The Excitement of One

My daughter Ella had a sleepover with one of her third-grade classmates, Mikiele who, unlike Ella, has no siblings. Over dinner, Mikiele told Tanya, "I need more excitement in my life."

"Why?" my wife answered.

Mikiele shrugged. "Life's not that exciting with just a mom and a dad."

Tanya and I have two daughters. I have a sister. Tanya has two. Both of my parents have siblings. All my close friends have brothers or sisters. Considering my limited exposure to the relationship challenges of one-and-done situations, Mikiele's frank assessment of her family dynamics made me think: Are only children inherently disadvantaged? Are parents who stop at one child being selfish and unfair?

For most children, parents are the primary educators, at least before starting school. But I credit my older sister, Jodi, for teaching me vital skills like how to climb out of my crib and up the stairs, how to talk and read and generally how to behave in the world. Even now, while we manage our own families, Jodi and I are close friends and valuable resources for each other. The same goes for Tanya and her sisters.

Mikiele will never experience that kind of relationship. It doesn't mean that she's doomed to be over-privileged, selfish, aloof or maladjusted, often-used yet completely unproven myths about only children (often called singletons or onlies). In fact, she may end up better off than most of us. Recent research suggests Mikiele is more likely to score higher on her SATs and get into a better college than my kids, or any others with siblings.

In a 2010 article in Time magazine about the myths of only children, Toni Falbo, a professor of educational psychology and sociology at the University of Texas at Austin, wrote that singletons aren't measurably different from other kids in terms of personality. The major differences, Falbo wrote, are that onlies tend to benefit from a lack of "dilution of resources," which means that their parents have more money, time and energy to offer for extracurriculars like music and sports. This tends to lead to high expectations, but also to more self-confidence.

But before parents make a decision regarding the final tally of humans in their house, they must also consider the following: the U.S Department of Agriculture reports the average American child costs about $286,000 to raise before college. The American Pregnancy Association website says only two-thirds of all pregnancies in the U.S result in live births. Adoption can be prohibitively expensive and stressful. So the size of a family, like everything else in life, isn't always in our control.

The presence of a sibling undoubtedly changes the dynamic of a person's development. I feel fortunate that Ella and Sophia have each other, just as I feel fortunate to have my own sister. But judging from a historical sample of successful singletons - Franklin Roosevelt, Lance Armstrong, Condoleezza Rice, Isaac Newton, Frank Sinatra - Mikiele need not worry about a lack of excitement.

The Beauty of March Madness

My daughter Sophia and I were watching a college basketball game on TV last week when she asked, "Dad, how come all the players have dark skin?"

I pointed out that four of the 10 players on the court did not.

"Well, every time we watch basketball together, most of the players have dark skin," she said.

"Never noticed," I lied.

I always thought kids began to acknowledge differences in skin color once adult prejudices infiltrated their minds. So you can understand my surprise at Sophia's observation. I wondered: Was it better to simply ignore racial differences or broach the subject now?

According to the Racial and Gender Report Card, an assessment of hiring practices of women and people of color in U.S-based sporting organizations, 78 percent of players in the National Basketball Association in 2011 were black. Given that most NBA players attend U.S. colleges before being drafted, my 6-year-old was probably just stating the obvious. But there's more to this issue than recognizing skin color.

A person's appearance or background has no bearing on their innate personality or intelligence, yet racial disparities still exist in everything from socioeconomics to athletics and everything in between, and probably always will to some extent. We should certainly dismiss prejudices as irrational and oppressive, but we may be doing our children a disservice if we don't at the same time enlighten them to the fact that differences should be celebrated.

My concern is not that Sophia and her older sister, Ella, will suddenly decide to shy away from anything or anyone different; I'm worried about what happens when someone tries to tell them that uniqueness doesn't matter. I want them to be prepared to argue the opposite.

Jeremy Lin, a guard for the NBA's New York Knicks, is a perfect example of how minorities are dealt with in America and how far we still have to go. His meteoric rise to stardom endeared him to the media, who continually described him as a Taiwanese-American, not just a basketball player who made the most of his circumstances. In doing so, they missed the real opportunity in this situation.

Instead of merely pointing out the obvious, the media or even Lin himself could have seized the chance to educate the public about his family's Taiwanese culture and background. Rather than superficially repeating Lin's origins, which had nothing to do with his athletic skills, we all could have learned something valuable, a reward unto itself.

All races, creeds and nationalities possess unique cultural values that come from generations of practice, many of which have eased their way into everyday American life. Examine your daily routine and you'll recognize a favorite hobby, art form or food that originated somewhere else. Hints: yoga, Mozart and burritos.

At the current accelerating rate of globalization, it's only a matter of time before it will be mandatory for us to embrace all of civilization's unique pieces. In my house, it starts with watching March Madness.

Can Song Lyrics be Dangerous...For Parents?

Earlier this year I was listening to a Taylor Swift CD with Sophia, my 6-year-old, when the song "Picture to Burn" came on. "You know there's a bad word in there," Sophia said. "Mom said I can say it only if I'm singing along."

I shrugged.

"You know, the S-word," she said.

I was pretty sure that girl-next-door Taylor Swift didn't curse in her songs, but could I have been wrong? "What word is that?" I asked, with "sexy" or that other S-word coming to mind.

"Stupid," she said.

I exhaled. We listen to a lot of music in our house, but I'd never given much thought to how it might influence my children. I don't want to deprive them of the joys of music, but many of the songs that appeal to them - the ones with catchy, danceable beats - are thematically inappropriate for young kids. What can I do?

I have two confessions. First, some of the songs I listen to contain language I would not want my children to hear. Second, my children have inadvertently heard parts of those songs. I do my best to make sure they don't, but accidents happen.

I consider myself a responsible parent and citizen, and an adult with a right to make my own choices. I also have the ability to separate offensive messages in the media with reality. At 8 and 6, my children don't yet have the intellectual capability to determine what kind of social input could be harmful to them. My job as a parent is to limit their exposure to such things.

Unfortunately, many (if not most) of today's popular songs contain language that would have been considered scandalous 20 years ago. Radio stations bleep out the really bad words, but what's left often refers to sex, drinking, drug use and many other implicitly mature themes. Sometimes, even I'm horrified.

When adults hear things they know are taboo in society, they are less likely than children to be strongly influenced by them. Life experience and brain development allow us to understand context, weigh consequences and control our impulses. But if impressionable kids hear these messages enough, they may learn to think it's normal to glamorize sexual promiscuity and doing drugs. In other words, they can become desensitized.

Our family listens to the radio a lot, and not all songs are inappropriate. When a song comes on that I don't want my kids to hear, I change the station (when Ella doesn't tell me to do it first). What else can I do?

I can restrict listening to certain stations at home, but for how long? I can control what CDs they have in their room or what's on their iPod, but what about at a friend's house? Or at the mall? Or at school? I try to be open-minded when it comes to allowing my children the opportunities to make good choices, but this issue is not going away.

I can't be stupid about it.

Consistency and Consequences

Last week while trying to get the kids ready in the morning, I asked Sophia several times to put her dishes away, brush her teeth and put on her jacket. "Get moving or Ella and I are leaving without you," I finally said.

Sophia put her hand on her hip and replied, "No you won't because then I'll call the police and you'll get in trouble."

"True," I responded, somewhat embarrassed.

Six-year-old, 1. Dad, 0.

Sophia eventually got into the car, and we made it to school and work on time. But my kindergartener's statement got me thinking about how we frame choices to our children. All the parenting manuals say consistency is key, but even parents aren't perfect. So when it comes to threatening consequences, how consistent do we really need to be?

In our innocent until proven guilty justice system, all laws leave room for interpretation. Still, I'm pretty sure that if I had left Sophia alone and she called the police, I would have gotten into big trouble. If the authorities arrived at my house to find that I willfully left my 6-year-old at home just to teach her a lesson, I suppose I could have gotten slapped with a Class 2 misdemeanor child abuse charge, according to the Colorado Child Neglect and Abandonment Statutes. And the lesson would have been mine to learn, not hers.

Of course, I never would have done it, and therein lies my predicament. By offering up a consequence that I had no intention of enforcing, I set myself up for disaster. Sophia knew I wouldn't go anywhere, so I dodged a bullet that time. Or did I? She may be more likely to ignore my next threat on the same basis.

Kids are sensitive to sincerity (or lack thereof). If Sophia and her 8-year-old sister, Ella, learn that mom and dad always deliver on their promise of a time out, they'll probably be less likely to repeat an act that might cause it. But if I threaten on Monday to take away television for three days and let them watch on Tuesday, they won't take me seriously.

The difficulty arises when parents act human like everyone else and slip up. Consistency, at least with regard to parenting, shouldn't equate with 100 percent compliance. At least I hope not because that kind of strict adherence is impossible. Circumstances change and flexibility can sometimes be an asset. It shows our kids that the world doesn't exist in extremes. Sometimes I wonder if watching us err actually leads to more learning anyway.

A parent's role includes so much more than setting rules and routines. One of our most vital jobs is to teach kids about humility. That kind of instruction often takes place passively, as they watch us deal with and accept our shortcomings.

The jury's still out on whether my empty threat will eventually be used against me. Regardless, I'll do my best to follow through, and be glad that Sophia didn't.

Life Ain't Always Fair...

Last week while I was reading my daughter Sophia a bedtime story, her sister Ella snuck into the room with a blanket over her head and crawled to the side of the bed. Suddenly, both girls jumped on me and started tickling. After we had a good laugh, I settled them down enough to finish Sophia's bedtime routine.

When it was Ella's turn, Sophia copied her sister by sneaking into Ella's room. But it was getting late and I was looking forward to a few minutes to myself.

"Ella got to surprise you. Why not me?" Sophia asked. She stomped away and returned from her room with a frown and a dry erase board held in front of her chest. It read: "Mene dady. It is not fare."

I tried to be serious, but I'm a sucker for misspelled insults. Sophia wasn't amused and continued pouting. That night, my wife, Tanya, shrugged and said, "Well, life's not always going to be fair." It made me wonder: Should we strive for fairness in our family?

If children born to the same parents were strictly a product of their external environments, all siblings would turn out the same. We know, however, this is not true. Parents can distinguish differences early in their children's lives and are forced to adjust their behavior accordingly. In a child's eyes, this might amount to favoritism.

Tanya and I don't favor one child over another, but Ella and Sophia's age difference and contrasting temperaments make complete equality impossible. Ella sometimes stays up later and has sleepovers. Sophia goes to a movie with just Mom. Ella gets new shoes. Sophia goes skating with Dad. Sometimes they want what the other has, and jealousy presents itself. "It's not fair," is a common refrain.

Our job as parents is to prepare our children to handle the real world, including its cruel realities. Despite our best intentions, society doesn't dole out equal shares of rewards and punishments. A devoted family man loses his entire portfolio in the stock market and struggles to feed his family. A tsunami destroys an entire village of hardworking fishermen. Nice people get sick. Criminals go free. The world moves forward, whether we think things are fair or not. In the presence of injustice, real or perceived, it's our responsibility to either do something about it or accept it.

Eventually, our children will develop and grow into their own personalities. When that happens, they will diverge from their parents and one another. Jobs, relationships and other life situations will present themselves. Not all of them will be fair, and Mom and Dad won't be around to sort it out. I want my children to understand that while they can't always control what happens around them, they can control their own reactions.

I returned to Sophia's room and explained to her that sometimes Ella feels jealous of things she gets to do and that life won't always turn out even-steven. Mom and Dad do their best, but in all fairness, it's not so easy.

Connecting with the Universe

The other day in the car, a favorite song of mine came on. "Girls," I said to my daughters, "this is the same group who sings the song you like from that movie, 'School of Rock.' "

The instant after I said it, the very song I was talking about started playing. "Do you know what this means?" I asked excitedly. "It means we're connected to the universe! We asked for the song and it came on."

Sophia, my 5-year-old, was controlled in her happiness. "I didn't know I could do that," she said.

I believe that a positive attitude leads to happiness and success. If you want something enough and focus your energy on it, my wife Tanya and I tell our daughters, you can have and achieve whatever you desire. I call it "connecting to the universe."

In the real world, though, no one is successful 100 percent of the time. Children need to learn that adversity happens and the skills to deal with it. So I wonder: by promoting the ideas of unfailing positivity and a belief that one can manifest anything, am I setting up my kids for disaster?

I discussed this with a friend of mine whose outlook is different from my own. He works in the financial industry, dealing daily with billions of dollars in assets. He says that realists are idealists with experience and attributes his philosophy of enthusiastic caution to his job requirements. In analyzing countless statistics and measures that contribute to the global economy, he needs to be prudent. If he ignores significant data because of their unpleasantness, he runs the risk of financial disaster for his clients.

As a physical therapist, I have to concentrate on my patients' abilities - what they can do. If I heed the deficits more than I capitalize on the strengths, my clients may not realize their potential. Consequently, much of my life is spent convincing people of what is possible. And while the realism of certain conditions is unavoidable, I've learned that the human spirit is limitless when a desire is strong enough.

Our argument illustrates the depth of such philosophical differences. Some of my friends think I'm nuts, that my ideas run from naive, new-age mumbo jumbo to dangerous idealism. They joke at how my children are being set up for a life of rude awakenings. But I'd rather my kids be optimistic and be disappointed every once in a while than spend their lives living in a vacuum of pessimism. The results of positivity and belief in self-determinism, from Martin Luther King Jr. to Tim Tebow, are undeniable.

On the way home, Ella, my 8-year-old, asked me to change the radio stations. "I want to hear that song. I'm trying to connect to the universe," she said. I obliged her but, alas, no luck. "Why isn't it working?" she asked, sounding sad.

The beginning of the end, perhaps?

That night we manifested our song from iTunes and played it endlessly. The universe works in mysterious ways.

Teanage Pregnancy...Be Very Afraid

Ella and Sohpia, not pregnant
 Boynton Beach, Florida

On Christmas day, my daughters Ella and Sophia were pretending to be mothers to the new dolls they got that morning. Ella mentioned that she had become a mother at 8 years old.

"You can't have a baby at 8," my wife Tanya said. "That's impossible."

"OK, then I was 15," Ella said.

I breathed deeply to control my rocketing heart rate and oncoming nausea, then said, "Fifteen? There's no way you're getting pregnant when you're in high school. Don't even joke about it."

"We're just playing, Dad," Sophia, my 5-year-old said.

I wasn't amused. "I can't talk about this. You'll ruin your life if you have a baby before you finish college. Period."

Despite the challenges inherent in teenage pregnancy, I'm sure there are success stories out there. Nevertheless, I'll admit that no situation scares me more for my daughters than them having babies before they're ready. Just the thought of it gives me chills. Am I overreacting?

Family dynamics have changed considerably in the last century. The U.S Census Bureau website states that in 1900 the average American lived to be 47. In 2007, it was 77. When a woman was unlikely to live past her mid-40s, it made sense to have children earlier, whether she was ready emotionally or not. If she waited too long, she might not be alive to see her children grow up. And in a time when large families were necessary to help on the farm or with the family business, delaying motherhood and devoting time to professional pursuits was rare, even selfish.

Nowadays, it's no mystery that having a post-secondary education leads to more professional opportunities, higher earning potential and most importantly the ability to educate oneself. According to the National Center for Education Statistics, 57 percent of all college graduates in 2009 were female. Not surprisingly, then, almost 60 percent of American women are currently employed in the workforce (www.BLS.gov). Given the gender equality that now exists in the educational and professional arenas, as well as advances in reproductive medicine, women (and their partners) can afford to wait a few years to start a family.

For me, the issue is primarily biological. The frontal lobe of the brain, which is responsible for impulse control, judgment and assessing risk, is not fully developed until our early 20s. Any parent will tell you that if you can't control your drives or make heady choices, you're doomed to be eaten alive by the 24/7 job of parenting.

The divorce rate, consistently more than 50 percent tells us that most grown adults can't handle long-term relationships any better than irritable, immature, hormonal teenagers. Kids crave stability, which is not typical for a demographic that has to juggle school, work and finances, as well as the unforgiving minefields of peer pressure, dating and (gulp) sexuality.

Finally, if we don't trust our youth to control how much alcohol they can drink until they are 21, why isn't there a similar law prohibiting them from having babies before then?

I hope Ella got the point.