Letting go of Lipschitz guilt: Rugrats and parenting experts
Yes, okay, sure, screen time is discouraged for children younger than 2 years old... but sometimes you just need a moment to breathe or file a baby's nails. While the saintly Ms. Rachel is often the distraction of choice in our house, my husband and I recently found that old 15-minute episodes of the 1990's series Rugrats are also a fun option. Watching one episode with us a few weeks ago, our son giggled at the bright colors and baby-view camera angles, and we also chuckled at how nostalgic and nineties the show is. But also how it feels weirdly relatable in a new way.
For those who haven't seen it, Rugrats is an American animated television show that originally aired on Nickelodeon from 1991 to 2004. The show features the adventures of a group of babies and toddlers, including Tommy, Chuckie, Phil, Lil, and Angelica, as they navigate the world around them. It spawned several movies and spin-off series (including one where the titular babies are featured as preteens), cementing its place as a beloved classic of children's television.
If you were a child when you first watched this show, there's something especially surreal about watching Rugrats as an adult. I especially noticed that what feels most amusing and understandable about the show changes significantly. As a child, I remember loving the imagination of the show, the cleverness and kindness of the baby characters, as well as the malapropisms used by the children (though I didn't know the term at the time; I just remember laughing when Tommy called a "booster shot" a "rooster shot"). As an adult, however, what I find so amusing is mostly the (often very relatable) interactions between the adults.
Tommy's parents, Dee-Dee and Stu, are frequently featured having discussions about parenting choices, both with each other and with their friends, Charles and Betty. Upon my adult re-watch, I found myself recognizing the reality in scenes such as when Dee-Dee and Stu agonize over when to start weaning Tommy or when Dee-Dee and Betty have disagreements over the importance of milestones. But what really felt eerily familiar right now was the constant referencing and fretting over Dr. Lipschitz.
Dr. Lipschitz is a fictional child development expert and author who is frequently mentioned throughout the series. In Rugrats, the parents often refer to the advice of Dr. Lipschitz's books on child-rearing and development. Dee-Dee and Charles are especially strict followers of Dr. Lipschitz's advice, citing his books or audio series when making nearly any parenting decision.
This felt almost uncanny watching today as an online, elder-Millennial parent. While Lipschitz is likely based on classic parenting experts like Dr. Spock or the Sears, it's easy to think of currently cited experts like Emily Oster or Becky Kennedy. If Rugrats had been set in the 2020s instead of the 1990s, it's so easy to imagine Dee-Dee and Charles referencing Substacks, Instagram accounts, and podcasts instead of audiotapes and book series. While much has changed since the 1990s, the parental search for expertise has remained very much the same.
There are, of course, various reasons parents might search for parenting techniques and advice. So many of us want to be good parents and provide the best possible upbringing for our children. Seeking advice from people we view as more qualified than ourselves can help (we at least assume) achieve this goal. For those of us who are new parents or parents with limited experience, seeking advice can provide valuable guidance and support, and it can certainly reduce some anxiety if it feels like there are "answers" someone has that we don't. Children can have challenging behaviors, and especially new parents may struggle to understand how to address them. With generational advice changing, seeking advice from experts is something decades of modern Western parents have done.
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Dee-Dee pouring over books in Rugrats |
In some cases, learning from parenting experts can help decrease parental stress; after all, if you had a question or fear and someone with cited expertise offers an answer, then it makes sense that the stress of the unknown is at least somewhat eliminated. But advice from parenting experts can also add stress, even if it's unintentional. I'm currently in an online parenting book club, and we've made our way through a few 'Gentle Parenting' books by now. Many of these books discuss how parenting, giving discipline and consequences, and choosing reactions to misbehavior all help shape a child's neural pathways. While many of the books try to reassure parents that no one is perfect, there's a paradoxical insistence that gentle responses aren't just ideal but absolutely key to shaping a well-adjusted human being. Horror stories of how timeouts and reward charts in childhood led to anxiety and self-esteem issues in adulthood pepper these parenting books. The implication of the highest of stakes can sometimes cause just as much anxiety as the expertise can relieve.
Which might be why I found myself cracking up during moments in the Rugrats episode "A Visit from Lipschitz." In the episode, Dee-Dee goes to a Lipschitz book signing and, star struck, invites the parenting guru over for dinner with her family and friends. She and Charles both hang into Lipschitz's every word, even as Stu and his father are both a bit skeptical.
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Dr. Lipschitz showing off his book in Rugrats |
While at Dee-Dee and Stu's home, Lipschitz is quick to start giving parenting advice. He gasps in horror as he sees Tommy and Chuckie looking at a pop-up book, noting:
"Pop-up books encourage delusional behavior."
At dinner, he reminds Charles as the young father is moving to put a bib on his son Chuckie:
"Tying a bib is a highly symbolic act. If you tie it too tightly, you deny the child emotional freedom. But tie it too loose, and you deny the child the firmness of your love. Either way, the damage could be irreparable."
The audience is encouraged to laugh at this expert advice, both in its absurdity and also its familiarity. It often feels in these expert parenting books, Instagram accounts, and podcasts that the smallest choice wrongly made ("Don't give your child a spoonful of applesauce. It's important they have the agency to feed themselves" ; "Don't say 'don't' or 'no' to your child. It's important they feel respected" ; "Don't send a child away to play while you do dishes. You're teaching them to appreciate frivolity over work" etc.) could do damage that is, indeed, irreparable.
By laughing at it, though, it can help us recognize both the pressure and it's potential absurdity. It can help us let go of that guilt and remember that sometimes the day-to-day things really aren't that meaningful in isolation. That, if you overall give your child love and support, it's okay sometimes to not think that hard about fastening a bib... or maybe even turning on a little bit of television at the end of a long day.
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