Rescue is on the way to the Southern Indian Ocean in the midst of a mid-Winter storm to pick up 16 year old Abby Sutherland from her disabled 40ft sailboat. Of course we are are glad she is safe and out of harms way. With that said, no matter how well prepared Abby was (or any other kid who is attempting a life or death feat) you might think that Mom and Dad would take all the dangers into consideration before approving such a trip. In this situation, you have to call into question the timing of sending Abby across the Southern Indian Ocean during the winter.
There is an obvious trend of kids attempting world records—and most have been successful. But with all the success, there are the failures that put parenting styles in stark contrast. As as Dad and outdoor enthusiast, I can understand the allure of preparing your child for such feats. But when does it cross the line and become fuel for the parents massive egos? I know I’m passing judgment without having met any of these parents, but I still come to the conclusion that without egotistic parents, these kids would not be trying to break adventure records.
Here are the most recent examples of kids (and thus parents) pushing the extremes:
Early May, 16 year-old Australian Jessica Watson became the youngest person to sail around the globe solo, nonstop and unassisted. Thousands lined Sydney Harbor to cheer as she cruised past the finish line in her pink yacht.
A Dutch court late last year blocked an even younger sailor, 14-year-old sailor Laura Dekker, from pursuing a similar round the world voyage ordering her to prepare more and wait at least until this year before starting.
In January, 17-year-old Johnny Collinson of Utah became the youngest person to climb the highest peaks on all seven continents but the record is being threatened already by Jordan Romero.
Jordan Romero, 13 year old that Summited Everest and become the youngest person ever to summit the peak. He also summited Kilimanjaro when he was 9 years old and is now preparing for a trip to summit Vinson Massif in Antarctica to complete his quest of summiting the seven continents highest peaks.
While I think these are impressive feats and nothing short of amazing, I would rather these kids be back at home eating apple pie, doing homework, and riding their bikes around the neighborhood. They have the rest of their lives for non-parental-influenced adventures and should relax and just be kids looking forward to the nice weekend hike with Mom and Dad.
What are your thoughts on the extreme parenting styles demonstrated by these über-adventuresome kids?
Rob Curtis is a dad, outdoor adventurer, bike commuter, telemark skier, golfer, and a wool maven.
You have to love an architecture firm with a sense of whimsy and fond memories of their childhood. Why? Because they go and write up a piece like this about the architecture of the living room “fort.” It’s a nicely written ode to the fort and the influences modern architectural masters can have on its design.
I don’t believe it’s truly a “fort” unless you include a few chairs for structural support and at least one quilt/comforter for the roofline (and protection from the elements). But I respect any kid/dad who builds one, no matter the elements.
Apropos of nothing much, during my single days, I actually devised a unique way to ‘pick up’ a woman at a bar by saying, “Want to go back to my place and build a fort?” It worked. Maybe too well. I only used it once because the woman was smitten and I wanted out the next day. So use that line at your own risk.
When’s the last time you built a fort? Was it for your kid or to “impress” a ladyfriend?
One of the commenters on my recent post (Degrees of Debt: Paying for College) recommended the book Real Education by Charles Murray. I just finished reading this well-argued indictment of American education. Among other things, Murray decries the cost of college, but barely touches on the question raised in my original post (”Who should pay for it?”). He does say, “…for students whose parents are paying the bills, college life throughout much of the American system is not designed to midwife maturity but to prolong adolescence.” But instead of offering advice on navigating the current system, he proposes to revamp all of K-12 and college education.
In his opinion, our country suffers from a delusion that he calls “educational romanticism.” For example, 90% of high school students polled expect to complete college. They are encouraged in that belief by their guidance counselors, No Child Left Behind, and society at large. Statistically, only about 35% of them will graduate from college. We ignore that fact and unfairly stigmatize students who don’t strive for a B.A, however unrealistic that aspiration.
Murray argues for early abilities testing for each student, followed by a universal core knowledge curriculum in schools, while guiding students toward realistic educational goals based on their individual abilities. He champions the school choice movement as an existing avenue toward this result.
“It is not good enough to just wish children well. It is our obligation as adults to oversee their journey. Sometimes that means encouraging, reinforcing and praising – things that make us feel good…When a [gifted] child’s potential is unlimited, making good on our obligation sometimes means pushing, criticizing and demanding – things that make us feel like the bad guy. When a child’s aspirations really are unrealistic, making good on our obligation means guiding the child toward other goals – something else that makes us feel like the bad guy.”
In summary, “The goal of education is to bring children into adulthood having discovered things they enjoy doing and doing them at the outermost limits of their potential.” This definition of education isn’t newsworthy, but the reforms he suggests certainly are.
As a father, I’ve instinctively pursued this utilitarian line with my very talented elder child, and I’ve certainly felt like (and been called!) “the bad guy” for pushing her. She’ll enroll in college this fall, but she certainly isn’t operating at the ‘outermost limit of her potential.’ Murray would blame me for this performance gap, and I plead guilty to moments when I consciously decided that, in the words of Homer Simpson: “My marriage is more important than [her] future.” Leaving aside intra-parental disagreements, I evolved away from Murray’s paternalistic view as my daughter grew older. At some point, a young adult needs to learn how to push herself, and that’s a subject she can’t study while someone’s hand is on her back.
My young son is another story. He’ll probably be among the statistical majority of students who don’t belong in college, known in educational policy circles as “the Forgotten Half.” My wife and I intend to pursue an affirmative course of study that maximizes the intellectual gifts he does possess, while preparing him for an appropriate career path toward fulfillment and success on his own terms. Hopefully, his own kids will benefit from the ideas in this book, through the implementation of real education for the next generation.
My wife’s official due date is in five days. The imminent arrival of our first child reminds me of that cheesy Michael Bay explosion-fest “Armageddon.” The way I see it, my wife and I are Earth. At peace, with everyone quietly going about their business. And the baby? That’s the asteroid hurtling towards us at 47,000mph.
Even so, it’s not arriving fast enough, because we’re anxious to put this pregnancy behind us. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve been blessed with a relatively difficulty/pain-free 9+ months. But the mini-heatwave that hit NYC this past week really took its toll. My wife’s ready, but the baby isn’t quite.
It’s amazing that it takes the better part of a year to bake these human babies. And we were recently told the baby might go well past our due date, which my wife simply isn’t hearing.
Everyone’s telling us to appreciate the silence and the sleep that we’re getting now. Telling us that the kid needs a few more days/weeks to fully develop. But for us, it’s just like the lead-up to Christmas: we can see there’s a huge gift waiting for us, but we just can’t open it.
I guess it’s quite different from the plot of “Armageddon.” Because we actually can’t wait for the asteroid to crash into our world.
How’d you handle the remaining days before delivery? Did your kid come early or late?
Matthew Winkler and his son, Logan, just finished traveling (and skateboarding in) all 50 states to create a unique 6th grade of school. Read earlier installments here.
We got home to New Hampshire last week. Since then, Logan has been acting like a returned astronaut, relishing the comforts of a remembered life. The sunny days have kept him outside, riding bikes around the neighborhood and to meet friends at the town beach, playing flashlight tag each night. Indoors, he spends every waking minute building Legos or rereading his old comic books, sitting on the couch beside a cat. These activities sound awfully pedestrian, but after nine months zooming around the country in a capsule, they are a dream come true.
We visited two schools to tell our story, spoke to four newspapers, and even got interviewed at the local NPR station. Logan is comfortable and articulate, answering questions with a matter-of-fact attitude. One middle school principal praised our exploration of learning opportunities outside of the classroom and educational rewards that he can’t offer. I accepted the praise, but reminded him of the science lab, music department, and peer group interactions that he can offer, but were missing on our trip. Indeed, these factors have drawn Logan back into a public school trajectory for next year.
We are relocating to New York State this summer, so on our way home from Washington, D.C., Logan and I stopped to visit two schools near our new hometown. The Kildonan School is an expensive, private school that serves kids with language-based learning disabilities. Stissing Mountain Middle School is a public school in a rural school district with a diverse student body. The private school offers a robust and proven remedial program that would certainly improve Logan’s reading and writing, but there are only ten kids in each grade. The public school has 80 seventh graders. Even if we could afford the private option, the social piece weighs heavily on the scales of decision. Logan’s self-esteem is at an all-time high, but it has been a solitary year. He needs to apply these gains in an interpersonal environment to finalize his metamorphosis. In the “big school” is where he’ll learn the most next year; and we can always hire an after-school tutor.
The national road trip is over, but we are still exploring undiscovered territory. Every year will offer new destinations, new roadblocks, new milestones on this lifelong journey. In fact, Logan has an idea: his mom should take travel nursing assignments in each state, so we can all be together during our second orbit of the country. I explain that back-to-back thirteen week contracts would mean that such a tour would take twelve and a half years. “So?” he replies. If you throw open the scheduling, we are all 50skatekids.
Does anyone else find this recent “jeans diaper” ad by Huggies disturbing?
I can’t be the only one who thinks the dude with the balloons is a pederast. Does this ad not ’sexualize’ the toddler, or am I just overreacting?
This is all part of the recent and very alarming trend to make jeans out of everything. Witness the introduction of “Jeggings” (jeans + leggings). Yes, spandex leggings with denim, stitching and “pockets” painted on.
Still, that’s nowhere near as disturbing as this ad. Some people I showed it to found it “cute.” Really? Diapers are rarely exposed for good reason—blowouts in particular. And fashion-wise, feces leaking down one’s leg is so last year.
What do you think of Madison Ave’s latest foray into diaper-tising?
And no, he doesn’t fetishize clean/new diapers. But dirty/full ones. So be on the lookout for this dude pawing through your garbage in search of your diaper genie bags.
6 feet 1 inch of crazy was caught “brown handed” in Wisconsin the other day. But how did the authorities know he was a diaper fetishist? Maybe because of the six soiled diapers in his pockets.
He was caught breaking into someone’s home because there weren’t any diapers to be found in the trash. So take those diapers out often.
Take a look at a slightly-amusing slideshow of stuff kids have destroyed at Huffington Post. Some will see it as “instant birth control.” But parents will see it as, well, something they see every day.
Some of these pics are disturbing. Consider the one that features a decapitated Barbie who has also suffered a double mastectomy (and double leg-ectomy for that matter). Wonder what that kid’ll grow up to be.
The author of the site has been featured in the New York Times. So far, she’s gotten upwards of two millions hits. While it’s not as funny (to me) as “Shit My Dad Says,” here’s “Shit My Kids Ruined.” And just like the former, look for a TV show adaptation coming soon.
Is it wrong to be giving out gift ideas for ourselves? Gear expert and regular contributor Rob Curtis starts off with the first of what we hope are many Father’s Day gift-related posts…
The Trek Light Double Hammock
For dad’s everywhere summer is a time for rest and relaxation—at least, that’s our fervent hope. If you’re anything like me you enjoy having places to go to reflect, think about your future, or just close your eyes for a few minutes.
What better than a strategically placed hammock where you can hear the birds chirp, the waves crash, or the wind rustle the leaves? Every Dad should have a hammock at the ready in the trunk or the backpack for that perfect bit of tranquility.
My portable hammock of choice is the Trek Light Double made of a super lightweight, quick dry, anti-mildew parachute material. A few years ago, my wife and I actually met the founder of this company (Seth Haber) selling these at the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder, CO—and afterwards, I kept kicking myself for not picking one up. Well wouldn’t you know that my wonderful wife, Leigh, had one for me to unwrap on my birthday a few months later? (Maybe my habit of constantly pointing out the perfect hammock spots just made her want to shut me up.)
There are many hammocks out there, but the ones from Trek Light are so easy to set up, and more important, pack-down. It’s a welcome addition to any weekend, whether you’re alone on the trail or in the backyard with the family.
Of our recent purchases, one of the most expensive was a breast pump. The Medela Pump In Style Advanced to be specific.
I think it takes a metric ton of chutzpah to incorporate the words “In Style” into your breast pump name. Who on this green earth thinks there’s anything remotely resembling style involved with breast pumping? It has to be one of the most humbling/embarrassing (albeit very useful) things a woman can do to herself.
Could some women be swayed into thinking that attaching to motor-powered funnel suckers to her breasts could be less humiliating because they’d be doing it “in style”? Maybe for people who work at places like Vogue magazine.
We purchased this one because it was the best rated—because certainly the name doesn’t do it any favors.
Has your wife/partner ever used a breast pump for nipple stimulation in order to prepare for childbirth? Oh yeah, it happens…in style.
breasts could be less humiliating because they’d be doing it “in style”? Maybe for people who work at places like Vogue magazine.
