It's All About Balance...I Think

I've always wondered, to myself, if I've pushed my daughters too hard, or not hard enough.

When I was a kid, I recall my mother and my father frequently reminding me to always do the best I could do, at whatever it was I was doing. I still try to adhere to that mantra. I also remember that they were not overly pushy until they knew my capabilities. In other words, if I received a grade on a report card that they might not have been pleased with, they might not get too upset with me. Unless I had demonstrated previously that I could do better than that grade indicated I'd done. Then the conversation took on a completely different tone. Any of you with Italian heritage know the power of the Italian Mother's Guilt Trip. Or the strength of a stubborn German's leather belt.

It was the same way with my athletic career. I started playing Little League baseball when I was seven years old. I can't remember when I started to play Pop Warner football, but it was probably a couple years later. I remember the night I came home from my first football practice. It was the most physically demanding two hours I'd ever had in my life. I was completely unprepared for it, as were my parents. I got out of my Dad's Chevy Impala, collapsed on the grass of our front yard, and proclaimed that I was probably going to quit. It was too hard. The coaches seemed kind of mean.

My Dad didn't protest too much about my designs on quitting, even though I've always thought of my Dad as a tough guy. But what he did talk to me about, and what my Mom reinforced over a cold drink and a snack, was that quitting was not something that I should be too comfortable with, and quitting wasn't a good trait to have on one's resume. They persuaded me to give it a try, to do my best, and to see how things went after a week or so. I'm glad they talked me out of quitting because football eventually provided some of the most memorable points in my life, as well as helping to pay for a nice chunk of my college education.

So I heard about this recent article in The Wall Street Journal by Amy Chua, where she elaborates about why Chinese mothers (called "Tiger Moms" in her article) are the most superior mothers on the planet. Really?! Chua admits to calling her daughters 'trash' when they do not perform up to her expectations, and also she admits to denying them dinner if they do not perfect a piece of music, forcing them to practice on their instruments sometimes for three hours at a time. In my mind, that's complete bonkers, not superior parenting.

Or if you happen to take in an episode of Toddlers and Tiaras on The Learning Channel, you'll find wacky mothers preparing their young daughters for child beauty pageants by having their daughter's eyebrows waxed. Five year old daughters.

We've all encountered the crazy 'soccer mom,' albeit in a variety of sports, and maybe some of us are the crazy sports parent.

My wife and I have almost always tried to allow our daughters the opportunity to try almost anything that they were interested in, aside from the stupid trampoline in the yard which I've never allowed. Piano lessons, karate, soccer, choir, softball, basketball, Girl Scouts. Fortunately I was able to avoid being the Den Mother for my girl's scout troop, although you most likely had to have hair and some other essentials for that position. I also never qualified for the Girl Scout Cookie coordinator because I was told if you ate more than you sold, that wasn't a good example for the girls.

As my daughters got older, we've spent a lot of time in gymnasiums all over the mid Atlantic states for basketball tournaments of all kinds, and I've coached for 13 years. I've never had visions of grandeur for my daughters, but I wanted to keep them out of the shopping malls, and I wanted them to learn about all those things you don't learn in a classroom from a textbook: hard work, discipline, working as a team for a larger goal, how to overcome adversity, how to accept it when you don't win the game, and all those other things kids have learned for centuries from playing team sports. Sometimes the lessons you learn are negative lessons, and my two oldest have, unfortunately, had their share of those in their high school careers. But that's another discussion.

So I don't know if I've answered my original question. I think it's more difficult to be pushy with daughters than with sons. I think that's partially a biological thing and partially a societal thing, although I'm sure there are scientists in both of those areas who would say I don't know a thing about either. I also think there are lots of parents, male and female, who push their kids too hard in all endeavors. I've always tried to err on the side of not being too pushy, but I often wonder if my daughters would've excelled more in certain pursuits if I would've pushed them harder.

I guess I remember something else my Dad always said. If you want something bad enough, you'll work hard enough to get it.

P.S. Don't forget to tell you daughter that you love her.