Musings on Playground Judgement

The way I see it, most of us parents out there fall into three categories when it comes to supervising our kids on the playground.  We can be 1) overprotective, 2) over permissive, 3) somewhere in between.  And, just as the kids are quick to size up potential playmates, parents are quick to size up each other on the playground.  He’s totally fixated on his phone and not even watching his kid who’s throwing rocks, She’s hovering over her child like a hawk and won’t even let her play on the structure...

Photo: Roughcollie

I am an “in between” parent (or at least I think I am).   Many of our park excursions with the overprotective parent result in my child either somehow making the other child cry (usually by accident), or teaching them some undesirable behavior/words/other means of problem solving.  They’re kids, they’re still figuring stuff out.  Conversely, when we encounter children of over permissive parents I have to run double duty to make sure my kids don’t enthusiastically follow theirs out of sight or mimic them jumping off the top of the play structure.  

I have to admit, however, that I’ve been both.  And because of that I try not to judge.  Like when we went to the park a few days ago.  My kids were pretending they were on a pirate ship, and when a newcomer came aboard he was met with loud, hostile “pirates” (my 3 year old son and daughter, plus one other).  Before I could intervene and remind them that the structure was for everyone, the dad of the new child called my kids “brats”, instructed his kid to call my kids “brats”, and then removed his child from the play structure to play somewhere else.  

So my kids followed him.  There are a couple other things worth mentioning.  The boy was the same age (three) as my son and sporting a cap gun (which my son thought was the coolest thing ever).   And the dad looked stereotypically gangster-ish with his attire and tattoos, and the way he carried himself.  After my son apologized to the other boy, the kids got over it and played happily together for the better part of an hour.

I could have been passive and let it go, knowing the problem had been resolved without my involvement.  Or, I could have been overprotective and addressed this man for calling my kids “brats” unjustly.  But I could tell this dad was out of his comfort zone and he was defending his kid the best way he knew how.  Putting my stereotypes aside, I befriended him.  I explained that my child wasn’t trying to be mean, he was just playing “pirate”.  I also mentioned that my son was the same age (since he’s often mistaken for a five year old because of his size), and, like all three year olds, was still learning to play cooperatively.  Before you knew it, the dad relaxed, was equally friendly and the kids had a lot of fun together.

And, while I think that dad will probably continue to be overprotective and rescue his little guy in these types of situations, hopefully he can appreciate that sometimes it’s just a misunderstanding, and not meant to be personal.  And, maybe, just maybe, he left the park that day feeling a little less judgemental about stereotypes...like the “suburban stay at home mom”.  I know I did.

What kind of playground parent are you and how has that shaped your experience with others?

Sticks and Stones...

May break my bones...but the rest is totally untrue! Just ask any kid (or grown up, for that matter)- words hurt! I’ve heard this is especially problematic with grade-school girls, but since I’m not there yet, my only experience so far is with boys. But it still rings true, especially if you have a sensitive kid, and especially if he is associated in any way with being a baby.

My seven and nine year old had their first lesson in virality and how, once you put it out there, there’s no taking it back. I’m sure the seven year old didn’t intend to be mean- this is the comedian who often speaks before he thinks- but his hurtful and inaccurate words about his brother “playing with baby toys” were blurted out in an effort to get laughs...and spread like wildfire. (Note to self: another thing to add to the list of why being a mom makes me a better person- MEAN IS NOT FUNNY).

Anyway, the three of us had a long discussion about being careful about we say about others, being family and sticking together, and the importance of talking in truths. The reality is, the babies (who are now 3 ½ and not really babies) like all the toys their big brothers play with, so it’s not fair to say that his brother plays with baby toys just because they play together. And, for the record, the seven year old plays with them too. They are learning the hard way that things like this can’t be undone. And, unfortunately, it’s a lifelong lesson they may have to learn more than once.

But this whole situation got me thinking...if it weren’t my other son (and his brother) that started this “rumor”, knowing my nine year old is feeling ostracized, would I have taken a different course of action? Would I be expressing my concerns to the principal about the kid who is bullying my child? I think I would have...which is a reality check as far as I’m concerned.

While I do believe that bullying is a real problem, I think our kids are SO aware of it that they lose their ability to confront issues and problem solve, and label any mean thing another kid does as being “bullied”. We’ve made our kids hyper-sensitive, when, really, kids can just be mean. Period. I, for one, think that the sooner my kids realize and understand the difference between a real bully and a bad decision, the better off they will be. I didn’t “get it” until I was out of high school, but some people never “get it”. Best they learn now, don’t you think?

Dressing Out

Yes, that is my daughter. And, yes, I see that she’s wearing pajamas, under boy clothes with a cape, goggles and a fire hat. She’s, shall we say, an interesting dresser. Please do not shake your head in disagreement, resist the urge to explain to her that she isn’t wearing clothes properly or try to encourage her to dress “normally”. I know you have good intentions, but she’s three. She is fearlessly confident in her choice of outfits and is fiercely independent and proud. She’s got the innocence and sensitivity of a sweet child, and please respect that.

To be fair, many of the reactions we get come in the form of warm smiles from nostalgic moms of older kids who love to share stories about their child’s memorable quirks. And I do understand that my daughter’s unique sense of style could easily be misinterpreted as my lack of parenting. But, I assure you, I am doing her a favor.

I’ll admit that, after three boys, I had hopes of cute dresses and curly pig tails. But even before she could walk, she was especially motivated to dress herself. And once she was able to express herself through her attire, I realized that that she not only enjoys it, but it continues to play a crucial role in her development. (Even though I easily end up doing an extra load of laundry each day to accommodate her ever-changing ideas.)

As a former interesting dresser and teenage girl myself, I know that there will be plenty of time for her to feel the unfortunate effects of peer pressure to conform, and that she will eventually come to feel more comfortable in what is appropriate and acceptable. Our role as mothers is to our children is to help shape their confidence and give them the tools they need to be successful human beings. Shaming her about her wardrobe choices at the tender age of three just doesn’t seem to accomplish that. Is it really necessary to cause additional stress because she’d rather dress as a superhero of sorts than a princess? Besides, with four kids and being in constant demand, I couldn’t possibly fight every outfit battle, even if I wanted to.

So, to anyone who feels justified in judging my daughter for her unique sense of style (or me for letting her go out in public that way), I kindly request that you BACK OFF. She is a confident, loving and happy child, and that’s all the really matters.

Do you have an interesting dresser? Give her or him a hug for me.

Soccer and Sideline Parents

It was down to the third quarter of a close game; the score was 0-1. The boys were tired from giving it their all and playing in the hot afternoon sun. Half time was almost over and it was time for a pep talk. Coach huddled the team up and did his best to convince them to dig deep. After all, they were only one point behind the league’s fiercest opponent, and giving up now would mean giving them victory. As coach rattled off their field assignments, he sent the boys out to claim their territory, which they all did with unwavering determination. Except one kid. He was pouting because he didn’t want to play in the position that coach had assigned to him.

He moped onto the field and just before the whistle blew to start the quarter he broke down crying. Now, I understand that he REALLY wanted to play a different position, but part of playing on a team means you play your best, no matter where the coach puts you. This kid defiantly crossed his arms and hung his head in disappointment, tears streaming, as coach pulled him off the field and hustled in a replacement.

The child’s frustration turned into anger as he sat down in protest at the sideline. Coach gave his best “I understand you don’t want to play that position, but that’s where the team needs you” speech but it fell on deaf ears. Instead, he got an earful in return from an eight year old about how much he hates that position, hates soccer and isn’t having fun!

Now, if that were my kid, I wouldn’t have hesitated to pull him aside, calm him down and make him apologize to his coach. After all, what good is he to the team if he refuses to listen to the coach? It was unquestionably a teachable moment.

So I was shocked to see his mom crouch down be side him, comfort him, then proceed to angrily question the coach, “Why isn’t he playing?!”. Coach tried to calmly and patiently (while also trying to coach a game) explain to her that her son had refused to play in the position he was given. Now, let me just say, that I understand as a mother the intense desire to protect your child; to ensure their happiness and rescue them from their frustrations. I GET THAT. But this was one of those important character-building opportunities to teach her son- if not by example- how to deal with life’s disappointments.

Instead of turning to her son and helping him see the value of being part of a team and the importance of listening to the coach, the mom stood up and raised her voice to the coach, and demanding an answer, shouted, “Why can’t he just play in the position he wants to play in?!”. Like son, like mother. Really? That’s what you want to teach your child? Throw a tantrum and get your way. Who cares about the team or the authority of a coach? You’re going to prevent the coach from coaching because you think your son is the only thing that matters right now? What about the other seven kids on the field- including mine- who are tired and playing their hearts out. Take a seat, lady, this is not the time nor the place.

At first I was slightly horrified and really irritated by this situation (can you tell?). After all, the coach is a volunteer, is great with the kids and has done a phenomenal job. (I later made it a point of telling him that). I find it really unfortunate that this woman was teaching her son that when you don’t get your way, throwing a tantrum and disrespecting authority is perfectly acceptable. And then it occurred to me...outside of soccer, SHE is this child’s authority. So, while she may not have recognized it in this soccer moment, I’m sure the day will come (probably after years of therapy) when she realizes that she is, in effect, teaching her son to defy HER. And, suddenly, I found peace with it all.