Every morning, my oldest daughter asks me what she’s doing after school. Her question is warranted because she is currently signed up for an after-school activity Monday through Thursday. On Tuesday, I responded “dance” because that is the day she takes two back-to-back hip-hop classes.
She smiled at me and pointed out that she never has time for playdates—which, to her, don’t qualify as traditional after-school activities, but to her working mother, they certainly do. She wasn’t upset when she said that, though. She seemed to delight in the fact that she was the busiest 7-year-old she knew.
A few hours later, my lovely coworker Jenni Fink, she of Mildly Maternal fame, started chatting with me about what else? We were discussing the maximum acceptable size of the “boo baskets” we’re already seeing around—a classic case of American extra-ism, as I had noted—when Jenni mentioned something she’d seen on Instagram about parents being burned out from trying to make every day extra special for their children. Another case of American extra-ism.
"Meanwhile, I spent my childhood running errands with my mom and had a great time," Jenni said to me. And, of course, the idea for this week’s parenting piece arrived because it has been very clear to me—and even clearer to my bank account—that America has a problem with after-schools. It got me thinking, how many after-schools are too many after-schools?
I can speak for myself when I tell you why my daughters are currently in two basketball classes, two dance classes, Hebrew school and tennis, and why I would love to have them start piano, but alas, there are only seven days in a week. I want them to be well-rounded, sure, but I also want them to be able to make educated choices when they’re teenagers about what actually interests them, and I want to provide them with as much fodder as possible to make those decisions once the teenage years hit. You don’t know you hate tennis until you’ve played tennis, right?
You don’t know you love piano until somebody makes you sit at one. You don’t know you have absolutely no interest in basketball until your parents have already paid for the semester. If I don’t force them to try everything now, how can I expect them to try things when they’re too busy thinking of boys or friends' drama?
Extract — continue reading at the source.
