The Parentelligensia

Most people with children are prone to moments of doubt about how good a job they're doing. They worry about seemingly minor details - should I have fed him something different for lunch? Why is she playing with these blocks instead of those ones? - and wonder, at every step, if they're doing the right thing for their child. These people are called "parents."

A few people with children, however, walk through parenting with the certitude of the righteous. They believe that not only are they doing what is right for their child, they know full well what is right for your child, too. These exemplary specimens of child-rearing brilliance are the "parentelligensia."

The parentelligensia have read every published word on parenting, from Dr. Spock to the latest celebrity mommy confessional, and don't hesitate to casually theory-drop what they've gleaned from the current issue of Parenting or Psychology Today. While there's certainly a great deal of merit in keeping up with parent-oriented periodicals, the parentelligensia have made it part of their life's work.

For most of us, it's enough to merely keep up with the Consumer Product Safety Commission's recall list or consult Consumer Reports before every major purchase. But not for the parentelligensia. They first check the various reports, then surreptitiously (or not) check your home for inferior or dangerous products the next time they drop by, delighting in the opportunity to enlighten you on the unsafe environment in which you are raising your little one.

Clearly, you are not as good a parent as they.

And while most parents are happy to indulge in an occasional spot of bragging at their child's accomplishments, the parentelligensia take it one step further, pointing out in various subtle and not-so-subtle ways that junior's athletic prowess or Ivy League scholarship is due in large part not to their child's hard work or constant practice but to superior parenting. My child did X, therefore I am a better parent than thou.

The true mark of the parentelligensia, however, isn't the obsessiveness of their reading or inability to separate their child's life from their own. Rather, it's their obliviousness to the idea that someone else with a contrary view might be right or - gasp! - that they themselves might be wrong. To hear it from them, there is one way and one way only to be a good parent. And that is the way of the parentelligensia.

The parentelligensia is filled with idiots. They're not idiots because they are stupid or are unwilling to work hard. They're idiots because they think they, and they alone, know how to raise a child "properly." They're the parents who tell your kid's teacher how her lessons should be planned, down to the bathroom breaks. They're the parents who tell your kid's coach how to maximize the potential of every player even though they themselves never played that particular sport. They're the parents who tell your kid directly that the way they do homework or treat their siblings is wrong, not because you said so, but because a magazine article/a book/their mothers said so.

The solution? For you the parent, it's simpler than you think, if you're willing to exercise a little patience: listen, nod, think about sex, wait for the conversation to end. Attempts at refutation will be useless... although, if you're in a snarky mood and quick on your feet, you can respond with some variation of, "Really? Because Howard Gardner - you know, the guy at Harvard who developed the whole multiple intelligences theory? - published a paper just last week that said the exact opposite of everything you just said."

[Note: I picked Howard Gardner because of the large number of schools that have adopted curricula based on multiple intelligences (or so they claim) and, since these eight intelligences collectively describe most human endeavors, you'll probably be covered for at least as long as it takes to get out of the conversation. And, I hear, he's a pretty cool guy.]

For your child, it's a little tougher, especially if they're young. Teenagers usually have the fortitude to either politely hear out an obnoxious adult or simply suggest the adult engage in an anatomically impossible sexual act before walking away. Young children, by which I mean pre-teen or younger, usually have more outward respect for adults and are more likely to believe what they hear. Self-extraction from such a conversation is more difficult for a third-grader than a high school sophomore.

Your child's response in this situation depends on the relationship he or she has built with you, the parent. If your child knows that you'll provide backup in the face of confrontation, and if you've repeatedly spoken to your child about how you want them handle a situation with an otherwise trustworthy adult, odds are good that your child will respond the way you want: ignoring the adult, running away, engaging in conversation (if and only if it's adult they know they can otherwise trust), but, most of all, telling you all about it first chance they get.

If, on the other hand, your child isn't certain that you'll be there for support, they'll respond in whatever way they think is best. And if your kid is eight years old, your idea of what's best probably doesn't match theirs.

Idiot-proofing your child in this case means talking over with him or her how to deal with adults who say things that contradict what you say. The particulars of this conversation should be specific to you and your child, based on your own family values. Whatever you say, though, it should include two things: a default response they can always fall back on - "Daddy said I have to do this or he'll get mad" or "you'll have to talk to Mom about that. I just want my allowance." - and the reassurance that you'll support whatever they do or say, even if it's not what you might want (after all, even the smartest kids forget their lines in a moment of confrontation).

The parentelligensia are convinced that they were put on this Earth for one reason: to share their brilliant parenting tips with the rest of us. They read books, magazines, blogs - perhaps even this one - and use that knowledge to inflate their already overblown sense of themselves, usually at your expense. Just remember that they can take from you only what you allow them. In their obliviousness, they might not even notice that they're getting nothing from you.

If self-awareness is the beginning of wisdom, the parentelligensia are idiots indeed.