Parenting on a shoestring

Isn't it about time to have a time-out on consumerism?

Teenagers, with their newly developed capacity for logical thought, have a finely-tuned sense of justice and sharp observational skills when it comes to human behaviour. Parents of teenagers know that the preceding sentence was simply a polite way (hey, I'm Canadian) of saying that they can be judgmental as... heck. Who among us hasn't had an "it takes one to know one" response when trying to correct an adolescent son or daughter of a fault with which we ourselves contend? But this is useful, because it helps keep parents on track as we try to be people of character ourselves.

Another great side effect of this teenage sense of black and white is the ability to cut through the bull patties right to the heart of the matter. I recognize my job as a parent is to help them develop the habit of tempering justice with compassion and understanding. However, I do appreciate the clear and quick insights they express from time to time.

Here's an example. My husband Stephen and I were preparing to moderate a case study for a parenting group. The case study itself was primarily concerned with the reaction of a 14-year-old boy to his family's sudden financial difficulties. We were anticipating an evening of group pussy-footing around the points in that polite, adult Canadian way-- of playing "grandmother's steps," the way Evelyn Waugh portrayed Lady Marchmain's broaching her son's alcoholism to his friend Charles in Brideshead Revisted (the book, of course, not that awful movie). I passed a copy of the case over to our own 14 year-old son to read, curious about his take. He passed it back with his own three-word summary: "Kid's spoiled rotten." This was a little harsh, especially considering he most certainly would not have turned his nose up at any of the expensive items mentioned in those pages. Yet there was some truth in his analysis. Stephen and I decided it was important to make sure that the ordered use of money and material goods in family life was a theme in the discussion we led that evening.

On the subject of material goods, just last night I saw one of the most ridiculous items for sale that I have ever seen. It was a portable time-out mat, for moms and dads on the go. No corner to which you can send your errant pre-schooler at the park? Just pull the time-out mat from its handy carrying case, and you're good. Why just take the misbehaving child home for free, when you can spend 15 or so dollars to make her sit on a brightly coloured piece of vinyl beside the swing set until you count to ten? When I told my 20-year-old son about this product (okay, he's not a teenager but he still counts as an adolescent according to some experts) he laughed and said "Like a game. That's ridiculous." "Ridiculous," again, was the pronouncement of my 17-year-old daughter.

A little googling shows that people do buy these mats, and use them too. Various parenting magazines and websites, as well as at least one perky network TV morning show, actually recommend them. There seem to be several brands available for purchase. One of them has a big yellow frowning face where the little one is supposed to sit. When the time-out is over, he can flip the mat over to see a smiley face that says "I love you." Goodness, does that mean Mommy doesn't love you while you're sitting on the frowning face? I thought time-outs were all about loving discipline -- how is that principle served by making a child sit on a big frowning face while out in public? Again, you can save your money while effectively communicating both disapproval for poor behaviour and affection for your child by simply saying, "Come sit beside Daddy quietly until you are ready to play nicely."

The mat I saw for sale was round and looked like a target, so it's probably not a good idea to use it in an open field. I tried to picture any of the ten pre-schoolers I've parented sitting on it. Imagine a kid drawing her knees up to her chest and using the smooth vinyl to spin around on her bottom until she was dizzy and giggling. Just think, if you had about a dozen naughty 3-year-olds in the park and each was stuck on his or her own round time-out mat, you could get a nice impromptu game of Twister going. And that might be the best use of those mats after all, since any parent knows that distraction can be an effective strategy at the beginning of a temper tantrum.

Then again, distraction doesn't always work. And it's more cost-effective to simply point and say, "Look at that pretty bird!"

Like so many things in life, less is more when correcting children. Consequences that are too elaborate can often backfire. The most effective discipline comes from the example of parents, in all areas of life including our use of goods and money. Creating the need to make a purchase to discipline our children is thus doubly self-defeating. And yet it probably makes sense in the context of a society that encourages purchase after purchase to pacify our kids and pamper ourselves. We have to avoid imprudent expenditures, or so the pundits tell us in the wake of the latest Wall Street crash ( I wonder how many time-out mats have been bought on credit). And if hard times really are about to come upon us, then parents would do well to remember, as educator and author James Stenson has written, "Character is what you have left over when and if you go broke. It is you minus your material possessions." How about a little more parenting-on-a-shoestring?

Michelle Martin writes from Hamilton, Ontario.