The Parking Lot Rules

By Tom Sturges

Hard-won lessons from the front lines of fatherhood

It is harder to get a driver's license than to become a parent.

With a license, you at least get a pamphlet to leaf through before the big test. Not so with parenting. Fifteen years ago, when my son Thomas was born, I was thrust into a role for which I had no training, no experience, no expertise, no real knowledge on the subject, and nowhere to get it. There were plenty of books about getting pregnant, naming your zygote, what to eat during the fifth month, and the value of listening to Mozart during the third trimester. There were more depend-able guides about walking through Europe than there were about taking the right steps to be the kind of dad I wanted to be. And I did not want just to be a good dad: I wanted to be the greatest father that there had ever been. I wanted to be the John Wooden of parents. I wanted my children to be talking their whole lives about how great it was to have me for their dad.

But how do you teach a child to be kind and honest, insightful and inquisitive, athletic, curious, loving and gracious, thoughtful…? How do you give a child a huge heart, make him understand loyalty, and provide him with the courage it takes to be a good sport and a good brother and a good son? Where do you even find the book that teaches you how to teach him?

I started to come up with my own ideas and guidelines for raising Thomas. After many stops and starts, I began to write down the ideas that worked best. Ideas that did not work were plentiful, unfortunately. These included Darkroom Baths, Child Steers While Daddy Drives, and probably the worst idea ever, Downhill Tricycle Drag Races. Through this trial and error, I discovered that by loving my children, I could recover my own lost childhood. The better I was able to make their childhood, the better I started to feel about my own. This became particularly clear to me when Thomas was about to be 3 years, 2 months, and 1 week old, exactly the age I was when my father died, the day everything changed, the day I lost my way and did not even know it.

The basic premise of Parking Lot Rules is that it's impossible to show a child too much respect, but it's worth the effort to try. There is no one way to raise children. It requires flexibility and insight, and wisdom not yet gained, and the awareness of when to say just the right thing and when to say absolutely nothing. My hope is that parents will find in these rules a range of options to choose from when it comes to their most precious creations--their children--and the most gratifying experience they will ever know: parenting those children.