The pressure we place on our children to succeed may have negative repercussions, writes Ailish Connelly.
THE QUEST for perfection starts early, when the newly arrived little bundle of joy gets a 10 on the Apgar score. He or she wouldn't dare score anything less. Forty weeks in Mammy's super-achieving womb has taught baby a thing or two.
By age two, the toddler is busy with Suzuki cello classes and baby gym and swimming and by age six, he's heading for "overscheduled child" territory.
He is busy every day of the week, not including school, and while the activities may not be the mythical Mandarin and Urdu lessons you read about in New York and London it is, for some, a way of life here in Ireland.
Many children's extracurricular activities list would make a grown adult bawl.
But hey, if that's what is required to get an edge in our super-competitive society, if that's what it takes to be a highly accomplished, perfect child to perfect parents, then that's what has to be done. No pressure at all.
When does such a child get to goof off, to hang around, to lie on the grass and contemplate her navel? When does she get to just "be", to let her imagination run riot and hurtle off in many directions and let her innate creativity surface? Ah yes, we could fit that in on Friday, 5pm to 6pm, just before archery.
People tell you with pride how terrifically busy they are, busy chasing their tails doing important things. Our faceless technology, though it claims to unite us, allows us to keep up the facade, to keep others at a distance. Who can possibly be so busy they can't pick up the phone for five minutes and have a real chat with a friend, not send an exquisitely worded text or e-mail?
Are we so busy being perfect that we have lost sight of what's important? Constant busy-ness is equated with perfection and perfection is seen as highly desirable and even necessary for success. Trying to be just perfect is a way of safeguarding ourselves against the nasties in life, against our critics, against the disapproval of others and against rejection.
If you are perfect, why, you'll never get sick, be unemployed, be lonely or poor or in despair. Being perfect gives us a false sense that we can control our lives. Maybe we've forgotten that it is the bumps along the road that gives us character and gives our lives colour and nuance.
For many, though, the world must be damn well perfect, with toning palettes in pristine homes, houses that look as if no one actually sets foot in the place and dare there be smudge marks upon the patio door or plastic toys in shout-aloud colours strewn around, because the kids only play with beautiful, handhewn wooden ones.
These perfect creatures have perfect hair - bad hair days are for losers - and blinding white teeth, they earnestly scour the world for the perfect moment on the perfect holiday, they have flawless taste, source the perfect food, exercise themselves into perfect oblivion and naturally, have supremely perfect children.
Then they wonder why their nine-year-old daughter has issues with her body image, why she already has a skewed relationship with food or frets endlessly about being fat (which, given the climbing stats on obesity, is perhaps understandable).
There is a book out in the US called My Beautiful Mommy, a tome that comes in handy to explain to their four to eight-year- olds why Mommy is off to hospital to have her nose changed, her thighs sculpted or her breasts hiked up. (There has to be a pay- off after years of exemplary breastfeeding). We may scoff, but we can't be far behind.
Also in America, research shows that poor mental health among adolescents is attributed to cultures that value things more than relationships and performance over learning, a good reason maybe to lighten the load on the after-school activity front, to ease up on the not-so- subtle messages of perfection.
It's hardly shocking that kids are depressed and stressed. Anyone would be, with the frantic level of scheduling some must deal with.
It is not enough to have eight A1s in your Leaving Cert, but you must be model-gorgeous too. Middle-aged ladies no longer have the luxury of letting it all hang out, they must remain desirable eg, look young and thin, at all costs. Men must have magnificent abs and be up for it and successful and a "new man".
They may be brain-addled from sleep deprivation as they get up at 5am to hit the gym because even they are not immune to the pressure. It is time to call a halt.
This wave of perfection has upped the ante for all of us. A 90- year-old I know was worried about her expanding girth. Well, good on her; caring enough is probably what has her alive and in excellent health, but in her shoes, I'd line up the cream buns.
A word in your shell-like, God. There is a First Communion day coming up. The frock, the bouncy castle and the food is on order. The full-bodied Child of Prague statue is on standby in the garden. The thing is, I need the day to be simply perfect . . .