02/11/2001

By / The Dallas Morning News

OK, parents, let's practice it together.

Put that tongue up against the roof of your mouth, just behind the teeth.

It's the position speech pathologists call "lingual alveolar." But you probably knew that.

Now, get a good, strong vibration going through those nasal cavities. "N-n-n-n-n...."

Great! Now round it out with a big old "O" sound. "O-o-o-o-o...."

OK, let's put them together: "N-n-n-o-o-o." A few more, crisply: "N-n-o. No. No!"

Excellent. Now answer me this: Why is that little word so easy to pronounce – and so hard to say?

Especially when it comes to our kids?

I'm still catching heck from colleagues over a recent, blasphemous column in praise of editors. Actually it wasn't just editors, but all those with the important, thankless job of saying no.

But the overwhelming response outside the newsroom was: "Why didn't you mention parents? They're the ones who have forgotten how to say no."

Well, it's no fun to step on your own toes. But here goes. ...

Parent pain and guilt

When I was a kid, I thought the primary joy of parenthood must be saying no. I heard it that often.

But then I became a parent and discovered just how painful it is to say no to your precious children. When they're happy, we're happy. And when they're sad, we're devastated.

I'll tell you, it's downright diabolical – that look of hurt and betrayal that kids can muster when you have denied them something.

But the evidence is all around us that our children are suffering from a terrible deficiency of vitamins N and O.

Those are the character-building vitamins.

Even some of our kids are starting to see the problem. I was talking to a young man recently who had a terribly stormy adolescence. And he surprised me by saying that he didn't hear no enough at home.

"I'm a poster child for permissive parenting," he said.

Out of the mouths of babes. Heavily tattooed babes, in this case.

Moms' tough love

Let me tell you about some women who are trying to reclaim the word "no" in their families.

The group consists of about a dozen Lake Highlands-area mothers. And they proudly call themselves "The Mean Moms Club."

They get together about once a month to share stories and discuss proper limits for their kids. And here's the best part: They award a "meanest mom" crown each time to the mother with the best story of standing up to her child.

I gushed my admiration for the club to founder Leigh Ann Hicks. "Well, our kids hate it!" she laughed.

Roddy Elliott currently holds the crown – a feathered tiara, actually. And I'd say she deserves it.

"We had bought a Jet Ski for our son. It was going to be a present," she said. "But he did something really disrespectful about that time, so we just took it back – returned it to the store."

The winner!

Deborah Bowman said the gatherings give her courage. "Kids have a way of making you think you're the only one trying to enforce these rules. It's wonderful to know you're not," she said.

"My son says it's just a big gossip group," Leigh Ann said. "But it has really helped us. We trade information. Word gets out about homes with lax rules. And we learn a lot from the moms with girls. They talk more than the boys do."

I hereby propose that we create "Mean Mom" clubs across the land. And maybe some "Bad Dad" chapters, too.

The official club motto: "No."

Steve Blow can be reached at 214-977-8374 or .

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