December - What Not To Wear

The recent arrival of bitter cold temperatures in Denver has many of us discarding concerns around global warming in favor of nudging the thermostat up and dramatically increasing our carbon footprint. Rising sea levels may be bad for California but freezing in your own home is far more of an immediate climate crisis. Most people tend to dress appropriately for these frigid conditions – indeed those heinous fur-lined Crocs take on an entirely different fashion value in these desperate times. It is not uncommon to see people dressed as though they are competing in the Iditarod, this in spite of the fact that they are sitting on the freeway in the Suburban with the heat cranked-up to 80. This alignment between cold temperatures and climate-appropriate clothing does not appear to apply to the average American teenage boy. Especially mine.

Tom Whittaker wrote yesterday in his witty blog of witnessing some heartless parent in a luxury car practically kicking his son out at the bus stop. The kid was wearing a t-shirt. Temperature in the single digits. This, understandably, struck Tom as an example of lousy parenting. It seemed to me to be par for the course. His post set off a string of comments (I’m guilty too) that reveals that there are two groups of people in the world – 1) those that value and cherish the safety, health and well-being of children and; 2) the parents of teenagers.

Those in group #2 most likely were members of group #1 until their children hit the brick wall that is adolescence. As a card-carrying member of group #2, I have grown weary of the daily battles surrounding what my kids wear (or don’t), what they eat (or won’t), as well as what they say (or should). I am no longer aghast at my son’s choice of shorts, t-shirt and pool slides for arctic conditions that would have made Sir Ernest Shackleton run for the closest REI store. This morning, a balmy 6 degrees, I received a fittingly icy stare in response to my suggestion that some type of coat might be helpful. Like most group #2 members, each loving and well-intentioned kernal of parental guidance (aka control) is met with the rolled-eyes that signal how fatiguing it is to have been cursed with parents that are so annoying. (Someone once said that his daughter’s eye rolls were so dramatic that he could hear them roll. I can attest to the truth in this).

This is the karma payback that I get for taking my then recalcitrant 4 year old to preschool wearing only his pajama bottoms. The parenting class said, “children must be allowed to make their own choices and learn that those choices have consequences”. So when, for the umpteenth time, he refused to get dressed for preschool, it seemed perfectly fitting to march him out to the car, through the snow, for the ride to school. As we drove the mile to preschool I could barely hear my son screaming at me – what with the A/C blowing full-blast and the windows rolled down! I assured him that I understood that he was cold but to not worry because I had chosen to wear a coat and shoes, so was really warm. He looked like a hypothermia survivor of an Everest expedition gone bad, albeit one that was equipped with cowboy pajamas instead of Gore-Tex. The result was not a well-deserved visit from Child Protective Services but a kid that no longer required any encouragement to dress appropriately for winter weather. “Lesson learned!” I gloated and it worked for another few years. But slowly, the defiance grew over time until today I am resigned to being one of “those parents” that group #1 looks at as if my kids should be placed into foster care until I learn some parenting skills.

As you pass the bus stop this winter, know that the middle school kids that are dressed more for the beach than for the arctic cold, actually do have parents that have helped them survive to this point. They’ve just given up on this particular battle.