Okay, so last night DH and I watched the HBO show “Entourage” which (usually) we really enjoy for its sophisticated humor. It’s like a male version of “Sex and the City,” because it provides a little insight into the male mind via male friendships and does it in a humorous, entertaining way. Lately, I’m sorry to say, it’s been downright annoying. But the inconsistency of Entourage is not what today’s post is about. It’s about pushy, over the top parents.
So here’s how one part of last night’s episode of Entourage is relevant to this blog. Ari Gold, one of my favorite characters on Entourage, is a high energy, aggressive, cocky, sarcastic, insecure but somehow still charming talent agent. He is also a father. He and his wife get word that their son will most likely not be admitted to the private school their daughter has been attending for many years. The couple go ballistic, anxiously trying to figure out why he would be rejected and Ari attempts to prevent the seemingly imminent diss. After he unsuccessfully confronts some of the administrative types (including a board member/pal) he goes right to the headmaster of the school, lobbies for his son’s acceptance, reminds him of the tens of thousands of dollars the family has donated to the school as well as the many hours his wife has volunteered and then he even throws in a bribe of $20K. Out of sheer frustration, the headmaster admits that his rejection has nothing to do with the boy, rather, it’s all about Ari. The school community has had to put up with Ari’s brash, obnoxious attitude for so many years that it can’t stand the thought of another decade with him, walking around the halls yakking on his cell phone, screaming at sports events and generally annoying everyone. Ari, stunned and furious, immediately removes his daughter from her classroom and storms out of the school.
As I’ve said in earlier posts, kids are wonderful. They’re amazing, wonderful little people who soak up information the way sponges drink in water. Parents, however, can be annoying, pushy, domineering, obnoxious and unreasonable. More often than not, it’s the ones like Ari who are completely clueless about their impact on the world around them.
I’m beginning to realize that I’m not the only person who dislikes pushy parents.
Argh!
I can’t stand it when my kids envy each other. I really don’t get it. To me, it’s like fingernails being pulled down a chalkboard. Yeeouch!
Here’s the deal. My kids go to different schools. At first, we had innocent and interesting comparisons:
“Your school has ‘Wordly Wise’? Our school doesn’t have that.”
“Your school has a handwriting competition? Mine doesn’t.”
“Your school has a chess garden? Ours doesn’t.”
“My school has a way better Fun Fair than yours.”
And so on.
Over time, that friendly competition has intensified to the point where one day I said, “Okay, that’s it! I’ve had enough. From this day forward there will be no more comparisons between your schools. Each has its own strengths and weaknesses. Just leave it at that and find something else (anything else!) to discuss.”
That worked pretty well for several months.
Then today, as we’re eating dinner, I asked the question I ask daily, “Tell me three good things that happened in your day today.” My daughter proudly announced, “Well, all the SCA kids had a pizza party with sodas and Fritos and Doritos. It was really fun!” My son angrily replied, “YOUR SCA had a PIZZA PARTY?” Our SCA didn’t have a pizza party!” DD came back with, “Oh really? What did yours have?” Then DS grumbled, “Nothing.”
Grrr….
Prepare for the lecture, kids.
Off I went, “Let me tell you something about my philosophy of life. There are two paths we can choose in life and it always comes down to a choice — our own individual choice.”
“There are folks who believe in a concept called scarcity. Can anyone tell me what you think that might be?” DD straightened up in her chair and replied, “Oh yes. It’s probably when there’s not enough of something.”
“Right. Well, folks who believe in the scarcity principle think that there’s only so much of anything in the world, so if Mr. X gets a new car, Mr. Y is less likely to get one. Or Johnny gets all As, so Sally thinks that her getting that one B is somehow due to Johnny’s As. That kind of attitude prevents people from feeling sincerely happy for other people’s good fortune.”
“It’s the same kind of negativity that leads people down a sort of ‘Dark Side’ path like Anakin in “Star Wars” where he’s filled with anger, bitterness, regret, revenge, and hatred.”
“Now, on the other hand, some people believe in abundance. Who can tell me what they think that is?” I asked.
DD said, “When there’s enough.”
“Right. When people believe that what one person gets really has no bearing on what other people get. I mean, they can get it, too. Maybe not right then, maybe not the same way or at the same time, but eventually they could certainly have the same kind of goodness come into their lives. Or maybe they could see goodness in their lives in a completely different way, but it’s there, if they just look for it and choose to focus on it.”
“That path, as you might expect, is also the path of joy, kindness, compassion, love, happiness, and faith.”
“Which path you choose to travel down is up to you. Your choices determine your path. So, for example, tonight when your sister told you about her pizza party, what’s another way you could have chosen to respond to her?”
DS sheepishly responded, “Uh, good for you?”
“Well, something like that. Sure you might feel disappointed that you guys didn’t get a pizza party, but remember all those things you’ve mentioned about your school that you’re so glad your school has? Well, you could notice that pang of disappointment but then go to a place where you’re sincerely happy that she had fun at her pizza party. And if you need to draw on those great things your school has, remind yourself of them and let the pizza party slide off your back. Focus on her words, her experience, her happiness, and try to share in it with her. It will actually make you feel good. It’s your choice.”
I looked at my son and said, “Think about how you felt when you went right to that angry, envious place. You looked pretty mad. I’m sure you felt pretty angry, didn’t you? I doubt that felt good. Now you’re looking like you’re regretful and a little confused. My point is that, if you come across this kind of experience again in your life (and I guarantee you will), I hope you make a better choice. See this as an opportunity to learn, a touchstone to look back on to help you remember to make a different choice next time.”
Whew.
You know, I think it’s easy to be a parent. You have a baby, you’re a parent.
But it’s hard, incredibly hard, to be a GOOD parent.
