When no advice is good advice...

ALBANY, N.Y. - March 12, 2013 - PRLog -- by Sheila Carmody

My daughter came into the world conversing in compound sentences.

"She's so articulate," we said.

As parents, we beamed with pride - she was so verbal at such a young age. She never went through the period most kids go through when you can't understand a word they're saying. Everyone heard and understood my daughter - loud and clear.

Then she turned 4. Suddenly, her verbal skills became a weapon on a par with infamous attorney Johnnie Cochran.

Somehow, she has left me agreeing white is black, California is a country, pink is my color, the school day is 23 hours long. The list goes on and on.

And she always has an explanation for her behavior. I fear I may never again get the last word in on anything.

The words of Lauren Bacall's character, spoken to daughter Mimi Rogers, in the movie "The Mirror Has Two Faces" reverberate in my mind daily: "I should have never encouraged you to speak."

Right or wrong, Nicole, 7, argues every point and responds to every admonishment, ad nauseam. Once in a while, I reach a breaking point, turn to her and say, "Do not open your mouth. I mean it. Do not even part your lips."

Of course, she always does, which is why I recently decided to consult an expert. Time to pull a book off the shelf and find out how to handle this.

I'm not saying I'm proud of it, but I rarely consult experts on child rearing. Early on, I discovered that Dr. Spock didn't have all the answers.

I used to sit staring at the pages of his book, waiting for an answer to appear. "The answer must be in another section," I thought, as I hurriedly flipped back to the index.

On the other hand, infants are more of a mystery, I surmised. After all, they can't SPEAK. Maybe the answers are more concrete with older children.

I grabbed "The Discipline Book: Everything You need to Know to Have a Better-Behaved Child - From Birth to Age Ten." I purchased it one day in desperation, probably for the same reason I needed it now. I began by flipping from back to front. I thought surely a large section of the book would be devoted to my problem: The Mouthy Child.

The first words I saw in bold were "Parenting the shy child." No, I don't need that. Next was "Building healthy sexuality." "I should look at that later," I thought, and kept going.

"Sharing" popped up. No problem there. She shares, particularly her thoughts. "Helping your child express feelings." Oh no. I don't want that.

This was going to require more research than I thought. I consulted the contents section.

Finally, I found Chapter 15 had a section called "answering back."

"That's it!"

I turned to page 191. The words biting, hitting, pushing and kicking started the chapter. "I guess I should be happy I don't have that problem," I thought. Further on, I came across something called supermarket discipline. I read it. Leave the kids home, it said.

Rest assured, if you see my daughter with me in the supermarket it means there is not a scrap of food in the house and no adult around to watch her while I get the food. "Common sense," I thought. Suddenly, I flashed back to Dr. Spock: "My problem won't be solved in the pages of this book," I thought.

I pressed on . . . and on.

Finally, I found it. The words "Answering Back" in big, black bold letters.

"Does your child always demand the last word?" it said.

"My child is the last word," I thought.

The first section segued into the next section with the words - "Try these suggestions for the child who answers back."

Suggestion: "If you don't want your child to say 'Shut up' to you, don't say it to her."

They should have titled this book "Parenting for Stupid People."

The authors then went on to say, "Unless it's a biggie, disrespectful or clearly done to taunt you, chalk it up to normal development."

What's a "biggie?"

I kept reading.

The authors gave a personal example of back talk in their home: One day they accused their son of dawdling, while the rest of the family was in the car waiting for him. He defended himself, saying, "The reason why he had to go back in the house was to get his shoes. This was not talking back," the authors wrote, "but rather a developmentally appropriate comment from a child at a stage when he is learning a sense of social fairness."

"Why," I wondered, "is he leaving the house without shoes."

Next, the authors recommended the "I've lived a lot longer than you" speech.

My daughter's eyes glaze over with that speech. I don't blame her. She has no basis for understanding that with age comes wisdom.

The next section recommended time-out until both parent and child calm down.

To be truthful, these are not shouting matches. Frankly, I can't compete, so I don't shout.

I just sigh.

As expected, I didn't find the answer I was looking for - until I turned to page 87.

On page 87, the authors promote a custom called the daddy-daughter date.

Now, we're getting somewhere.

Of course, this is nothing new in our house. We just have a different label. We call it - "Where's your father?"

I closed the book and put it back on the shelf. It was useful in one sense. In reading some of the other sections - "cleaning up dirty words; steps to breaking habits, including head banging; preventing tantrums" - I realized my problem was small and one I could handle without the aid of experts.

Thank God for that.

Sheila Carmody is a Daily Record features writer.

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