DIANE MAKAR MURPHY Parenting books aside, I'm taking a stand for my children

I think parenting is the toughest job in the world -- that is to say, good parenting. How many times would I have preferred to have said, "Go ahead; do what you want"?
"I don't want to brush my teeth."
OK.
"I'd rather not spend my summer reading."
No problem.
The parenting books preach "natural consequences." That is to say, the best "punishment" is the one that comes from the misbehavior itself. A child who plays at the table and spills his milk gets no more milk for that meal.
But what about my two examples above? Could I avoid a nightly battle by just letting my children skip teeth brushing? Of course not. But don't think I didn't harbor the fleeting thought of natural consequences. What sweet revenge it would be: an old toothless person sadly admitting mother should have been listened to.
But always, always, I would imagine the much more likely future: a toothless old person angrily cursing mother for letting a 6-year-old make such a choice.
And so, I became the enforcer.
Unprepared
Surprisingly, it's no easier with children approaching college age. Rather than head-butting over teeth-brushing, the subject is reading. I love to read.
I admit I didn't feel that way as a teenager. But back then, I had teachers who made me read in spite of myself.
Unfortunately, in too many high schools, that's no longer the case. I see, in my job as a composition instructor at Youngstown State University, how lacking many of today's graduates are.
Entrance compositions, written during a 50-minute session, often reflect a stunning lack of vocabulary. Even those students who have a passable set of words at their disposal sometimes misuse them or spell them phonetically -- a sure sign the writers expanded their vocabularies from hearing words via TV, rather than from reading.
Even more distressing, many papers show a lack of understanding of the book excerpt given to inspire a response. For many, reading comprehension skills aren't where they need to be for college.
In the worst cases, and increasingly so, children are submitting essays filled with e-mail and instant messenger-ease! "You" has been Internet-abbreviated to "U" as in "C U at Bob's Burger Barn, where I will probably end up working."
Good fight
Not everyone belongs in college. Not everyone will be an honors student. Every parent will admit that -- about someone else's kid. But, hey, I'm not going down without a good fight.
Every other week or so, I drag three or four books out of the library and put them in my son and daughter's bedrooms. When they're due, I take them back. I have done so off and on for months. So far, none has been read. I shudder to imagine the natural consequences.
My son has been saved for the moment by his speech instructor, and friend, who has given him books much hipper than I would ever think of. Since July, off and on, Josh's nose has been buried in a book.
My daughter, however, I have alienated completely. In a moment of complete frustration, I handed her a book of mystery short stories and demanded she read three of them and actually write a paper for each. (Uggh! The torture that comes with having an educator for a parent!) And, as far as I'm concerned, that's just the beginning.
Make a stand
I know you're shaking your head and tsk-tsking, for my action defies every parenting book ever written. Unquestionably, Hannah will grow up hating me, thinking I am an intrusive old hag stealing her summer freedom.
But, really, I don't think I care. If I let the natural consequences play out, there will someday be an old woman with perfect teeth working in a fast food restaurant writing a note to her husband, "C U after work."
But if I make a stand and take the heat now, even if she passes college by, she'll curse me with a good vocabulary. And that'll do.
murphy@vindy.com