Why Young People Suck and Old People Rule

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I don't know gotta watch that cat thing. When my sister was an infant my mom would leave her in her crib and she would suddenly freak out. My mom would rush back to see what was going on but she was always fine when she got there. Finally once during one of those instances she just peaked around the corner to find our cat lying on top of my sister nibbling on her nose.


Now that I think about it maybe that is why my sister is so messed up. :confused:
Actually your mom misread the situation. Your sister was, even as a baby, huffing kittens.

Sorry to break it to you so roughly, but there it is.
 
Except for that all those awesome people born before 1970 are the parents that raised these current garbage generations, pursue the lawsuits for bumps and scrapes and in general made the world the current place it is.

In essence, fuck the baby boomers (I love you mom!).
Pretty much this. My grandpa had a similar mentality as Gas's OP, except his cutoff year is 1940.
 
D

Disconnected

Except for that all those awesome people born before 1970 are the parents that raised these current garbage generations, pursue the lawsuits for bumps and scrapes and in general made the world the current place it is.

In essence, fuck the baby boomers (I love you mom!).
Pretty much this. My grandpa had a similar mentality as Gas's OP, except his cutoff year is 1940.[/QUOTE]

i thought i said this. fucking kids never listen to their elders.
 
I honestly feel like I'm at some sort of cusp. I've seen the big transition from analog to digital and been alive long enough to have strong roots in both eras. I had relative freedom to indulge in dangerous activities*, garbage pick the neighborhood for all manner of MacGyver-esque experimentation. I've blown a lot of fuses (physical and metaphorical). I've had some seriously lucky incidents (more of the 'didn't realize how dangerous that really was' than 'OMG did you see that?' type) and caused a certain amount of property damage (plaster will clog a vacuum bag when you try to hide the evidence, did you know that?), and you know what?

I learned. I learned a lot.

Most importantly, I gained XP at a rate quick enough to keep myself relatively unharmed (nothing more than the occasional 2nd degree burn or minor scar) by my subsequent adventures. My physical activity kept my body healthy, my experiments kept my mind healthy, and my caution and sense worked for both. IF kids aren't allowed a little leeway to kill rats in those early uncomfortable parts of Life THEN they will be unprepared for the boss battles which come later. I fully realize that my situation was atypical, but it allowed me to squeeze in a lot of useful self-training before that entire "growing up" thing got Nerf'd.

I have a son, now. He will be monitored, yes. But he will also be empowered, educated and encouraged. As a result, he will have an [STRIKE]unfair[/STRIKE] advantage over his peers.

I can hardly wait.

--Patrick
*Ask me about my many teenage adventures involving carbide, mercury, nitric/hydrochloric/sulfuric acids, various hydrocarbons, accelerants, fireworks, thermite, electric mains, flyback transformers, living in a tent in Winter, etc...and this was all *before* high school.
 
M

makare

I don't think there is a coddling problem in Sodak. Not in general anyway. I guess it might be a localized thing.
 
Do you realize that those kids raised in the freedom and happiness of the 70's are the parents of today? You said yourself that the new generations suck... guess what, they are being brought up by the happy children of the 70's. Those kids are the overprotective, whining parents of today*. Guess they didn't turn out all that marvelous, after all...




*I'm not saying all parents are like that, don't jump and aim for my throat.
 
Heck my kid (he's 5) has gotten kicked on the chin and hit with a stick at school (same kid different days) I had enough I told him (my kid) that if it happens again to start punching the other kid in the face, and I told his teacher that I told him that. I made sure to let him know that if he didn't start the fight that he wouldn't be in trouble at home even though he would get in trouble at school (in all honesty I'd probably take him to chuck e cheese for standing up for himself), so it's not all a bygone era
 

North_Ranger

Staff member
I'm sick and tired of my parents telling me that things aren't "safe" my kid.
This.

It's a god damn swing set, not a torture device!
I'll have to work on this... but it's mostly because the kids at school pretty much tried to break their swings in the process ;)

The cat is not going to smother him in his sleep.
Uhhh... Can't really verify this, Sin ol' gal. My mother, bless her heart, is quite afraid of animals, and one summer day when I was still a baby, she let me sleep outside in the stroller, outside the kitchen window where she could see me. Now, I have no recollections of this (I was about 3-4 months old), but mom tells she saw one of the neighbourhood cats lurking about. Afraid of animals as she is, she came outside and took me inside, leaving the stroller on the yard.

An hour later she looks outside, and sees that same cat lying in the stroller, right where my plump little baby face would have been. She panics and dad goes out, picks up the cat and gives him two sharp whacks on the hind-quarters with two-by-four before letting the hissing and spitting thing go.

He is not going to be harmed by seeing his father naked.
This I can vouch for. I grew up seeing both my parents naked (large bathroom + sauna once a week), and I turned out okay :D

It's enough to drive a person batty.
I'm sure it is. Hopefully, if I ever have the privilege of being a father, I remember not to take leave of my senses.
 
A cat in the crib is not there to smother the baby, it is there to investigate the new human and possibly urinate in the crib to let the new human know that it is encroaching on it's territory.
 
I've found that there are a variety of things, but some of those that I noticed are:
- warmth
- smell of milk (on baby and baby's clothes, crib, stroller - everywhere you've fed the baby)
- The spaces made for babies are just the right size for cats to curl up and sleep, and generally warmly padded
- It appears that cats notice the lack of attention, and so hang out where things (ie, baby) get attention (don't know if cats feel jealousy, but the appearance of jealousy is there)
- Generally cats I've had like to be where people are - they are very social. Babies sleep a lot, and cats sleep a lot, so part of it may be sleeping with another creature that is warm and sleeps when the other humans don't.

But a newborn can't breathe with the weight or a cat on their chest, and doesn't have the strength to turn over, move the cat, etc if the cat gets in the way of the infant's face. So for the first few weeks we train the cat that the baby sleeping areas are off limits, and when the baby is not sleeping he is always within sight of an adult, so we don't worry about it otherwise. Now that our youngest is nearly 2, he tackles the cat, etc and he can handle the cat, but, of course, the cat is still trained not to enter the sleeping areas, even though we'd be ok with it now.

But then, we have an awesome cat, so, you know, my advice may not apply to every other cat situation.

I wouldn't allow a stray near my baby for the simple reason that I don't know what disease and/or bugs the thing may transfer, and even a small scratch can turn into a major infection depending on what the cat has been tracking through recently.
 
I should be mreo clear. For the first, oh hour months or so of life Jet slept in the room with us and the cat wasn't allowed in.

After that Jet started sleeping in his own room and I keep his door closed. The cat doesn't enter the room with out me being there.

We're out of the danger zone now anyways. Jet can now wrestle the cat and the cat will take off once he knows what's coming.
 
M

makare

I wasn't trying to say that cat's are out to get anyone or anything (they are though seriously)

I just thought it was a riot that ours was trying to eat my sisters nose.
 
My wife seems to be distressingly like OP's descriptions. Of course, that might just be because she's still adapting to how tough kids really are, but she's already trying to get me to promise that if anything even HINTS at being dangerous for Rhiannon, we'll both make sure and protect her from it.

However, she was raised old-school, was something of a tomboy, and is generally a GRITS, so I have a feeling that she'll grow out of that stage, about the time Rhiannon starts running into walls, falling over and laughing. Sorta like her daddy did, back in the day. *grins*
 
I've found kids to handle bumps and bruises better when the reaction to them hurting themselves when they're not really hurt is to laugh and joke with them instead of gasping in horror, rushing over and crying "Are you okay? Oh my poor baby!"
 

GasBandit

Staff member
Oh, full disclosure, I guess... I should mention that when I was 4 I had my leg torn open by a swingset chain when I jumped off of it. Had to go the to hospital for stitches. I still have the scar on the back of my thigh to this day.
 

North_Ranger

Staff member
Oh, full disclosure, I guess... I should mention that when I was 4 I had my leg torn open by a swingset chain when I jumped off of it. Had to go the to hospital for stitches. I still have the scar on the back of my thigh to this day.
But you'll of course tell people who ask about it that you got it while wrestling with a grizzly bear buck-naked and smeared with honey, with one hand tied behind your back uphill in the middle of the winter.
 
I've found kids to handle bumps and bruises better when the reaction to them hurting themselves when they're not really hurt is to laugh and joke with them instead of gasping in horror, rushing over and crying "Are you okay? Oh my poor baby!"
When I was a kid, any sort of injury was handled by my dad telling me that I was ok. Not asking, just straight out telling me.

Fall down the stairs? He'd pick me up by the arm, say "You're ok," and then drop me back on the floor. Being the impressionable kid I was, I just believed him.
 
I've found kids to handle bumps and bruises better when the reaction to them hurting themselves when they're not really hurt is to laugh and joke with them instead of gasping in horror, rushing over and crying "Are you okay? Oh my poor baby!"
When I was a kid, any sort of injury was handled by my dad telling me that I was ok. Not asking, just straight out telling me.

Fall down the stairs? He'd pick me up by the arm, say "You're ok," and then drop me back on the floor. Being the impressionable kid I was, I just believed him.[/QUOTE]

I saw my nephew (about 3) fall on his bare knees on the sidewalk. He looked up with a little worry in his eyes, to see if it was OK to cry. Instead I told him not to worry, he did not damage the sidewalk at all. He laughed, took of running, and did it again on purpose. And he laughed some more.

My brother was both glad and angry with me at the same time.
 

GasBandit

Staff member
Oh, full disclosure, I guess... I should mention that when I was 4 I had my leg torn open by a swingset chain when I jumped off of it. Had to go the to hospital for stitches. I still have the scar on the back of my thigh to this day.
But you'll of course tell people who ask about it that you got it while wrestling with a grizzly bear buck-naked and smeared with honey, with one hand tied behind your back uphill in the middle of the winter.[/QUOTE]

Actually, telling them it was ripped open by a swingset chain when I jumped off usually makes them cringe pretty dang well.
 
When I was 7 or 8 my little brother and I were jumping off the couch. We'd just played with Hot Wheels a little while before so they were scattered on the rug. I mistimed a jump and my bare knee landed right on one of the hot rods (with the engine sticking out of the hood). It ripped through all the skin and I could see the cartilage underneath. You know what I did? I walked right to the neighbor's house because I knew my Mom was there. I barely made a sound the entire time, even though blood was dripping down my leg. I didn't start screaming until she started applying peroxide.
 
When I was six I broke my arm badly. As in Tim Krumrie broken. I just walked up to my Mom and told her that my arm hurt. She just said "I imagine it does. Well no sense crying about it, lets go get it fixed."
 
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