DISCLAIMER: I am a parent, the mother of a very rambunctious, albeit delightful, boy who is now, if you're keeping up, off to college. I am a sibling, one of 6 girls and 5 boys. I'm one of the older daughters, meaning lots of childcare. I have many nieces and nephews. My beautiful stepdaughter has a glorious 1-year old. Our house is often filled with the chaos and laughter of children and nothing makes me happier. The point is: I'm not a childless, agoraphobic curmudgeon living alone with the lights off on Halloween who'd rather have a stun fence than a gaggle of lemonade hawking yappers on my front lawn. That ain't me. I love kids.
But I don't love your kid.
You know the one.
That kid who's allowed to chase his brother around the grocery store while screaming bloody murder and knocking over chip racks and those geriatric gals with the walkers.
That kid who's having a prolonged hissy fit in a fine dining establishment, ignored by parents who believe she needs to "work it out herself" rather than intervene for the sake of ambiance, fellow diners and the sanity of the wait staff.
That kid who's drawing magic marker flowers on unsold magazine covers at the local bookstore while her mom blissfully sips chai and mews about "what an artist she is!"
That kid who's learned that caterwauling in public is a sure road to success because Mom and Dad have cow-towed for years, confirming that the screaming wheel gets the grease.
That kid who gleefully dances in bare feet atop the lobby coffee table of a chi-chi country club while her parents assault passersby with those "Isn't she cute?" grins. No, she isn't. Get her off the table and into some shoes.
That kid who's taking acting, karate, French, yoga, and origami classes and never fails to mention how he's a "black belt" despite the fact that he's had two classes. Quit nodding at him, Dad; you're encouraging delusion.
That kid who "just has" to interrupt my deeply personal conversation with his mother to perform his talent show song, compelling said mother to bray "isn't he a little star?" No, he's not and I was crying at the time.
That kid who is the white-hot flaming center of every conversation with parents who extol each talent, skill, accomplishment, latest funny thing, every breath they take as if history is being made. He/she's swell, but how about we refocus on the visiting lecturer we invited to this shindig?
I could go on but you know this kid. You don't love him or her any more than I do. But we're surrounded by these children because we're surrounded by the parents raising them. And it doesn't take much reading between the lines to realize the culprits here aren't the kids, but the parents who've lost perspective. Who can't grasp that their beloveds are less beloved by the world at large. Who've prioritized their delight, fascination, lack of ideas or sense of entitlement above basic decorum, good manners, public empathy and the tolerance of strangers.
But there is another side to this. The parents who are aware, who do make the effort, but who discover that even with the best of intentions things can go awry and that's when the judgmental buzz saw of overly intolerant folk wreaks havoc.
My son was three, entering Tantrum World with a stunning vigor; the setting was a grocery store. I needed three things -- bread, soup, and tomatoes. He needed one -- a cookie. No cookie? Madness. I was desperate to grab my three things and get this living meltdown quickly out the door but before I could, a 30-something man came within inches and literally screamed in my face, "You are a horrible mother! This kid is going to walk all over you and you have no clue. Just tell him to SHUT UP!!"...to which another passing man archly chanted, "Thank you!" This guy continued his harangue loudly enough to gather a crowd until I finally threatened to call security. Awful experience and not one I wanted to repeat. But I did. A few weeks later, at our neighborhood grocery store this time; a similar inciting incident but luckily I was at checkout and escape was swift. But I'd been so shamed by Horrible Shopper Guy that I called the shop owner to apologize. And this is what he said: "You don't ever have to apologize for that boy! I raised five sons and I know how it goes. You did just fine and, trust me, he'll grow out of it." He did and I fell in love with my old local shopkeeper that day.
And, oh yes... kids on planes. We've all experienced the screamers running up and down the aisles for recreation, allowed by parents who've run out of ideas (bad idea, parents). But I've heard people express such disdain of children on planes that they want "no-children" flights similar to no-smoking zones. I get it. But sometimes a parent can do everything right and the situation still goes viral. Here's my son's first plane ride: 13 months old, slept calmly most of the trip, but when the pilot loudly announced our descent, it startled him awake and he screamed from then until landing. I wanted to hold him but the attendant insisted he stay strapped in his seat so all I could do was caress his sweaty little head and feel like a peace murderer. The man behind me repeatedly kicked the back of my seat and made loud comments about "obnoxious kids," but as we deplaned several people glanced my way with empathetic smiles. Clearly they either had kids or at least understood the situation. I was deeply grateful for their empathy. The Kicking Man? May he fall in love with a woman with ten children.
Both sides of this Great Debate have a role to play. Kid Curmudgeons, lighten up. Discern each situation individually (and get ear plugs!). Even the best-behaved child and the most vigilant parent can occasionally hit a snag; your judgment and intolerance don't help. And parents, it's about finding the right balance and that means taking into account not just your family -- including that little darling emptying salt & pepper shakers on the table -- but the people all around you as well. Discipline and artfully placed boundaries go a long way toward lovability. Which is the goal, after all.
Because I still don't love your kid...but I'd like to.
To Lane Aldridge for inspiring the post.
Follow Lorraine Devon Wilke on Twitter: www.twitter.com/LorraineDWilke
Then the baby started wailing, Mom was beet red and trying to quiet him while gathering up the children's coats to make a hasty exit. The Priest stopped his sermon abruptly. Over the cries of the baby, he told us about how Jesus loved children, how he was glad our church did not have a nursery because children should be welcomed, and Christianity was not just for adults. Christianity was not just for anyone, child or adult, who is perfectly behaved. A true Christian demonstrates their faith by not expecting perfection from anyone of any age.
The Grandmother in the pew ahead reached back and took the baby, who immediately quieted. A high school boy in the pew behind picked up the two year old and put him on his lap. A pack of tic tacs was passed down two rows to the children. All was quiet and content, and the Priest went back to his original sermon.
i too had little tolerance for fit throwing kids in public, until i had twin special needs kids. then i started trying to understand why kids are freaking out. sure, A LOT of them are spoiled brats who act just the same or worse at home but many--and most i'd say-are hungry or tired. and then there are kids like mine, who just have a harder time away from home. i think we just spend an awful lot of time judging other people without really knowing what's going on.
How much of this results from being self absorbed and perceiving the rest of us obstacles and liabilities? Would those folks really be better off alone? How much of this is the need to be accepted in a society that rewards aggression and rudeness with celebrity status?
You have to wonder what is next in the evolution of this society's normal human interaction. We have been blessed in so many ways. Sometime it seems we are determined not recognize each other as the best things in life.
Everyone is entitled to their opinion; mine is that if you can't keep your fangs hidden, you can bite my shady spot.
What people think of a 15 week old's behaviour says a lot more about them than it does the 15 week old child. Do they expect an infant to behave like an adult? Would we want them to behave like adults?
The kids liked to play hide and seek in the store. They hid. I had to find them. I restricted them to the aisles where they couldn't do any damage - toilet paper, paper towels, etc. They would rearrange the displays to make a hidden cavity behind the product display. They were very good at it too. More than once I watched people select product in front of them without every noticing them further behind the product. After I found them they had to reassemble everything neatly.
Children will behave as badly as they are allowed to....end of story.
I never allowed my children to have tantrums. I am no tiger-mom, but kids will learn "that look" in your eye pretty fast if you nip bad behavior in the bud. My sons are now emotionally healthy, successful and mature young men, and despite unwavering and firm rules, we are all also best friends. You can have both if you just make solid consistent rules and do not waffle.
Parents are just too lame to say "no" these days......probably as a self-serving need to not look "mean", or just a lack of a spine.
Give your children well-defined limits and they will feel safer and will be less likely to act up. They NEED reliable discipline to feel safe. The boundaries you set will help them learn to set their own one day. Discipline is a gift and a safety net to kids and many parents do not get that.
The parents who giggle at their toddler screaming in the restaurant are the worst.....rewarding bad behavior has become easier than being the "bad"cop", sadly. Lame.
I always tried to go shopping without my twins, but occasionally I had to bring them along. I remember one time when they just turned two and they had just quit using their pacifiers to go to sleep. Thus, they were very cranky. They were not listening at all at the store and I had tears welling up in my eyes from frustration. Then I noticed an older lady staring at me. Prepared to get an earful about my poorly behaved children, I apologized for their behavior and explained that they hadn't been sleeping because I took their pacifiers. The lady smiled, put her arm around me and said, "Honey, it's OK. I just quit smoking, so I know what they are going through." I wish more people could be as understanding as this lady who turned a possibly ugly situation into a positive one.