Confessions of an Average Driver

I've been driving for a while now, and I feel like I have a good sense of my abilities. I'm an average driver. I'm not a particularly bad driver. I don't cause accidents. I don't try to cut other drivers off. That said, I also don't think I'm that good of a driver. I have twice backed into stationary poles (in my defense, the poles did come out of nowhere). I'm cruising along somewhere in the middle lane of the driving-ability highway.

My point isn't that it's OK to be content with average. My wife is a much safer driver than I am, and I would like to be as safe as her (or at least, stop backing into poles). With Paulina here, I've make a concerted effort to drive safer, and to think about my driving a lot more. It's great to strive towards being better than we are.

My point is that average has become a dirty word, particularly when it comes to children. No one wants their child to be average. And so, we spend a lot of money on stuff - stuff that we think will prevent our child from being average. I've now walked through my local Giant-Baby-Store-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named thoroughly, and what I've seen is a lot of "Child Development" toys, videos, books, and blankets.

OK, so I made up the part about the blankets. But, you can see it, can't you. "Buy this "Snoggie" Blanket because it promotes learning." Let's ignore the fact that there's no possible mechanism by which a particular blanket allows children to learn better. You can see a company making this claim, can't you? Just as an aside, whenever you see the claim that a particular product "promotes child development," ask yourself how it does this.

Anyway, here we are, new parents, and we buy stuff. And why do we buy stuff? We see our friends with children buying similar kinds of stuff, and talking to each other about their stuff, and we see advertising for the stuff, and something deep inside of us feels the need to have the stuff. If all of our friends have the stuff, and we don't, then we feel our children will fall behind. This is a fallacy, of course, but it's hard to make anyone believe that. For instance, at a recent family outing, I overheard Lisa talking with another parent, who was singing the praises of a particular kind of jumper because it had all of these bells and whistles, which "kept her child busy," but also "helped her child learn."

Learn what exactly?

Here's the thing. It's what developmental psychologists have been telling parents for a really long time now. It's not about stuff. It's about time. It's about interaction. Parents can buy all the stuff they want, but if they don't spend time with their babies, showing them how to interact with the stuff - playing, pretending, and just basically hanging out, focused on their kids - the stuff doesn't really do that much. And really, the stuff is just gravy - you are more interesting to your baby than any object, even if it lights up, plays music, or is named after a famous scientist.

Heard this before? Good. It's a lesson worth repeating. But there is a flip side to this rant, and I don't think developmental psychologists talk about it much.

When Paulina was born, Lisa and I bought a Book-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named about communicating with infants. I liked it because it was written by developmental psychologists I respect, and it taught a system that requires parents to spend time with their children. But, here's the thing: I read (adult books) only when Paulina sleeps (I also only write this blog when she sleeps). Thus, my time to read is at a premium. I was stunned to see that the first chapter of the book was nothing more than glorified praise for the system. It contained no useful information. I spent the time reading this for no reason whatsoever.

OK, I get it Authors/Scientists-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, you're proud of your system, which has done a lot of good for parents and babies, and it's nice to illustrate that. But we're new parents, which is an exercise in sleep deprivation, patience, tolerance for bodily functions, and laundry. We need to know what we need to know and not extra stuff that just sells more books or the accompanying DVD that can be purchased for another $12.99. During the time it took me to read that first chapter, I could have been sleeping, or buying diapers online, which is my new hobby, or just goofing off, which would have been more productive. I want that time back. Authors Who Shall Not Be Named, get to the point!

Science is hard. Communicating scientific findings to the public is even harder (it's why almost all scientists I've ever met find Science on national news to be a joke). But Developmental psychologists specifically have the obligation to communicate to parents in a way that is not only clear, but also concise and relevant. This is unfortunately, not easy. It's an art form, and I've met only a handful of scientists who are good at it. I don't think I'm one of them. I think I'm about average. If only there were flashcards to help me.