the six-digit mileage will just have to make it through one more year. No Lexus, no luxury, no perfection for now. And that’s OK, because perfection is highly overrated anyway. Take kids. There is such a natural instinct and desire, as a parent, to make sure that everything is absolutely perfect for your kids. We never want to see our children hurt — physically or emotionally. So, we set about smoothing the road. We make sure that they learn to roll over, walk and talk according to prescribed timetables. We sign them up for the right activities and the right school. We steer them away from real and perceived dangers. I’ve caught myself doing this over the last four years with my two sons. And I’m trying to snap out of it. I have to constantly remind myself to be a responsible parent, but also to let them explore and let them be children. This summer, for example, when the two boys started charging up a hill covered in ankle-high grass and mud, I yelled out, “No, come back here!” Thoughts of ticks and soiled sneakers raced through my head. Then, I snapped out of it. Am I really the parent who won’t let their kids run up a hill at the local park? Come on. Soon after that summer day, my aunt sent me an e-mail reminiscing about her childhood. Just a generation ago, kids were allowed to get a little dirty. She wrote about adventures with her older brother, my Uncle Bill: “Billy took me down to the forts in the backwoods that he and his friends dug to play army in. These holes were not little foxholes, but multi-room forts with ladders down the sides. He took me out on the roof of the garage to play cops and robbers. He taught me how to box, and never spared bloodying my nose because I was a little girl. He’d hold one long arm on my forehead and laugh at me as I swung furiously, my little arms too short to ever reach him.” So, what has changed in the last thirty years? For one, today’s parents are held to the standard of perfection. A little girl going subterranean, jumping out on rooftops and boxing? If a child did that today, her parents would be questioned by the authorities. Or worse, they might end up on Fox News. Today’s parents are conditioned to act this way — to protect their children to the n-th degree and to provide perfect little worlds for their perfect little kids. The trouble is, as a child grows, more is required to keep things perfect. One day you’re trying to get your kid to avoid muddy shoes, the next you’re helping them avoid responsibility for missed homework. And so parents hover over their child, shielding them from “bad,” doing work for them, and challenging anyone or anything that might get in the path of perfection. For as much good as we think we’re doing for our children, though, I have to wonder how much bad we might be doing as well. What’s going to happen when our children grow up and move out on their own? Will they be equipped to deal with work situations that don’t always go their way? Will they need their parents to talk to the boss for them? What are we teaching our kids about personal responsibility? What are we teaching them about what it means to be a parent? These are some big questions. A wise person — actually, it was a wise fish named Dory in the movie Finding Nemo — gave this advice to a parent about his child: “You can’t never let anything happen to him. Then nothing would ever happen to him.” That’s good advice, even if it did come from a fish. As we head into the new year — as crazy as this may sound — I’m resolving to make my kids’ world a little less perfect and to demand less perfection from both me and them. I want to see what the boys can really do. I think we’ll all be better for it.