Welcome to Bad Parents Anonymous. We’ll go around the room — please introduce yourself.

Hi, I’m Karen and I’m a bad mom.

Hi Karen.

I … [choke] … have competitive kids.

[shocked gasp]

I don’t know what it is, I mean, I played an old record of “Free To be You and Me” to them every day when they were babies. We only own non-competitive board games. Nobody wins. Nobody loses. It’s supposed to make kids happier, right? But they make a competition out of everything. Faster! More! Better! Who can stuff more raisins up their nose? BING! We have a winner. Who can whine the loudest? BING! We have a winner. And who cares about the stupid Snail Race game — WHO CAN THROW THEIR SNAIL THE FARTHEST?

Where did these kids come from, anyway? What did I do wroooong?!!
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This may not come as a surprise, but apparently my kid’s dad is a Neanderthal. Ba dum bum. Questionable personal habits aside, I’m talking about parenting style. His approach to our kids closely resembles a good deal of what Psychology Today calls “Playful Parenting,” the style used by hunter-gatherer societies. He has few rules for them, doesn’t tell them it’s time to go to bed, lets them do pretty much whatever they want whenever they want.

This drove me crazy.

I had my own ideas of parenting that involved nurturing, nutrition, protection from unsuitable things, and constant attention. Helicopter parent? *Cough* That may have been me (I prefer to say “Attachment Parent,” but whatever). I spent 24 hours a day with them; he spent, well, less. Way less.

We fought about this constantly. He wasn’t doing enough. He was too lackadaisical, didn’t pay attention. The kids could get hurt.

He didn’t do things My Way. The Right Way.

Sound familiar?
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Baby naming. It’s an art. What parent hasn’t spent hours poring over baby name books, making lists and refining them, trying to find The Perfect Name for upcoming little Junior or Juniorette, still just an oven-baking bun but nevertheless one with tiny fingers and toes that all need a name. The perfect name.

The other day I read Salon’s blog The Squirrel and was intrigued by his discussion of baby names. Apparently there are rules to naming babies. I knew this. Rules like:

• You can’t use the names of your former lovers, or even worse, your partner’s former lovers. Imagine the awkwardness. Just no.
• You can’t use a name that’s already been used by friends. This is also a no-brainer. After all, who wants to pepper the world with Jacobs or to doom one’s kid to being known as “Jacob M.”, or worse, “Jacob 3″? Plus there is the whole copycat thing. Even though you’ve been holding this name in reserve since you were 12, if a couple you know or someone at the office conceives first and uses Your Awesome Baby Name you are just SOL. You have to be unique.

But not too unique. That’s where the dance comes in. The perfect name. Not too long, not too short. Not too dorky, but just the right amount of dorky. Not too trendy, but cool enough.
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