My Poor, Poor, Well-Adjusted Kids

Now I’m not here to debate whether growing up as a child believing geese are the ultimate rulers of the sky and heavens is a good thing or not. Also that expired medication are little gifts given to us by these geese gods, that can be exchanged for knowledge and baked goods, that without, one would certainly live a life of shame and horror.

No, I’m here to talk about my kid’s upbringing, not mine. My concern is that my kids might be too well-adjusted. Don’t get me wrong, being well-adjusted is a good thing (I’m assuming) but all truly great artists seem to have had a troubling past and/or upbringing.

For example, Kurt Cobain had a troubled childhood that carried over into his career and he has now a legend. And then there was that ballet girl from the movie “The Swan” that was the lead ballet-er. She was raised by a crazy mom.

Those are really the only examples I have but I think that’s enough science to prove I’m right.

I feel like if my kids are too well-adjusted I’m pretty much throwing any chance they have at becoming great artists down the toilet.

On a scale of very concerned to severely concerned, how concerned should I be about this?

Pat:  Wait! I’m going to admit that my senses might be a little blurred, as I’m a coupla’ beers into the evening and I ate some leftover Quinoa of questionable age, but...I am REALLY struggling to understand your first paragraph. I’ve read it multiple time, backwards, forwards, upside-down and with my eyes closed, and it STILL isn’t sending a lot of sense my way. It makes me worry about you a little bit. Is everything okay?

Still...I think I get what you’re getting at. And, yeah, I worry a bit about my own kids’ respective adjustments. They’re just too damn balanced and stable. I’ve thought about driving them out to the woods, shoving them outta’ the car, and telling them to hoof it back home on their own. Struggle to survive. Face their demons. Builds character, y’know.

They might not appreciate it now, but they’ll thank me later. Right?

Christian: I don’t understand what you don’t understand about my first paragraph. Did you not spend part of your childhood believing that the world was run by magical geese that gave us expired medications that you could use to learn knowledge and then exchange for food?

They’re trying to figure whether or not they are looking into a mirror.

The red eyes means they’re magical.

(source)

Pat:  No. I didn’t.

And we don’t need to go into it here, but I really don’t care for geese.

How, exactly, do they relate to your kids and their respective levels of adjustment?

Christian: They don’t, which makes me wonder why you keep talking about them. Just forget about the expired medication toting magical geese Pat. Let them go.

Moving on.

So you’re suggesting abandoning my kids somewhere in the woods? Are you thinking some place like this:

(source)

Pat: That’s terrifying. For reasons we don’t need to go into right now. Don’t ever EVER take your kids to such a place.

Christian: What? Why? What’s wrong with it?

Pat:  The fertilizer, man! Don’t you know what it takes to keep a lawn green like that. Tons of chemicals, that’s what. Chemicals that will seep into the toddler flesh of your childrens’ unshod feet and into their bloodstream, poisoning them slowly and resulting in an inhumanely long and painful death.

Jesus, man...I just suggested you help them experience nature a little bit, not ABUSE them!  

Oh...I get it. It’s not the geese that terrify me. That’s what you were thinking, right?

Christian: So exposing them to chemically charged manure isn’t going to make them artistically gifted? This parenting thing is hard.

So abandoning them in the woods should do the trick? The woods seem so far away though. Can I just abandon them at a Carls Jr. instead?

Pat:  Maybe. Come to think of it, I think you’re right. You might end up with a result the OPPOSITE of what you were hoping for.

For example, I wanted my children to grow up with a love and appreciation of nature, so I would frequently bundle them up, load them into the car, and drive to a place where we could trod along a trail of some sort, usually two miles or so, and occasionally uphill.

Hiking is great, right? Builds character, right? Feeds the soul, right?

Well, it might, but my kids sure don’t think so. In fact, anytime they hear the words, “Hey kiddos, I have an idea…” come out of my mouth, they make up far-fetched excuses to suddenly do anything BUT hang out with me. In the woods. On a trail.

Carls Jr. might just do it!

I promise to pay for any and all therapy this will require.

Christian: OK good. Carls Jr. it is.

I just want to make sure my kids to grow up to be like Kurt Cobain. Minus the heroin addiction. And suicide. And most importantly, the marriage to Courtney Love.