Are you raising a Nellie Oleson?

To celebrate my two middle girls finishing the Little House on the Prairie book series, this last week we watched the DVDs from the first two seasons of the TV show, which, as it turns out, is quite a primer on how to or how not to raise a brat.

Harriet, the character Nellie's TV mother, indulged her, undermined her husband Nels' authority, and protected her daughter from the consequences of her abominable behavior. Harriet spoiled Nellie and her brother Willie with candy, pretty clothes, and basically whatever the two little wretches wanted, and turned them into the brats of Walnut Grove.

Harriet may be a fictional character, overplayed for dramatic effect, but her parenting style is too nonfiction to be all that funny.

Last week I spoke to a coaching buddy who, besides being a fantastic life coach, also happens to teach abnormal psychology at the college level. Before we could even get into the conversation, he started ranting about the kids in his courses. More and more he is seeing kids with entitlement attitudes, who treat him like he was their slave, who expect him to get them off the hook if they miss assignments and give them A's for half-completed work. When asked to write a 10-page paper, these kids consistently act shocked, like he is asking them to skip Christmas or scale Everest in their bare feet. "Who is raising these kids?" he asked.

My guess is parents like Nels and Harriet Oleson.

What are we thinking when we compensate for our children, when we save them from consequences, when we give them everything they want? And why am I writing about bratty kids on Thanksgiving?

Because thankfulness is the antidote for brattiness. The two can't coexist. When our children have entitlement attitudes, like Nellie Oleson's, they reek with ingratitude. Nothing is ever enough. Each gift, privilege, or outing they receive must be topped by the next. We give in to them to keep them quiet, to avoid a scene, and, in doing so, teach them that being a brat pays---big time.

Pa and Ma Ingalls raised their children differently. They lavished love, not love-substitutes like candy and gifts. They expected their children to do chores and, thus, learn the value of money. They offered encouragement instead of false praise. And in return, they got children who were sweet and, despite not having nearly as many nice things as Nellie Oleson had, far, far more grateful.

This Thanksgiving, I have just one question for you: Who is raising your kids?