It's October--Beware the Millennial Parent

Scary Behavior--It's Magic 1,2,3

If you’ve ever had the distinct displeasure of sharing a waiting room with a millennial mom and her children, you likely wanted to pull your hair out within about five minutes. The harrowing experience usually includes an iPad on high volume, with a mom rattling off “choices” in a chipper voice and driving weak negotiations with a kid who doesn’t fear inane counts of “one, two, three” or “time outs.” No amount of snacks, videos or pleading calms the hair-raising chaos. Millennials have produced children that are some of the most unpleasant little humans ever to grace our waiting rooms.

I’m still in the thrills and thralls of raising kids, and although I’m only halfway through, I have some thoughts. Before I get rolling with my parenting pontification, though, I’ll offer a disclaimer: I hesitated to write this piece at all. I feared painting an entire generation of parents with unflattering, sweeping generalizations—even if well-deserved.

Such accusations are thus best served with a little self-reflection and confession, and I’ve had no shortage of both in my years of parenting six children. I’m in good company, too; since “there is none righteous, no not one,” no generation has produced perfect humans; and parents of all generations are guilty of a variety of sinful deficits and dumb miscalculations. My own children remember one episode from years ago that put my weakness on full and fiery display. Angry over a burnt dinner and faced with a sea of hungry faces, I flung a plastic-handled scrubber across my kitchen, an impassioned move that resulted in crying children and a window replacement—oops. To err is human, and to break a window is expensive.

I must also confess that parenting in our virtue-despising culture is indeed a battle. While every generation has its evils, the millennial parenting landscape is nearly unrecognizable to those of us over fifty. Darkness isn’t just lingering around seedy convenience stores anymore; it’s under our own roofs, running our schools, and governing our people. All sorts of crude nonsense awaits our young children, who at age four navigate smart phones better than most adults. Schools have “broadened” children’s minds into gigantic dumpsters, ready to receive all the latest progressive rot. Maybe yesteryear’s Schoolhouse Rock is to blame; its audience included today’s elected officials, who are now cartoons themselves but apparently know little of the Constitution (or grammar, for that matter).

Parenting is therefore an increasingly treacherous endeavor, which ideally should demand a great deal more discretion. Here is where I’ll descend into some unhappy observations. I’ll start with a couple scenes that typify the millennial parents I encounter regularly.

One of my younger children rides a school bus home every day; it drops off at a parking lot in an affluent neighborhood. (I point out the affluence lest some imagine I’m describing the wild illiterati from a struggling “government school.” ). Before the bus arrives, the parking lot is full of younger moms in long SUV’s, often filled with younger children. In one of these vehicles sits a stylish mom whose darlings stand on seat backs, poke through the sunroof and scream while they command an elevated view of the parking lot. One child prefers to get out and perch on the hood. Mom usually exits the car to socialize, looking glammed up and oh-so-unconcerned while her adorable “free spirits” roam the top of the car.

Another scene—this time at an orderly classical school—illustrates the same millennial sensibilities. Many of the talented teachers at this school are young marrieds, and several have babies, toddlers or kindergartners. These fun teachers love to bring their little ones to varsity basketball games, where they let their little ones sprawl on the sideline of the court during the game, slide around the court on their stomachs at halftime, and bumble around under a hail of flying basketballs after the game ends, when boys take shots with no regard for toddlers roaming under their feet. The message here? Don’t be too stuffy and concerned about obvious dangers—that’s “helicopter parenting,” right? Being a relaxed parent means putting free-roaming toddlers in the path of size 14 basketball shoes, in addition to inviting the next lawsuit.

Let’s move to a different scenario—church. This one’s a bit tricky, because I’m thrilled when I see young families in the pews. It’s encouraging to see the next generation of families together in worship, keeping to the old paths, hearing the word preached. Hearing, however, isn’t guaranteed when you’re positioned near a child whose millennial mom who gives her toddler a loud clicking toy for entertainment, or when the gentle-parented, iPad toddler screeches in defiance every four minutes. Instead of walking the halls for a bit—as many moms did for years—millennials ride it out in the sanctuary, along with the distracted (and perhaps aggravated) congregants around them; doesn’t everyone else think little Braxton is adorable, too?

Eventually, the millennial spawn hit middle school, and that’s when things get super fun for teachers. Do you think respecting authority, paying attention and saying “yes, sir” and “yes, ma’am” are important? Well, millennial parents don’t, because those habits are harsh, dated, and too contrived. “Bruh” or “yeah” will do just fine. Does it really matter how Braxton expresses himself to adults when he has diagnosed ADHD, dyslexia and anger issues? Watch for the cool millennial dad when he cruises through carpool in his Jeep—hat backwards, sunglasses on, expensive “doodle” dog in back seat—and then all this will make more sense.

Blaming millennials has become a bit of a sport, and a very fun one if you have a sense of humor. Behind these surface chuckles lurks a real danger, though. Too many young adults lack wisdom in the basic tasks of parenting, preferring psychological fads over firm discipline and real wisdom. They mistake carelessness for freedom, pandering for praise; they obsess over mental health while ignoring spiritual health. They fear discipline but welcome iPads and phones. As a result, their children are terrors to their parents and teachers—and even to themselves, if childhood depression rates are any indication.

Even scarier, parents of all generations often know little of the best parenting book—God’s own word, which is full of evergreen truth. Human nature doesn’t change with the times, and neither does God, despite our flow of books and prescriptions that skirt around those inconvenient truths. His words were as true and efficacious for ancients as they are for the smartphone generation. In the end, only God himself can satisfy kids’ hungry and defiant hearts; and in God’s heart, parents find strength to support their own.

Like the generation before, though, millennials left the old paths; those were too hard, too steep, too offensive and just no fun. Psychologists, authors, and popular prescriptions are driving decisions for mom—just power up the iPad, give them choices, and follow with perky praise. The expert’s books are haunting us now, and virtue has taken a back seat—perhaps riding beside that expensive millennial dog.