Parents, we need to stop this madness...

April isn't even half-done, and my May is completely full.  I haven't even entered baseball practices and games, because that schedule hasn't been released, but the amount of stress that I am already feeling about getting my kids everywhere they need to be is causing entirely too much anxiety.

Here's an example of our Tuesdays lately:

School all day.  D goes to baseball practice.  G goes to track practice.  E has chorus, then play practice 3-6.  I have a state-mandated class from 4-7.  D has to run home from baseball, figure out dinner, run back to get E at the Academy, shovel food, and be at scouts with both boys by 6:30.  We are all home after nine.

Wednesdays aren't fun either.  School all day.  D goes to baseball practice.  G goes to track.  C picks up E at the Academy, runs him home, lets out the dog, takes dog and E with her to get G at track.  C drives across town, drops both off at TaeKwonDo, runs back home to figure out dinner. D leaves practice, goes to TKD.  All three come home, we shovel dinner so boys can start homework, then at 7:30 at night, one of us takes E to Burlington for Voice lessons that start at 8:15, returning at 10 pm.

This is insane.

Why are we doing this?  

Because we as a generation of parents have decided to give our children the best day of their lives every single day of their lives.

Because we want our children to be the absolute best in every single thing they do.  Okay isn't good enough.

Because we are afraid that if our children do not make a high school team, get a scholarship to play in college, or to get discovered on American Idol, we have failed as parents.

The result is completely stressed out families, exhausted kids, and bank accounts that are stretched to their limits.

When Ethan showed an real interest in theater, we immediately put him in acting lessons and private voice lessons, in hopes that he would get a lead in a show at the high school, major in theater in college, or be on Broadway.  We immediately jumped to the "next level" instead of just letting him enjoy the experience.  The number of singing leads that thousands of dollars have led to:  two in four years, and none at the high school level.  The competition is just that tough, because everyone else is doing private lessons and classes, too.

Griffin wanted to catch, so we immediately signed him up for private catching lessons. We rushed him around town to get him ready for the season. We bought him gear.  Most likely, he won't catch beyond this year.  He's a lefty.  Lefties don't catch.

Even though I swore I'd never do this as a parent, I've fallen victim to this culture that we all want our children to be the best at everything.  We don't want them to feel disappointed.  We don't want them to learn that they aren't good as everyone else.  So we create these schedules that are ridiculous to maintain, and we continue to live beyond our means so that our children can keep up.

And most of the kids are pretty miserable.

I teach preteens.  I hear what they say.  They have practices and games that end at 10 pm on a school night. They spend their weekends at tournaments.  They joined elite teams at the age of 8 so they could make the high school team six years later.  They tell me they don't have time to do their homework.  They are exhausted.  They are getting more injuries than I have ever seen before.  They do math on weekends to get good scores on government-mandated testing.  They don't play outside because they need to practice their instruments.  These kids are crumbling under our expectations of being so good at everything that we sign them up for, and they are not happy.

But didn't we do all this to make them happy?  

Kids in fifth grade are saying that their parents want them to go to Harvard or MIT.  Kids in fifth grade say things like, "If I don't get a hockey scholarship, my parents aren't paying for college." Ten-year-olds are crying during a math test because they think if they don't get everything perfect, they won't get into a good college seven years later.  Eleven-year-olds are joining scouts, not because they love the outdoors, but because it will look good on a college resume.

They aren't learning this on the playground.

What if we all stopped doing this? What if we let our kids just play and maybe do one sport per season for fun? What if we stopped with all of the private lessons and enrichment tutoring and specialty camps and just let them ride bikes, explore the woods, and play basketball in the driveway? Would it affect their college decisions?  Maybe. But in reality, Harvard admitted less than 5% of its applicants this year.  Since the college algorithm usually runs something like, "This year, we are only accepting underwater basketweavers from Indiana who can play bagpipes while doing hula hoops and swallowing fire swords", most likely your kid and mine aren't getting in anyway.

They will go to college, but it might not be Stanford.  Or maybe they won't, if that's what they choose. And we need to be okay with that. Because in their first eighteen years, we are expecting them to live a lifetime of experiences and skills.

We want our kids to be happy.  But are they happy?  Do they love this life they live?  Do they enjoy being over-scheduled? Do they want the pressure to be the best?

Ask your kids to answer these questions honestly.  But be prepared for their answer.

© Cara Parker Photography, 2016