Sometimes I think I was meant to parent in the 1970s, when it was okay to ignore your children and when kids were allowed more freedom than seems acceptable in today’s universe where, apparently, even dogs need strollers and Bjorns. Today, not only is there attachment parenting, but it applies to canines as well.

Me? I like my kids independent. I want them to have grit. I like them to know what it’s like to compete and even lose. I want them to know that they are not the center of the universe and that no, they aren’t great at everything. That when they ask me to play, I might say no and they will still have enough imagination to be able to find something to do. And if they don’t, I’ll ignore them until they do.

So, here’s my little guide – clues that we are/were meant to be a 1970s parent:

1.You’ve said things like “Go play” or “I was not put on this planet to entertain you,’ or “You have a room full of toys, I’m sure you’ll find something to do.” Actually, my preferred variation is something like “You’re bored? Really? Fine. I’m going give your toys to a kid who will appreciate them. No, really, I will. Move, I’m going in.”  I also may have piled toys into a category of “for kids who will play with them.” I have not had the cojones to actually follow through on this threat, but give me time, my kids are still pretty young. To those non-1970s parents reading this (perhaps in horror): Remember me fondly this winter when your kids are clambering all over you and you are debating the pros/cons of hermetic life. The above technique will give you a solid hour or two of quiet. You’re welcome.

2. You of course use/used car seats/seat belts, duh. You might ignore your kids, but you don’t (typically) neglect them. But you look back fondly on a) lying down in the back of a car – either across seat, or say, on the floor and/or b) traveling in taxis on the flip seats facing backwards. You may have actually stood up during some taxi rides. You vaguely wonder whether that was really all that unsafe. You alarm other parents by not always buckling your kids in seatbelts in cabs going 15 miles/hour (for the record: I always buckle other people’s kids in because I only believe in neglecting my own kids).

3. You don’t think the idea of leaving a responsible 8-9 yo alone for a few minutes is crazy and wish you could let your children travel to school alone before they can, say, vote, which now seems to be the accepted norm. Back in the good old 1970s, I took buses alone at 7. Seven. And things were not so coo mo dee back then in NYC. Today it’s safe, but we don’t let kids out of our sight for reasons that are unknown to me.

4. You don’t understand why the hell everyone has to “win.” Seriously. Why are there no losers anymore? When my daughter was in second grade, she had a mock-marathon at school which coincided with the real NYC marathon. I told her, “I don’t care if you come in first, just don’t lose.” I realize that many people would not say this to their children. I do. Here’s how that conversation went:
Child: “No one loses.”  Me: “Of course they do.” Child: “No. They stagger the start time so you can’t tell.” Me: “There are still losers. Trust me. Don’t be one of them.” Child: silent because she thinks I’m so wrong it’s not worth arguing about (and she’s probably right because this is how things roll now). I also have trophies for both of my kids for just showing up at, say, gymnastics. No great feats necessary, just being there is enough to deserve accolades. And don’t get me started on how there are “no math groups.” There are. And by now the kids know whether they’re in the smart group so let’s call it what it is. You aren’t going to be good at everything (but be in the best math group, okay?).

5. You are incensed when children don’t immediately love obvious classics like The Secret Garden, The Narnia series, and The Phantom Tollbooth. What is happening, people? These are not books kids (okay, my kids) find great. I am raising miscreants.

6. You have no problem asking your child to get you a drink/open a beer. In fact, you look forward to the day they can mix you a cocktail.

And that, my friends, is what I’m talking about.