I read this blog entry describing nostalgia for Betty Draper’s 1950s mothering style yesterday and it has been irritating me ever since; more than it should be irritating me, actually.
First, the obvious. The motherlover who wrote this doesn’t have children herself, but is basing her thoughts on how when the author and her mother see misbehaved children when they are out, they stop and remember what a great job the author’s mother did with her. When you don’t have your own children, I think you tend to see your own childhood through rose-colored glasses; your only point of reference for childhood is your own, and that happened a long time ago. I have noticed that the staunchest “my mother was perfect at raising children” people tend to be people who are childless. Perhaps it’s that having children of your own is just one more of what should be a long series of wake-up calls telling you that your parents were only human, too.
The author talks about how parents do not tell their tempter-tantrum-throwing children “no” or “stop” and bemoans that parents no longer bark “go upstairs!” to their children. If ONLY it were that easy, author. If only when you yelled “no” your kid stopped crying. If only your child would runs upstairs and amuse herself when you told her to do so. You, author, would have a non-human…or..hmmm..finctional? like Sally Draper?…child. My father and his six siblings were raised by a Betty Draper disciplinarian. When she left the kitchen they flicked mashed potatoes onto the ceiling. When she told them to go upstairs they went upstairs…and peed in the trash can. They though, spankings? Who cares! Kids are not dumb, and they are not programmable robots. When you raise they stakes, they just raise the stakes right back at you. When you mete out random and harsh discipline, they do whatever the hell they want because they are going to be in trouble regardless.
Also, temper tantrums and the “terrible twos?” They are not modern inventions. They are words used to describe the normal developmental process of a young human being. These “bratty kids” are little people, as much as they sometimes act like animals. Why should you not treat them like people?
The second thing that bothers me is that this is myopic nostalgia. You can’t take Betty Draper in a vacuum. Children were treated differently at school. Cities were different. Distractions were different. These kids lived in an entirely different milieu. Also, dear author, try imagining a childless adult Betty Draper and her mother going out for lunch and spending the hour judging other mothers’ parenting and talking about how Betty’s mom did it better? Are you nostalgic for the time that such a childless Betty Draper would be thought of as an object of pity and a freak for hanging out with her mother instead of having a family of her own?
You know what I’m nostalgic for? When other women respected mothers as parents and conceded that they knew what was best for their own children, and didn’t try to make them feel guilty as parental failures because once their kid cried at the mall.
