I hear this a lot: we’re coddling our kids. We’re raising a generation of kids who expect to be praised for completing basic requirements, who got trophies just for participating, and who expect to see success for basically doing what’s expected of them. Every working adult knows someone like this from work—someone fresh out of college that thinks they’re still living with their parents (or sometimes actually is still living with their parents). And the general consensus is that these people will destroy America.

Entitlement is not a new concept to Americans. It’s been the foundation of our advertising longer than I’ve been alive (“You deserve it!”), and it’s such a big part of our culture that it’s often the first thing foreigners will bring up about us. And it’s not modern psychology. If you ask any competent psychologist, they’ll agree that this phenomenon is incredibly damaging to people of all ages. So what we’re seeing here is not a dramatic shift, but the compounded effects of generations of living like this.

But there’s another side to that coin. For every kid raised with irresponsible, irrational positivity and entitlement, there’s a kid without even a healthy amount of joy or comfort. There are kids who go their entire lives without hearing a positive word of encouragement from their parents. There are kids whose only meals are the free lunches provided by their public schools. For every kid who believes he should get something for nothing, there is one who believes he should get nothing for anything, because that is precisely what he has received thus far in life.

So, believe it or not, there is an objective measure to how bad our national parenting skills are, and it has nothing to do with entitlement. In 1985, there were approximately 261,000 kids in foster care. These are kids who were forcibly removed from their homes due to bad situations. In 2005, that number rose to 513,000. That’s an increase of 96.5% in 20 years.

In 1985, the American population was approximately 238,000,000. In 2005, it was approximately 296,000,000. That’s an increase of 24.3% in 20 years.

So, in 20 years, the rate of families that were deemed so harmful to their children that intervention was required rose 397.5% faster than the population rate. And we’re worried about kids getting trophies that they may not deserve.

Ironically, the people most likely to say that we’re spending too much time sheltering our kids are likely the most sheltered adults. We don’t see the people from truly troubled backgrounds, because many of them are unemployed high-school drop-outs we will never interact with. We get mad at people who beg for better grades in college, but we completely miss the ones begging for change because they’re homeless once they move out of abusive homes. And the problem is growing because these kids are 600% more likely to get pregnant before the age of 21, but 600% less likely to graduate from high school. (Those are real figures.)

So, back to my original point, is over-coddling a problem? Will we have a whole generation of kids who expect praise for just doing their job? I’ve worked with a few people like that, fresh out of college. They never last more than a year before they get fired. I believe that problem will sort itself out once these kids fall from their heights of blissful imagination and crash into the vast ocean of reality. But the bottom is crumbling, eroding, and may be falling out, and those problems are far harder to recover from. I think it’s time we worry less about trophies and care more about tragedies, because those are problems in need of a serious solution.

I have a confession to make. As a Christian, I cringe most of the time when someone says, “God called me to [x].” Not because I don’t think it’s true—I’m sure, a lot of times, it is—but there are also a lot of times when it’s not. And there are a lot of times when it’s ridiculous. Here are some statements I’ve actually heard over the years:

• “God’s calling me to freelance work right now.” (Said when I suggested that someone look for a job with a regular paycheck. Because God loves your abject poverty.)
• “God’s calling us to date right now.” (Ahh, so that painful break-up a few months later wasn’t your fault.)
• “God hasn’t called me to help the poor.” (My guess is he later got fired because his boss didn’t ask him to do his job.)

What it boils down to is that people in general want a more authoritative way of saying, “I just felt like it.” People do it in other ways, too, like when someone says, “You just have to follow your heart.” But the striking thing about the Christian version is how widespread, and damaging, it is.

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If you don’t already know, Isaac has a thing for Sonic the Hedgehog. And when I say he has a thing for Sonic, I mean he literally thinks he is Sonic. He’s assigned Sonic characters to each of the neighborhood kids—for instance, Braden is Silver the Hedgehog. But Isaac’s best friend is a girl who lives right next door named Kaylee. Kaylee was Tails (Sonic’s main sidekick) for a while, but recently got assigned Amy Rose, Sonic’s girlfriend:

Kaylee’s been Amy Rose for a few days, now, and she’s already taken to chasing around Sonic with her giant pretend hammer. There’s at least one hammer episode a day over here.

So today, while Kaylee was coloring a picture in our dining room, Isaac enlisted Janelle’s help to find a picture of Amy and Sonic. And then he wrote this note on the paper and read it aloud to her.

I like to think that my poetic flair has rubbed off on him. I’m expecting full Sonic sonnets within a year.

Alright, I have a story to tell. You must first know the characters. There’s me and Isaac, for starters—but there’s more! We have a small collection of puppets (yes, puppets) at our disposal. We have a police chief and a snow leopard, but they don’t come into this story. The other two characters you have to know are:

So, in this story, I was controlling Llama McMamaman and Isaac was controlling Tyson the Bison. Isaac gathered up the puppets, handed me Llama, and asked me to join him on the couch. The following are actual events:

“Well, hi Tyson!” said Llama.

“Hey, what’s over there?” Tyson asked.

Llama looked over to where Tyson had indicated. At that very moment, Isaac ripped a massive fart and started laughing hysterically. And I know there are small, insignificant little farts that happen every day. This was not one of them. This one smelled like rotting cabbage mixed with turpentine. This was of the variety that can only come about by eating off of the kids menu at restaurants. Llama was taken aback by this.

“Was that you, Tyson?” Llama asked with a shaky voice.

“Nope!” said Tyson definitively.

“Well, I’m just going to move over there,” Llama said. I got up and moved him to a chair across the room.

Llama was very disturbed by this turn of events. Tyson had always been a good friend. But then, flatulence happened, which is considered a criminal offense in some places. Tyson continued to play and carry as if nothing had happened, but Llama could not get the sound, and smell, out of his mind.

“Hey, do you want to come back here?” asked Tyson, pulling Llama from his mess of thoughts.

“Nope!” stated Llama.

At that point, Isaac got up and soberly walked over to the chair where Llama and I were sitting. When he reached us, he dropped Tyson to his side.

“It was me,” Isaac admitted.

It was a proud parenting moment for me. He had taken responsibility for his own actions! I am father of the year!

“Well, that’s ok,” said Llama.

Isaac then proceeded to pretend-pee into Llama’s mouth, and then Tyson forced him to gargle with it.

Isaac is now in bed. (I should point out that he farted again as we were reading to him, and it was just as bad.) As I write this, Llama is lying face-down on the floor next to the coffee table, sobbing and asking “WHY?” every so often while shaking his hooves at the heavens. It will be a rough road to recovery, but I firmly believe that Llama will heal in time. Just one step at a time, buddy. Just one step at a time.

So I’m feeling really weird right now, and I know exactly what it is. I’m disassociating. I’ve written a bit about this before. It’s weird. It’s like I’m watching the events unfold around me without really being there, and it’s like I’m watching myself react and do things unconsciously without really “being there.” I think this is the first time I’ve blogged while feeling like this, so I wanted to see what comes out.

The whole night, I’ve been having memories that I’m not entirely sure are real or not. I was at band practice, and remembered playing some of the songs we played before on piano. I hardly play piano, so this is highly unlikely. I don’t know if it happened or not. I remember several conversations from this week that I’m not sure actually happened. I think I had a few other memories pop into my head that are a little suspect—it’s a little hard to remember and get it straight in my head right now.

But with all those suspicious memories, I sure have a hard time recalling things I should be able to. I don’t remember half of the drive home. I drove through Taco Bell, but I don’t remember pulling in there, and I didn’t know why I was there at first. When I got home, Janelle noticed I looked weird, so I gave her an explanation. I can’t remember what I said.

So, basically, I’m feeling really weird right now. If you didn’t read the other post, this is just something that happens to me sporadically, so there’s no real cause for alarm.

I’m having trouble paying attention to anything for more than a few seconds. I felt myself slipping a bit during band practice, but it only got really bad on the drive home. Now, I’m even re-reading some of what I just wrote and I don’t remember writing it.

Let me pause for a second and just state that everything’s fine. This is just something that happens to me from time to time. It’ll probably be gone in the morning. It has been a long time since this happened, though, so it’s weird feeling it again. I’m wondering if this is going to make sense when I read it tomorrow. I honestly don’t know.

It feels like you’re watching yourself in a movie. It’s hard to explain. Also, I’m wide awake and my hands are shaking. I want to walk around for a bit.

Most of you know about this, but to any who don’t, we have some big news. On Thursday, the 24th, we took Isaac in to live with us and be a part of our family. Isaac is a 10-year-old that comes to us from the foster system. We’ve been working on this for a long time, and we’ve gotten to know Isaac a bit over the past two months or so.

The experience so far has had some amazing moments, some heartbreaking moments, and some very frustrating moments—much like many parents experience, I’m sure, but a kid from the foster system brings its own challenges. I don’t really feel like posting them all here, but feel free to ask me about them and I’ll let you know how things are going.

What I can say is that I administered three time-outs today. I am an effing badass. Don’t let Janelle read that, though, or else I’m going in time-out.

So I ate at Pei Wei today, and later found myself feeling, well, terrible. Like, really bad. The thing is, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me at Pei Wei. It happened just a few months ago. And it also happened at Panda Express sometime in the last six months or so. So I have a theory on that.

Ages ago, my ancestors left Asia to cross the Bering Strait and settle Alaska. The Asian people got lonely and longed for the presence of my people, the Alaskan Native people, but to no avail. Eventually, the Asian people grew to hate my people. So now, they poison our food from time to time.

It’s the only explanation that makes any sense.

Christie over at Girl On Canvas got a kick out of an old post I did on font snobbery, so I’m posting this graphic I made a few days ago detailing our rough existence.

And for the record, yes, there is a difference between Arial and Helvetica. I see it every day. Every single day.

There’s a bumper sticker that simply says, “Why be normal?” I have a confession to make. My blood boils a little bit every time I see that bumper sticker. It’s a rather innocuous thing, I know, but there’s something fundamentally wrong with that.

The people who usually get a smile out of that and put it on their car usually fall into one of two groups:

1. People who are so dysfunctional can’t begin to understand what “normal” really means
2. Normal people who want to appear quirky and can’t begin to understand what “normal” really means

The vast majority are in that second group.

Let’s take a second and define the word “normal.” I cringe whenever I hear someone say, “Well, nobody’s normal,” or, “Nobody’s family is normal.” Statements like these show how little this word is understood. Let’s look at what the dictionary actually says:

conforming to the standard or the common type; usual; not abnormal; regular; natural

“Conform” is not an attractive word these days, so most people want to avoid it like the plague. But let’s look at the other words in there.

Common – So normalcy is defined by what most people embody. If nobody is normal, then it’s time to revisit that definition, because it makes no sense at all. Yes, everyone is different, but these differences are accounted for in the definition of the word. Even with all of our differences, there are a number of commonalities that tie most of us together. For instance, if something sad happens, it’s normal to feel sad. This is a nice, normal reaction held by most people. Similarly, if something good happens, it’s normal to feel happy. If one is inexplicably sad when something good happens, and there’s no other cause for the sadness, this is not normal. If someone had no emotional reaction whatsoever to a strongly emotional event, this is not normal.

Not Abnormal – “Normal” is a bad word, but, inexplicably, “abnormal” is as well. “Abnormal” clearly implies that something is wrong, something is off. It’s important to remember that these are opposites. If nothing’s wrong, if nothing’s off, you are normal. In this sense, it is definitely not a bad thing.

Natural – In the same vein as the last one, normalcy is very much defined by our nature. The concept of human nature only exists because it is common to the vast majority of humans. And most of us have a pretty good grasp on what human nature includes. So everyone has a pretty good concept of normal, and it’s usually pretty easy to spot when someone deviates from it.

Growing up with severe depression, I was not “normal.” I was different, and not in the way that everyone is different. I was different in a way that only a few people are different. I was different in a way that nobody understood. Most importantly, I was different in a way that was very bad for me. There was nothing enviable about my position.

Admittedly, during this time, I may have even bought that bumper sticker and put it on my car. But that’s not how I felt. I adopted coping mechanisms, much like a kid who does not excel academically begins to despise those who do. But when I was honest with myself, I wanted desperately to be normal. I wanted to be able to feel happiness freely, not at the whims of a shortage or excess of brain chemicals. I wanted to be able to trust that feelings that I had were legitimate and actual. I wanted to have some of the same experiences that others had—not all of the same, of course, but just enough to where I knew there was nothing wrong with me.

When people say things like, “nobody is normal,” it usually goes to show that they have no real concept of abnormality. These people have usually never experienced the alienation, pain, and isolation of true, chronic abnormality. In short, they have no appreciation for what they have.

Additionally, taking words like “weird” and “different” and applying them to everyone takes away any ground for those of us who are truly different to stand on. If everyone is weird, and we’re weirder than them, then what are we? There are other, less innocuous words that we usually settle into, like “disturbed,” “dysfunctional,” or a number of much harsher terms that I’ve heard throughout my life.

I am proud to say that, with some help, I’ve overcome a lot of these shortcomings in my life. I would now describe myself as mostly normal, and I’m very happy to be where I am.

So I apologize to anyone who has said these things (or placed the bumper sticker) innocently. My intent is not to put anybody on a guilt trip for making what was intended to be a light, fun comment. I’m only trying to explain the darker side of this mentality and the subtle or not-so-subtle effect it can have on people. Next time the urge comes up to use this in conversation, think about what you’re saying. It could carry much more meaning than you know.

My first eBook is available for download here. If you read it, please give me your thoughts. It will likely go through some more edits before I put it up for sale on Amazon.

Right now, it’s just the Kindle format. I’ll need to sit down and figure out other formats, which I’ll hopefully do this week.