Why Praising Parents Irks Me

Reflections on the complexities of parenting, the limits of nurture, and the painful realities of mental health and addiction.

Are you a member of your town’s Facebook page? In case you’re not familiar, this group forum serves as a digital bulletin board where town officials and residents share local news, events, announcements, etc.

I live in a small suburban town in Central Jersey’s shore region (yes, Bruce Springsteen country. BRUUUUUCE!), so our Facebook page consists mostly of “Who’s missing their dog?” posts and updates on Joe the Mailman’s health. 

In general, most people try to stay away from controversial subjects, but occasionally, a touchy subject gets raised, and people go on rants. Depending on my mood, I either microwave popcorn and pull up a chair to watch the drama or leave the group in disgust, not wanting to know how much I disagree with my neighbors’ opinions. I eventually rejoin when I’m curious about an event or a friend says, “Did you see what so-and-so said on the town’s Facebook page?” 

For the ten years we have lived in this small town, I’ve gotten involved in discussions on our town’s Facebook page twice. Once, when the town voted on a school referendum. My husband Chris was on the school board at the time. And once when someone said they were feeding the deer. The feeding of the deer made my head explode because although this person claimed to be helping the deer, they were actually hurting them. Don’t feed the wild animals, man. 

Wow, this is a long setup for today’s topic. Here it is: 

The other day, a woman posted on our town’s Facebook page about an experience she had at the town park. She complimented a group of middle-school boys for being kind to her toddlers. She was grateful because her young boys were so happy to play with the older boys. All of that is nice and fine. But she made one particular comment that made me bristle with antagonism¹. She said,  “Good job, mamas and dadas!!!”

Never mind her annoying baby talk in a post for adults; let’s break down why this comment ruffles my feathers. 

First, I believe complimenting parents for their children’s actions is misguided.  

I have raised three children and I honestly feel I had little to do with how they turned out. Did I feed them and keep them alive? Yes. Love and support them unconditionally? Yes. Those things make me a good parent. But their personalities? I had nothing to do with that. I know that because although I raised them the same, each of their personalities is wildly different and, as far as I can tell, these traits were ingrained at birth. 

Here’s another flip side to the “good job” comment. What if one of those middle school boys suffered from anxiety and didn’t feel comfortable interacting with the toddlers? Does that mean that the shy kid’s parents did a bad job?

Think about it. Her comment suggests doing a good job as a parent means having a child who acts a certain way. A good parent has a child who: 

• Is kind and patient.

• Goes to school and gets good grades.

• Acts responsibly all the time. 

• Never participates in reckless or even criminal behavior. 

So if that’s true, then the opposite is true. You are doing a bad job as a parent if you have a child who:  

• Acts like an asshole sometimes. 

• Refuses to go to school or gets poor grades

• Acts irresponsibly and makes stupid decisions.

If you have a teenager, you know that just because your kid acts badly, it does not mean you’re a bad parent. You HOPE your kid acts like the first list, you yell “Make good choices!” as they walk out the door, assuming they are walking out and not holed up in their bedroom for days on end. However, we all know there may be times your kid acts like the second list and it has nothing to do with your parenting.  

And this is where this topic gets personal for me. Because I have lost one sibling to the disease of alcoholism and one to suicide, does that mean my parents did a bad job?

My parents did all the things a parent can do to help a child who suffers from the disease of alcoholism and mental illness.  

They sought professional help, connecting us with therapists, even forcing us to attend family therapy sessions.

They educated themselves about our current problems. We had pamphlets on alcoholism floating around our house.

They offered different solutions to their children. They sent my brother to a boarding school, then to rehab, and then to another rehab. 

They offered emotional support to the best of their ability.

They created a supportive home environment. When my brother lived at home, my mom kept her Dewar’s Scotch hidden in a rolled-up poster in her office. I know because I swiped swigs from it often. Does the fact that I stole from her make HER a bad parent? I don’t think so.  

They set boundaries. I recently found the contract they made my brother sign when he moved back home.

And still, my siblings and I lied, stole money, made bad decisions while in a panic attack, got in car crashes while drunk, etc., etc. Our negative choices should not be a reflection of our parents. They did the best they could.  

So please, before you compliment a parent by saying, “Good job raising your kid,” when the kid acts appropriately, think about the parents whose kid may not be acting appropriately at this moment.  

I’m not saying the woman shouldn’t have praised those middle-school boys for being kind to her child. I agree with positive reinforcement. But she could have expressed her gratitude and even said, “If this is your child, you should be proud,” which is different from saying, “Good job, mama and dada.” (Ugh, the baby talk!)  

Does all this make sense? Am I being ridiculous? And for god’s sake, please don’t feed wild animals! Please!   

For your amusement, here is a video of two bucks fighting in my backyard. I don’t feed the deer, and still, this many gather. I love the end of the video when the one-antlered deer stares at me.

Disclaimer: To err is human. Please excuse any typos or grammatical errors. I employ Grammarly, but mistakes happen. In this world of AI, they're my way of keeping things delightfully human.

1. “Bristle with antagonism” is one of those AA phrases I love. It comes from the Big Book, page 48, “Many of us have been so touchy that even casual reference to spiritual things made us bristle with antagonism.”