Our Confuse and Heckle Parenting Approach - the forefront of parenting innovation

Three kids and eleven years into this child-rearing hell, we finally came to the conclusion that logic doesn’t work with children. We’re slow learners. It took us a while to shed our book-parenting philosophies. We tried sticker charts and incentive programs. We implemented natural consequences and practice proportional discipline. Our kids still annoy the shit out of us.

About half-way through our 7-hour car drive to my parents’ house, clinging to the end of our sanity, our new parenting philosophy was born. When the kids complain too much, screw trying to logic with them and forget the child psychology crap – confuse and heckle them instead.

When 8 asked what time it was, my husband laughed and responded, “10 minutes before the next time you ask.” Then to confuse our son further, he added, “How many seconds are in a day?”

8 sat quietly, then finally responded, “24 times 60 times 60.”

Meanwhile, the eleven-year old fired up her phone to Google it. I know which kid is going places and which is going to end up on twitter.

The method is simple. Every time your child asks an inane question or complains, give them useless advice or ask a question that has no relevance to their original statement and entertain yourself instead.

Three days into this endeavor, it seems to be working. Last night, the kids were fighting over Lego's. When 8 came to the kitchen to tattle, we attacked.

“Aren’t you a conflict resolution manager at school?” I asked. “Use your training.”

“Synergize,” my husband chimed in.

“Get back down there and find a win-win,” I choked, crying because I was laughing so hard.

8 left the kitchen disappointed and trudged back down to be assaulted by his sisters, which made us laugh even harder.

My parents looked at us in awe. My dad explained that the only conflict resolution they needed was a paddle. He doesn’t understand that the kids’ bathroom walls everywhere from school to the library are papered with “Do your parents hit you at home? Call this number” fliers. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t support child abuse – but there are more than a few kids I know who could use a good smack. Most of them are probably entitled enough to pull out the iPhone their parents pay for and use it to report them.

We had to explain that the kids know what we’re talking about. Their school adopted Stephen Covey’s The Leader in Me and trains them in this bullshit. At ages 8 and 11, they’ve spent years attending morning meetings. They have personal mission statements. They’re fully prepared for careers as frustrated middle managers.

11's summary of the program: “If everyone is a leader, then no one is. They don’t want us to think. They want us to be sheep. Baaaa.” Her criticism of The Leader In Me makes me more proud than her Presidential Academic Excellence Award, although it does worry me that she'll see through our confuse and heckle parenting approach.

Regardless, instead of being parenting sheep, we’re going to be on the forefront of parenting innovation. If our confusion method works well, maybe I’ll survive my remaining years without AA. If not, it’ll give our kids plenty to rebel against later. Either way, they’ll want to get out of our house, and that, folks, is a win-win.