R E C E N T L Y

The face of Zorro
By Luis Valdez
For 80 years, Zorro has been the shining star of a mythical California, set in a time and place that never existed. In "The Mask of Zorro," he still is
(07/22/98)

Zorro vs. Tarzana
By Stephen Talbot
How the masked avenger taught a white kid from the suburbs that California's past -- and its present -- was older, darker and more soulful than he had ever dreamed
(07/22/98)

Drama Queens
Bad trips: The road to hell is paved with good intentions, pickle-flecked vomit and the MLA convention
(07/21/98)

Censorship and sensibility
By Inda Schaenen
Should kids be able to read anything they want?
(07/17/98)

Slice of life
By Maurine Shores
Memories of a cake that tasted like summer
(07/16/98)

BROWSE THE SALLIE TISDALE ARCHIVES

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Mamafesto
By Camille Peri
Why it's time
for Mothers Who Think

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NOTHING HURTS KIDS MORE THAN ABSENT PARENTS, BUT A CHAOTIC, OVERBOOKED SCHEDULE COMES CLOSE. THE DEMISE OF DISCIPLINE: THIRD OF THREE PARTS.

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The demise of discipline: third of three parts
Read Part One: "Spoiled rotten"
Read Part Two: "Keeping each other company"

SECOND THOUGHTS BY SALLIE TISDALE | For most of the years I was rearing children, I had to work; we needed two incomes just to get by. Now, "getting by" is a fluid concept; whatever we consider the minimum necessary for our own and our children's survival, someone else would consider far too little or far too much. When I say "getting by," I mean the kids had new shoes when they needed them and saw the dentist regularly, and most of the bills got paid mostly on time. We had more than enough -- less than a lot of Americans and far more than most people anywhere else. And over the years, there were lots of extras, luxuries big and small, when there was enough to spare.

The greatest luxury for me came not in spite of, but because of our limited income -- I could have made more money at other jobs, I could have worked longer hours at the jobs I took. With the money I didn't make, I bought time and freedom: time to write, time to be home, the freedom to do nothing sometimes. None of my children ever came home from school to an empty house. I didn't allow them to be home alone until they were adolescents, and I was able to make that rule because I was around a lot.

There came a point when I no longer had to work for money to keep the basic bills paid. By then the kids were all in school, and I kept working -- writing -- for myself, while they were away. That's when I really started to bitch, too. That's when illnesses and school vacations and the minor scrapes of growing up ceased being the stuff of daily life and became obstacles in my way. The shift from working-for-us to working-for-me was dramatic; it took me many years to sort out the confusion of guilt and resentment surrounding it.

If I were to start over rearing children, I would do so many things differently -- there are so many things I learned to do or not do only by doing them. There are worries I wouldn't worry, hopes I wouldn't hope, anxieties I would put aside. I would use more Band-Aids, because I now believe that I should have taken the slights and hurts and small bruises of a child's daily life more seriously. I would also assign more chores; I didn't take seriously enough the importance of learning to work and helping others, either.

I would do one thing almost exactly the same, and that is limiting each child to one organized extracurricular activity at a time -- or none at all. Nothing hurts otherwise healthy children as much as their parents being mostly gone, but a chaotic and crammed schedule comes close. You can't simply be with children when Mom's and Dad's and the children's own days are filled with commuting and commitment.

N E X T+P A G E: Bulging calendars, unhappy parents