There can be few things more difficult to accept than being outwitted by your children. It’s not just their incessant questions, which are capable of exposing the depth of my ignorance, but it’s also finding myself running out of logical explanations for my behavior.

In my exhaustion or frustration, I often flippantly make rules or broad proclamations. I imagine all parents are guilty of this. The reason why we can’t play endless imaginary games is often unsatisfactory to our kids, and we are forced to give SOME reason. If that reason doesn’t measure up, we’re going to hear about it.

Yeah, I know I should be proud of the sharp minds banging around my kids’ thick skulls, and I am. But do they have to be THIS sharp so soon? I’m in my 40s. My cognitive decline is a genetic certainty. As my eyesight fails me, my hair gets thinner, and my memory fades faster than my faith in humanity, my children’s powers grow stronger. I’m Odin. I’ve dropped a hammer, and I can’t pick it up. But my 5-year-old son can, and he’s coming out swinging.

I’m learning a lot from these cerebral interactions with my children, ages 3, 5 and 7. I’m definitely learning about kids and how quickly their minds are gaining mutant superpowers, but more importantly, I’m learning a lot about myself, and more broadly, about humanity.

The most illuminating lesson: humans suck at changing their minds.

Never surrender and never truly win

Sometimes, I just don’t want to do something, and sometimes I just don’t want my kids to do something else. I don’t always have a good reason, and my kids, like TV lawyer Saul Goodman, cross-examine me with a rigor I’m incapable of matching. Usually, they are right to question my motives. Sometimes I’m just being lazy. Maybe I’m being stubborn and refusing to change a rule that doesn’t make sense. I’m also guilty of barking out orders just because I’m too tired to do anything else. While there are excusable moments of parental imperative, for the most part, I should just relent and do the unthinkable — change my mind.

We see this in endless debates on social media. People will make ignorant statements of nonsense, and when confronted with irrefutable proof they are wrong, they dig their heels in deep and keep on spewing nonsense. I’m not talking about ideological debates here. Don’t go political on me. I mean something simple like getting a random, easily Googleable sports fact wrong. The proof of their ignorance can be right there in front of them, and they won’t simply say, “Oopsie. I didn’t know that.” No. They fight. They argue. They make excuses, and you know what? I do the same damn thing when my kids have me dead to rights.

I’m such a hypocrite. I’ll keep arguing back. I’ll keep pushing against their logical and youthful wisdom. No part of me wants to admit they are right, that my rule was unfair or silly, and that I should apologize and make it right. Nope. Never. I’ll die on this hill right here: BECAUSE I SAID SO!

To change one’s mind is a gift for all

What am I teaching them at this moment? What sort of human am I raising? I’m modeling the behavior we now see played out all over the news. Politicians with no new ideas, no leadership abilities, just an unshakable resolve to plow ahead. We see this in CEOs with stupid proclamations not rooted in reality. We see this with religious zealots unwilling to accept any other way of life than the one foretold in their chosen sacred book. This spirit of never changing our minds permeates all of humanity. It feels inescapable. This stubborn mind virus is the real pandemic, and I have the cure.

When your kids are right, change your mind! When your kids have outwitted you, or exposed your hypocrisy, admit you’re wrong. Apologize. Change your mind.

Listen, you can come up with a dozen scenarios when you shouldn’t do this. And, of course, there are times when a little razzle-dazzle with the truth is necessary, but that’s not what I’m talking about here. I mean when they have you, when they really have shown you that you’re wrong, don’t let pride hold you back. Don’t just forge ahead as if your logic is unassailable and your authority absolute. Show them grace and love, and show them how to be reasonable human beings. Teach them compromise isn’t a failure.

And if I haven’t convinced you how important this is, do it anyway. Why? BECAUSE I SAID SO!

Change your mind parent photo: © IRStone / Adobe Stock.

At 11:55 p.m. on New Year’s Eve, the champagne was ready. The real stuff sat on one side of the kitchen, opposite the sparkling grape juice reserved for the children. 

As our adult friends gathered, my 16-year-old, Yosef, shyly looked in my direction as his buddies darted for the real champagne while his siblings relegated themselves to the Welch’s Sparkling Grape. 

I nodded at Yosef. He beamed. Tonight, he could join the “cool” kids in bringing in the New Year via the sting of cheap Korbel.

As with so many parenting decisions, I’m still grappling with how I feel about this. 

If you have teenagers and have not faced a similar conundrum, I can assure that it is coming. Even though studies in recent years show alcohol use by adolescents is in decline — even at the lowest rates ever reported for some ages — around half of all of 12th-graders and nearly one in five eighth-graders are likely to report having had alcohol. More worrisome, teens are far more likely to binge drink (four or more drinks at a sitting) than adults.

Encounters with underage drinking

This most recent situation wasn’t the first for us. Several other “should we allow our son to drink while supervised by adults” instances occurred in just the past several months.

The first was an innocent ask by a fellow (at the time over-served) parent/friend during a trip to a beach resort this past summer. She playfully asked, “Do you care if I offer alcohol to our teenagers?”

Hell no!

I immediately became annoyed, dismayed, put-off that another parent even contemplated such a crazy idea. The very suggestion of allowing our teenagers to drink alongside of us was appalling.

But I collected myself. I politely replied, “Do what you want, but Yosef will not be drinking.” 

Everyone else seemed to agree, followed suit, and no teens drank that evening. 

Next, though, came the secondhand knowledge of a few high school parties, hosted by family friends, having included alcohol as part of the night’s refreshments. A feeling of relief showered me realizing that Yosef did not get invited to the parties in question. Many of our friends’ children did attend – some may have drank, some may not have. Either way, I felt like we’d dodged a bullet because, yet again, I would have to play the bad guy in telling Yosef he wouldn’t be part of it.

Social media posts would later confirm that, if he’s invited to parties in the future, I need to worry. For the most part it appears that teenagers treat drinking as a race to messy, unceremonious end, such as alcohol poisoning, drunk driving accidents and higher rates of physical or sexual abuse.

Parents must question themselves

From that backdrop, in the afterglow of the entrance to the New Year, I kissed my wife, hugged my good friends, and sipped of the cheap bubbly alongside my son and a few buddies. Again, I am recognizing my personal progression from shock at the thought of Yosef drinking to being complicit (and present) in him picking up a glass.

How might you handle the same situation? Before you even get to that point, start asking yourself questions like:

• Is teenage drinking a discussion among parents or something I need address with my son/daughter alone?
• Do I take a hardline or can my teenager drink in my presence?  How might I react to a friend offering alcohol to my kid? 
• Should my high schooler attend supervised parties that might include alcohol (whether the hosting parents know or not)? Does my answer change if my kid claims they won’t be drinking?

As with most of the parenting decisions I toil with, I seem to have started with a hard-lined approach then converted to a discretionary one — like refusing all offers of sweets for my kids turning into passing out the candy at every celebration or as a reward for a job well done. Those decisions, though, did not put my kid in possible danger like allowing them to drink might.

My rules on adolescent alcohol use

I don’t think I will ever feel completely good about condoning something that could be potential harmful and expressly illegal. But, instead of beating myself up over the morally compromising, I’ll align my son to my own set of underage drinking principles to Yosef as follows – 

1. I understand you may try to drink alcohol.
2. “Trying” means a sip, not guzzling a handle or shot-gunning a six-pack.
3. Your mom and I must be expressly OK with and present if you try any alcohol. 
4. No other parents should provide you alcohol – even if they are trusted family friends. 
5. If you’ve broken No. 1 through No. 4, call us. We’ll pick you up, no questions asked. Until tomorrow. 

Agreement with these principles will not make me the “cool dad” with his buddies.  These principles don’t mean I am encouraging him to evade the law. I assure you that I will be saying “no” far more than “yes” when underage drinking is entertained socially with others.

These do mean, though, that I get it. I remember being there, caught between a sip of beer and the impending disappointment of my parents. I regret poor decisions I’ve made driven by the need to hide realities from my folks. 

Parenting older kids is tough. Yes, I’m glad I toasted real champagne with my son to ring in the New Year but, damn, I hope that cheap bottle tasted awful to him.   

The smile on Yosef’s face, though, tells me otherwise – and thinking I’m doing this all wrong. 

Editor’s Note: Read more about alcohol abuse and underage drinking at Responsibility.org. Photo: ©yta / Adobe Stock.

“No screens on school nights.”

It’s the newest rule around our house. Before you think I turned into the sinister dad who banned dancing in Footloose, hear me out.

Screen time isn’t evil; it just needs to be used in moderation.

Our family started out allowing two 15-minute sessions of screen time per day. All was well. It became a problem when those 15 minutes turned into 30 minutes, then 45 minutes or longer. Our kids were coming home from school and quickly arguing who was getting what screen. They would also spend far too much time playing Minecraft or watching kids play with toys on YouTube. (Why kids would prefer to watch someone play with a toy rather than actually play with a toy themselves is beyond me).

Our kids weren’t interacting with each other or with me or my wife. They weren’t burning off any extra physical energy that didn’t get out of their system during their 15-minute recess (yes, 15-minute recess.) They were restless at bedtime, whined when we told them to get off their screens and whined again asking when they could get back on their screens.

It wasn’t working out.

Limiting screen time didn’t really help and eliminating screens altogether seemed a little unnecessary. My wife and I devised a new plan: “No Screens on School Nights.”

In the two months since we started this new approach, it’s worked really well for our family. The kids play together more. They are more creative, less whiny and go to bed easier at night — likely because they’ve exhausted themselves with physical play and they haven’t been staring at the blue light of a screen for an hour right before bed. On the weekends, we go back to giving them tokens to use for 15 minutes of screen time at a shot. Since our kids aren’t on screens during the week, we don’t feel bad if we let them stay on their devices a little longer on these days.

This system may not be for everyone. However, if you’re frustrated with your own kids’ relationship with whatever screen they choose, a “No Screens on School Nights” policy may be something to consider for your family too.

A version of this first appeared on Indy’s Child.

Screen time photo: © Africa Studio / Adobe Stock.

Broadly speaking, it’s good we teach kids a few basics of safety. Not every parent is equipped to responsibly handle potentially dangerous situations. So we create very general guidelines that apply to most. That’s cool.

And kids should be learning about things like unwanted touches from others. Though there was a discussion at the preschool drop-off about getting everybody onboard with using the same body part names as used in the school lessons. But we all handle these things a little differently.

However, when the school sent home the “Never-Never Rules” that they’ll be studying soon I cringed a bit. Here they are:

• Never ride on wheels without wearing a helmet.
• Never cross the street without checking all ways for traffic.
• Never play with fire.
• Never touch a dog without asking the person in charge.
• Never use a sharp tool without an older person’s help.
• Never touch guns.
• Never ride in a car without wearing a seat belt.
• Never go in water without an older person watching.

As I cycling advocate, I object to the first item on this list of rules being “wear a helmet.” Really?! You’re going to put something as innocent and mundane as bicycle riding on the same list as “never touch guns?” OK. Fine. As a person hoping to eventually improve our bike culture to the point where we no longer need helmets (a la the Dutch), I get the need to balance the immediate risks with sending a larger advocacy message that biking should be fun and so safe that no helmet is necessary.

I could make the same argument for a number of items on this list though. Parents teaching their kids to use tools responsibly. Outdoor education that involves learning to properly start and put out a campfire. The exceptions are obvious. Yes, there are even some folks out there teaching their young kids to responsibly handle a gun.

For most families, we’d probably rather have the Never-Never Rules drilled into our children’s heads and give them with the freedom to “unlearn” them than allow unsuspecting kids to stumble into injury or death. But I can’t help but look at the Never-Never List and wonder when childhood got so … milquetoast.

Would I let my kids ride in a car without a seat belt? No. I won’t even let my kids cross the street by themselves because we live in an urban area. However, I’m not sure that riding around on the sidewalk in front of our house on a scooter belongs on a list of otherwise potentially deadly actions.

A version of this first appeared on Newfangled Dad. Photo by Whit Honea.