Scream-free parenting: Not an adherant, and if entirely truthful, not even an advocate.
Call me insensitive, call me reactionary, call health and human services, but I genuinely believe occasions occur wherein a little strategically applied vocal verve effectively sells it to the back of the house.
For those genuinely fearful for my sweeties’ psyches, perhaps a bit of clarification is merited. If a napkin doesn’t make it to a lap, my larynx isn’t overworked. If the playroom is in utter disarray, I don’t dole out the decibels. Hurting each other? I’m hollerin’.
In the 21st century, my fear is that as a parenting population, we tend to tippy-toe too tentatively, viewing our children’s omnihappiness (yes, the “yelling” inhibits glee temporarily; but to my view, justly. Isn’t that how correction/behavior-modification occurs? Don’t those mice in the maze get an ever-so-slight buzz in order to learn the “right” path?) as more important than their ability to cope adequately in the inevitably non-coddling adult environment. Risking their long-term social acumen and fluency for the fleeting parental “self-satisfaction” of maintaining my cool (and their “friendship”) by following the highly touted tot-raising trends du jour just seems far more insensitive than my currently employed, twin audience attention-getting, maternal method. I don’t want my kids to enter adulthood emotionally ill-equipped — having never confronted “enthusiastic” redirection.
For me: Loud = Love.
[Side benefit: He-Twin and She-Twin have long been comfortable with large gaping mouths…]
