Outsourcing the Stuff of Life

I’m jogging down the street, hunched over, one hand resting on my daughter’s bicycle seat, the other outstretched, ready. I watch her wobble left and then right. She tumbles over to the side, pink Schwinn flopping on top of her little legs. She brushes gravel from her knees, looks up and pleads, “Can I try again, Mom?” I rub my aching back as I look into her proud, eager eyes. “Sure, why not?” Other than the color of the bike, it was pretty much the same with my son.

It’s hard to believe that scene was over a decade ago. While I certainly wanted my children to learn to ride a bike, it never felt like a goal that had to be achieved by some predetermined deadline. When they were ready, they’d learn. In the meantime, I’d offer support (and try not to complain too much about my backache.) It was just another one of those things that I did to help my kids on the road to independence, like encouraging them to sleep through the night, walk on their own, and get out of diapers. These are the moments that make us—the trial and error, the getting up after falling down. And these are the moments that make our relationships—offering words of encouragement, and yes, coping with frustration and pain.

I thought about my own experience helping my kids with bike riding as I read about a new and disturbing trend—paying someone to do things we used to do ourselves. It seems that there are people out there selling themselves as bicycle coaches who, for $60 an hour, will teach your child to ride a bike. The so-called expert will even teach your kid to roller blade, and will play catch with your child in your backyard to improve her baseball throwing skills.

If that isn’t shocking enough, there’s the personal shopper service. For an hourly fee, an expert will take your teenager clothes shopping. While having someone rummage through the racks at H&M with your teenage daughter may indeed eliminate fights, there is a price to be paid that goes beyond the consultant’s charge. Though we may not openly seek them, disagreements and struggles are what help build a relationship.

For the younger set, there are services such as “thumb-buster,” where experts work to eliminate thumb-sucking with techniques like tongue retraining. (I am not making this up.) And then there are the consultants who come into the home to potty train your child, using elaborate reward systems. I certainly sought help to get through some of my kids’ developmental milestones. I frequently called my mom and sisters, and flipped through my assortment of books by Dr. Spock, Penelope Leach, and Dr. Ferber (of ‘Ferberizing” your baby to sleep fame.) Other than the words of wisdom from my mother, the best advice I ever got was from Spock—“trust yourself; you know more than you think.”

The ‘going with gut’ philosophy that worked when my children were younger is equally important today. With a daughter now in the throws of the college application process, I have become painfully aware of a whole other set of experts just salivating at the chance to assist with things that used to be handled by students (with support from their parents)—researching colleges, completing applications and writing essays. The college admissions consultants offer packages ranging from $250 for an initial consult, to $1,500 and up for a comprehensive review and editing service. True, the college search and application process has become an onerous one. But still…

I’m not quite sure what the answer is. I only know that I will do my best to avoid being sucked up in it all—into the cut-throat drive to perfection, circumventing the equally important, albeit sometimes challenging process. Though tempted by the ‘flawless lure,’ I will try to stick to my guns. After all, perfection isn’t the goal, not for me, anyway. It’s the muddling through that really matters.

I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Skinned knees and all.

(This column was originally published on townonline.com September, 2005)