Where Tiger and Free-Range Moms Agree

Fun fact: The second edition of my book, "Free-Range Kids," just came out and guess who wrote a blurb for the cover?

Amy Chua. Yes. The "Tiger Mom."

"Weirdly, I love this book!" she wrote. Weird indeed. When Chua's parenting book first came out, my inbox was full with folks practically shouting: "Did you hear about that new 'Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother' book? It's like the opposite of 'Free-Range Kids!'"

Except, in part, it wasn't.

"Free-Range Kids" contends that we don't need to helicopter so much. Our kids can make their own playdates, sandwiches and — most importantly — mistakes.

A kid who takes the wrong bus and then figures out the way back home is better off for it: She goofed, but it wasn't the end of the world, and she rose to the occasion. Now, she's ready for the next thing that looks a little daunting or goes awry.

Too often, today's kids never get that kind of challenge. We baby them out of fear that somehow they're less safe ("She can't take the bus by herself; she could be abducted!") and less competent ("He can never figure out anything to do - that's why I have to play with him!") than we were.

That is not a problem Chua seems to have.

Like her approach or not, she fully believes in her kids. And when I finally got around to reading her book — my God, it is so funny and sly! — I cheered for her kids as they rose to the occasion. For instance, when her younger daughter bit, hit and cried that she couldn't play a particularly tough piano piece, Chua forced her to practice till she got it right. And afterward — since no one called the cops — far from being upset with her mom, the girl was thrilled with her newfound competence. The next thing you know, she's cuddly as a (non-biting) puppy because she was so happy and so glad her mom got her to that point.

"Free-Range Kids" doesn't go that same route — to put it mildly — but those of us trying to hover a little less are aiming for the same goal: We want our kids to experience the thrill of doing something they find fulfilling. The big difference, of course, is that Chua sat on top of her daughter for hours and hours while Free-Rangers believe in hours and hours of kids doing stuff on their own — even stuff that will never score them a recital at Carnegie Hall. Even stuff that might seem a little odd or slightly scary.

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To us, a snow fort is as valuable as a Chopin sonata. Shopping solo for supper equals an A in AP bio.

Whether or not Free-Range kids will end up as prodigies (wait — does anyone end UP a prodigy?), we hope they'll end up motivated and self-reliant: traits that will serve them well, even in the competitive worlds of school and work. We know that kids with straight A's will have a leg up.

But Stuart Brown, the granddaddy of research on play, says that when NASA and the Jet Propulsion Lab consider hiring someone, they look for sparkling grades, yes.

But they also look for something less common: time spent, as kids, just tinkering. They want to see curiosity and independence.

Whether kids rise to the demands of a "Tiger Mom" or the demands of a Free-Ranger who says: "Figure out what you love, and I'll stand back as you pursue it," the point is kids rise when we believe in them.

That belief is the wind beneath their wings.