I’ve mentioned before that my style of parenting is somewhere between helicopter and free-range. I call it Satellite Parenting, because if there’s one thing I like, it’s making up terms for concepts that probably already have terms for them.

I grew up pretty free range, but because of addiction and single, working parent necessity rather than anything like a choice on my parents’ part. I turned out fine. Sure, I got hit by a van while riding my bike on a highway once, and sure, I fell through the ice into the St. Lawrence River once, and sure I…hmmm….

Actually, I was pretty lucky to survive being a Free Range Kid.

When I was a kid I used to read those Select-Your-Own-Ending books (in which there was an adventure of your own that you would choose…am I being too subtle?). I loved them. They were always so weird. I’m a shark now? What the hell?

But parenting is its own adventure, and not one that ever really made it into that multiple-ending narrative format. Until now.

I present to you “Daventures in Parenting”, a Select-Your-Own-Ending story by me, Shawn Burns.

Enjoy. Beware of robots.

Ignoring my kids, just the right amount, might be paying off.

Of course, there are concerns about giving kids the attention they need and not setting them up to act out or blah blah blah.

But in my house, the attention kids need does not match up with the attention kids want. And I think this might be responsible for some changes I’ve noticed.

For instance, instead of leaping to their beck and call, I ask them to tell me what they want when they ask for me. This forces them to articulate a need, and, in the case of the older one, to justify my help. They have to think about what they want and what counts as a good reason to ask for my intervention. The result? They’ve started to ask for permission instead of assistance.

My daughter is now in charge of her own dessert.

We tend toward not using food as reward/punishment objects in our house, but we’re also a little miserly with the treats: The kids get some watered-down juice, if they want it, maybe once a day; they get ice cream sometimes at the park if the ice cream dude comes by and it’s after lunch already; and they have the Bucket Treats.

Bucket Treats started out as just laziness: after Halloween one year, the bright orange jack-o-lantern bucket full of candy was placed out of reach, up on top of the refrigerator, so that my 3-year old didn’t gorge herself on Nerds and Tootsie Pops and get high and taste numbers and pass out. We started doling items out of the Bucket every once in a while, Bucket Treats, and stretched that Halloween candy out over a couple of months.

There are 30 kids coming to my daughter’s birthday party this weekend. That seems … excessive. But there are factors at play here.

Although we’ve been through the party circuit before, this is the first year that it’s felt really political, exclusionary. Or at least that’s the worst way to interpret it.

For instance, there was a birthday party earlier this year for a kid in my daughter’s class. Of course the kid was talking about it. Of course the kid invited some other kids from the class. Of course my daughter wasn’t one of them. Of course she didn’t realize that.

Your kids talk to each other. They whisper. You don’t always know what they’re saying. Would you like to?

Well, you’ve come to the right place. After years of research, countless hours of listening to recordings from the hidden microphones in your house totally legitimate recording sources, I’m finally willing to share my results with you.

So, here are the Top 10 Secrets Your Kids Tell Each Other.

Well. Kindergarten application season has drawn to its inevitable, stressful close. For our family, at this time, in this situation, we were privileged enough to have school choices available: Our local public school, a local charter school next door, and a private school a short distance away.

Being completely ignorant of the school application process (I always just went to my local school; I doubt my parents had to do more than sign a sheet that said “Shawn is a kid in this town so he has to go to school here”), I had no idea what we were in for once Kindergarten Application season gave way to Kindergarten Application Results season.

Most people probably view the Girl Scouts as adorable little scamps, doing good deeds, learning about nature and citizenship and whatever the hell else they care about.

Many of you might have been in Girl Scouts, or have daughters who are in Girl Scouts. You probably love them.

You’re clearly insane.

So, despite being a Disney-phile, I have to tell you, dear readers, that I can’t stand The Little Mermaid.

My reasons are varied, and of course I will share them with you, but let me first share this particular point of pride: When my daughter met Ariel at Disneyland the exchange went like this:

Erin: “You needed to listen to your daddy.”

Ariel: “But he was trying to keep me from my one true love, Prince Eric.”

Erin: “Yeah, but you needed to listen to your daddy.”

So, why do I so dislike The Little Mermaid? Well, it’s probably because I’m a father.

My daughter had a problem: She had a brand new umbrella she wanted to play with and a scooter she wanted to ride. Both required the use of her hands, but she only has so many hands.

She asked for my help, but I don’t like to just do things for my kids: I want them to try something first.