Most praised generation?

If I had a subscription to the Wall Street Journal, I’d be reading this article on how the current college graduates are narcissistic and need to be praised a lot just to do basic stuff. Or at least I think that’s what the article said, based on this psych central post:

In an article in last Friday’s edition of the Wall Street Journal, there appeared an article from Jeffrey Zaslow entitled, “The Most-Praised Generation Goes to Work.” (You’ll have to take my word for it, as the WSJ is one of the old-media companies that still believes there’s little value to making its articles available to others online.) It observes the interesting phenomenon of “praise inflation,” where young adults are entering the workplace expecting kudos for doing not much more than showing up to work or doing their everyday job. The article quoted Jean Twenge’s research that showed the average college student in 2006 was 30% more narcissistic than the average student in 1982 (which made headlines a few months ago; there are some issues with this research, but I won’t go into them here).

Now I used to have a WSJ subscription, and I hated it, so my point isn’t that I’d like to be reading the whole article. I’m just wondering if anybody out there thinks this is true. I’m wondering if we’re overpraising our kids. Is this the most praised generation, and is that a bad thing?

But my second thought was that I’m only five years out of college (yes, it’s true). Am I of the most praised generation? Am I more narcissistic and needing of praise?

And is this something I should be aware of as a new parent?

Crazy extreme statement

I hate hate hate chewing gum. And if I could - here comes the extreme statement - I’d outlaw it. I would.

• I hate how people chewing gum look. They tend to chomp visibly with their mouths open.
• I hate the way it smells. Often you can smell gum five to ten feet away from whomever is chewing it.
• I hate the sound of chewing gum. Smack, crack, pop, smack, chomp, chomp, chomp. Ugh.
• I hate how chewing gum so often ends up in public spaces - under desks and tables, on sidewalks to step on or to turn black and nasty. I even got some in my hair once. Ew!
• And I hate how I so often find myself cleaning up chewing gum wrappers.

I know it’s a crazy extreme statement, but I’d outlaw it if I could. I really would.

It’s hump day because it’s in the middle?

This morning, on my way out the door, I wished E a happy hump day. I hadn’t been having a very good morning, and I was trying to make sure I left on a happy note. H was already plugged into his ipod, after playing with his guitar for a bit. So I turned to E:

Me: Have a good hump day!
E: What’s that?
Me: What? Hump day? It’s, um, Wednesday … and it’s hump day, because it’s in the middle?

Where I will be Friday night

90.3 The Rock welcomes the band CAKE, with PLAN A, and THE OLD CEREMONY to Knoxville for Volapalooza 2007 Friday, April 27th. The concert takes place at Fiji Island in Fraternity park on the UT campus, and is free and open to the public.

link

Duly noted

The one and only Nashville Knucklehead says:

I bought a CD called “Jazz for Kids” when she was two. We would listen to it in the car. The last song on it “Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong. Every time that song came on, I would reach back and we would hold hands. I didn’t play it for over a year, but when I put it back in, and that song came on, we automatically held hands again. Now, when we are getting near the end of a drive, she asks to hear “Wonderful World,” and we hold hands….

So to all new dads: Have a song or two. Start early. Stick with it. You may need it later.

Things you don’t think about

Last night, Katie made a magnificent supper. We had fresh, delicious corn on the cob and spinach manicotti.

With such a wonderful meal, I wanted real pepper - the kind that you grind for yourself. But I hadn’t counted on E being too small to work the pepper grinder. With curiosity, I watched him struggle with the pepper. But as soon as Katie noticed, she had me go get the usual pepper shaker.

The things you don’t think about when you’re still new to the whole “kids” thing.

Not being pregnant

It’s weird that I’ll never know what it feels like to be pregnant.

I know that sounds funny, but it’s true. At 22 weeks, Katie and I are giving a lot of attention to the baby. She is moving - or not moving. She is kicking. She is hiccuping.

And I am reading books about being the birth partner and helping Katie when the time finally comes.

I’m reading all about how to help her in the pain of childbirth. And I’m feeling the wonderful sensation of my daughter before she’s born. But I’ll never know what it feels like to have her inside, kicking or hiccuping. And I’ll never know what it feels like to go through the pain of childbirth.

It’s weird to be so present yet so distant, to see so much that I can’t experience.

Just a thought.

Sharp Contrast

This morning, Katie took our new van to work, and I drove my old Subaru. The old car/new car differences were in sharp contrast. The old car was dirty and loud. It rides a bit rough because it’s thirteen years old.

I hope I don’t have to drive it too many more years before I can get something new. Driving the new van yesterday really made me realize how old that car is.

Oh how my life has changed

I’m watching the Simpsons episode where the kids get taken away from their parents for neglect. A year ago, I thought this episode was funny (the foster parents are the Flanders). Now I think it’s scary and depressing.

Ok, it’s still mostly funny, but the beginning is scary and depressing.

I’m gonna sleep like a baby

Last night was traumatic. That’s an overstatement, sure, but buying a brand new car is a huge hassle. Not even counting the weeks of haggling, the very idea of spending that much money - or going into debt by that much - is nerve-wracking. And that’s on top of buying the house not nine months ago. And I was guzzling tea the whole evening, too.

My sleep last night was fitful at best. I dreamed that someone stole our car. I dreamed that it was replaced with a rather unimpressive Dodge Caravan we looked at Saturday. I dreamed that we were still shopping despite having bought the Honda. Eventually, I got out of bed to look out the window and verify its existence.

You know you didn’t sleep well when you have so many vivid dreams, and we crashed went to bed late last night as it was.

I am going to sleep like a baby tonight.

A sales tax holiday!

Is it just me, or is this weekend’s sales tax holiday a whole lotta noise for nothing?

We’ve got a state tax rate of about seven percent, right? and locally an additional two and a quarter?

Together, that makes slightly less than 10% percent. So the sales tax holiday is little more than a 10% off sale, state-wide but only on certain purchases.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve never considered a sale at 10% off to be worth making a fuss over.