'Sopranos' Rewatch: Now That I'm a Mom, I Have Thoughts on Tony and Carmela's Parenting Skills

When I last watched The Sopranos — in real time, from its 1999 premiere to its 2007 finale — I was relatively young and absolutely childless. Returning to it recently for a nostalgia binge, this time as the experienced mom of a teenager, I have to say it hit differently.

Because instead of relating more to the teens and young characters who weren’t parents (like Christopher and Adriana), I found myself seeing it through the eyes of Carmela and yes, even Tony — who, I realize only now, are damn good parents, despite their major (murderous) faults.

Take Season 1, Episode 4, “Meadowlands.” In it, Tony is still trying to decide if he’ll commit to therapy. His son, Anthony, is getting into some trouble at school when his former friend starts picking on him and they have a fight in the hallway. Anthony’s shirt gets torn in the scuffle and he tries to throw it in the garbage at home, but Carmela finds it and tells him he owes her $40 for it  — impressive move, as it not only keeps him from being too spoiled as a rich kid, but teaches him the value of a dollar!

When Anthony’s frenemy challenges him to a follow-up duel in the schoolyard, he accepts, but only after letting him know that he owes him $40 for the torn shirt, which the boy scoffs at. And then, just like that, when Anthony shows up for the fight on the agreed-to time and place, the kid hands over $40 and walks away.

Anthony is confused — and when he tells his older sister Meadow about it, the wiser, more jaded high schooler tells him what she’s already figured out: Their dad is in the mafia, and everyone knows it, and the kid feared repercussions. She prints out a local mob family tree for Anthony and he pores over it, clearly shaken.

The episode ends at a funeral, and Anthony is clearly seeing his dad and the whole extended “family” through new eyes. He stares at Tony, looking wounded — not only is he upset that his father lied to him about his occupation (“waste management’”), something that could have long-lasting effects on Anthony’s ability to trust, but he’s seeing his dad for perhaps the first time as an actual person — and a flawed one at that.

When do we first begin to see our parents as people and not just caretakers whose life revolves around us and only us? It’s typically closer to early adulthood, so this moment for Anthony, just 13 in Season 1, had to have really rocked his world. But I, as a parent, understand that lying to your kids is sometimes necessary, particularly when it’s to either save them from anxiety or protect them from the burden of having to carry a secret. So, while I don’t exactly love Tony’s involvement in organized crime, I get — and respect — his decision to lie about it to Anthony.

Meadow, meanwhile, a little more tuned in than her brother, is a great example of how kids always know — if you’re sad, if you’re anxious, if you’re in trouble, if you’re heading for divorce. They’ve got a sixth sense about these things. They feel the household vibes. Which is why lying, while sometimes necessary for their own protection, isn’t usually the best way to go.

She’s about 16 by this point in the series, and Season 1 Episode 5, she and her dad are on a road trip together visiting colleges in Maine (Carmela is home with the flu). One afternoon, while they’re stuck together in the car, she seeks confirmation of what she’s already figured out, asking, “Are you in the mafia?”

At first, Tony feigns disgust and denies it. But when pressed, he admits that sometimes he takes part in some “illegal gambling and whatnot.”

Meadow seems satisfied. Or maybe just more interested in herself and her college visits (normal!) to push further. But what Tony does next is such a winning parenting move it stunned me.

He asks her, “How does that make you feel?” And she answers, telling him that while kids at school think it’s cool, “Sometimes I wish you were like other dads.” Still, she’s proud of him for finally telling her the truth.

Later, while they’re out to dinner, Tony checks in with his daughter once again about her feelings on his confession. “How’s that sitting with you?” he asks her. It’s so sweet and so thoughtful, and it opens communications between father and daughter even further, with her asking him about why he didn’t finish college. He explains that his parents were working class, but that they were supportive of him, and he admits that he always like learning about history.

Then, feeling open to a fault, Meadow confesses to him that she recently did speed to help get her through her homework and the SATs. At first, Tony explodes.

“If I thought it was going to be a lecture, I never would’ve told you,” she says. She explains that she felt moved to share because, “You were honest with me today.” And then, she reassures him. “I won’t do it again, it got too scary.”

“Right under my nose, you think you’d know,” Tony marvels. Still, he says, “I’m glad you told me.”

“I’m glad I did, too,” Meadow says. “I’m glad we have that type of relationship.”

It’s a rare and special moment between a teen girl and her dad, and it actually made me misty. (Never mind that Tony later leaves her at a bar where she gets drunk with some college girls while he goes off to track down a former associate that he wants to murder…)

Stay tuned for Meadow’s rejection of Tony’s mafia ways, and what it taught me about my own parenting.