Parenting seems to be a constant struggle for many people out there in today’s overly soft and sensitive world.  Parents are constantly on their guard.  Concerned that they are being too harsh with their children, implementing parenting strategies that contradict what the so called experts believe to be sound parenting, or doing something that their spouse finds unacceptable.

Where do you go for sound parenting advice?  Do people actually seek advice from other people about parenting?  I feel like parenting is just something you should wing, if a particular strategy doesn’t work, just scrap it and try something else.  Occasionally I listen to the Freakonomics podcast.  They cover a wide variety of topics, but somehow they managed to address parenting in one of their episodes.  One of the contributors to the podcast, Stephen Dubner, who is an economist who is a professor of the University of Chicago, gave his take on parenting.

He indicated, or at least this is what I took away from it, that you can let your kids do pretty much what they please, including watching as much tv as they want, playing endless amounts of video games, while eating twinkies and pop tarts, and it won’t have any baring on what their adult life.  This would probably be welcome news to my parents and make them feel much less guilt about how my brother Jesse turned out.  Mom, dad it wasn’t your fault, it was bound to happen.

While part of me wants to agree with his thesis, because it makes parenting a whole lot easier when you give in all the time, I am fully aware that this technique would create human beings that I would be unable to tolerate for long periods of time.  So, I have decided to try and implement a hybrid of this parenting technique.  Give in when it becomes intolerable and you have lost the will to live but make sure you torment your children significantly after giving in so that they get some pay back for being such little a-holes.

The key with this strategy is taking everything from your childhood that was truly awful and determining which awful things could have value when introduced into your children’s lives.  There’s two things that need to be considered when implementing this strategy. First of all, can I get away with this without having my children taken away from me and or facing criminal charges?  Secondly, what affect does it have on my happiness.  (if bringing terrible shit from your child hood makes you as a parent suffer in some way, shape, or form, it’s probably not worth it)

As an example, my dad was relentless when it came to making fun of me for things I had absolutely no control over, and were primarily his fault for passing on poor genetic material to me.  One of his favorite targets was my acne.  He would refer to me as pizza face and tell my brothers not to squeeze my head because it may explode.  I tell people about this and they don’t believe me, and then when they realize that you can say pretty much anything to me and it won’t hurt my feelings, they believe me.  He also called me bean pole because I was quite skinny.   He didn’t save it for just me though, he was talking to me about one of my friends and he said “that so and so is really quite a pussy.”  He was, but still he probably shouldn’t be saying that to me.

In his defense, he did somewhat redeem himself by getting me a groupon for counseling services this year.  Just kidding, he managed to use his awesome benefits from his job at GM to get me on Acutane when I was in seventh grade.  I’m sure it was somewhat bitter sweet for him though, now he could only mock me about being skinny.  However, I did dodge a bullet by getting rid of the zits, if not for the acutane I would have been a triple threat as I entered the high school years, acne, braces, and a mullet, I would have had the chicks eating out of the palm of my hand.

So, in consideration for my three year old Ted turning into a complete monster who thinks he should have candy as an appetizer before dinner, get to pick out the tv show he wants to watch every single morning over his brother’s objection, and trying to wipe his own butt (ok that one is on me, I should have been paying closer attention, but he damn near clogged the toilet with all the tp he was using, and he somehow managed to smear poop all over his butt cheeks) I have started calling him Turd Ferguson.  I said it once jokingly, and it really struck a nerve with him.  So, since it bothered him so much I decided to randomly start referring to him as Turd Ferguson.  “I”M NOT TURD FERGUSON!  That’s not nice daddy!”  Since three year olds have no long term memory he can’t hold this against me like I do with my dad.  (For those of you who don’t get the Turd Ferguson reference Google it, it should make you laugh)  Yesterday I went to Meijer and ordered his Frozen themed cake with Elsa on it and the bakery attendant asked me what I wanted it to say, I wanted to put Happy Birthday Turd Ferguson but went the much safer route with “We Don’t Love You Anymore, Maybe When You’re 4 we Will Again, Happy Birthday Anyway!”

While my dad directly attacked my self esteem when I was growing up, my mom indirectly did so by the way that she dressed me.  The clothes that she picked out for me when I was in middle school were the opposite of in style and primarily purchased based upon price and utility.  This caused me to get a paper route in sixth grade and start working in the muck in seventh grade, ok partially caused it, my parents told me to get a job or they were going to put me to work around the house.  Wait a minute, I can work around the house for free and have the worst boss ever (my parents) or I can go work somewhere else and get paid?  Being able to purchase my own clothes was not enough to overcome my acne, braces, and terrible hair, but it helped.

It may be a bit too early to try and get my kids to start working around the house, especially since neither one of them can effectively wipe their own butt yet, but I have to figure out someway to decondition all of the pansy like traits their mother has beset in them.  I have always thought that the way to toughen a kid up is to make them work on a muck farm.  It’s truly awful work and you meet some of the worst people, at least that’s what I thought, they were just public school kids, but I had very little exposure to a anyone who didn’t whole heartedly believe Jesus Christ was their lord and savior.  So, it builds character, and part of me thinks, like being made fun of by my dad, they should have to endure the same awful things I endured.

Unfortunately, from what I have heard about muck farming, they no longer employ middle school aged children to work for them and instead hire migrant workers.  I’m pretty sure there is no other job out there that is as character building (awful) as toiling on a muck farm.  Playing Super Mario Bros 9, getting an Elsa birthday cake, and watching any cartoon you want on DVR may be impossible to counteract, but I am sure I can figure out a way to do my best, it just can have an impact on the overall enjoyability of my life.