Slacker mom

I’m reading a book, Confessions of a Slacker Mom. I thought it would be funny. The back of the book told me it would be funny. Now I’m not saying it’s not entertaining, but it’s not funny. It’s true. It tells the story of all those parents who are busy making their little prodigies into star athletes, concert pianists, and Rhodes Scholars. The publisher calls the book “witty and insightful” and I suppose it is. I guess the good news is, the book offers a choice to be another way — to let your kids motivate themselves, do their own work, make their own lives — with a bit of parental guidance. Sound familiar? That’s probably how you grew up. It is certainly how I did.

Two of my boys play baseball in a league. They like it. We let them play. This year, Reed is in the older league. The difference in the competition is shocking. It’s intense. Almost like going to a AAA game. Some parents are hardcore. Not us. If the kids are having fun, we’ll take them. (Of course, once they commit, the teams depend on them and then they have to go…) But it is hard to accept that kind of pressure for an 8 year old. It was just the first game. Maybe they’ll lighten up. Or not.