One out of Ten times
Dear Obnoxious Parent at Owen's soccer class,
Nine times out of ten, I try my very best not to judge other parents. I realize that none of us really know what we're doing and we're trying to give our kids the best we can offer. Except you. Well, either you're not trying or you're just lost at the moment. Your constant exasperated and hostile whining led me to believe that you don't enjoy your kids. It seemed that your young kids were so accustomed to your barked commands and critical comments, that they didn't even appear very bothered by it. I was bothered by it, though. If you were aware of your surroundings, you'd have seen by the pained facial expressions of every other parent on the bleachers that they were bothered by your harsh and joyless parenting too. I wanted to hug your son. I wanted to tell him that I understand that it's tough to pay attention to the coach when you're four. I could see that he was trying, but the neighbouring classes offered too many distractions. I wanted to tell him that while, yes-it was cheating to use his hands in soccer, it was also some great problem solving skills. Afterall, he DID manage to get the ball over the big inflatable barrier. I know it didn't look big to you, Sir, but you're not three feet tall. My son used his hands too. That's ok-it's not the World Cup and he's still learning.
Sir, did you not notice that you were the only parent stomping around the field, dragging your four year old by the arm? The rest of us sat on the benches, trusting the coaches with our kids. Did you not notice that you were the only parent who was screaming orders at his kid during a game of freeze tag? Your voice is booming, I'll admit that even I was startled at first. It's only a game of tag. Relax. Take a deep breath. Threatening to stop him from playing soccer "EVER AGAIN" because he didn't perform incredibly well in freeze tag might be overkill. I was relieved when you stopped paying attention to your son's soccer performance long enough to make a call to your wife from your cell phone. I thought it would give the poor kid a welcome break from having his name hollered at him angrily from the sidelines. When, a few minutes later, your little girl told you that she needed to pee, you made no efforts to hide your frustration with her. How dare she interrupt your phone call with a basic biological need? When she tried to appease you by saying proudly "that's ok, daddy. I can go all by myself", you asked her if she was stupid and told her to wait until you were good and ready to take her. Lucky for your son, you had to leave the field to help your daughter. He gained another 3 minutes of peace during soccer class.
At the end of class, we all helped our kids into their winter coats and I was a bit mystified by your last tantrum of the evening. Why was it so important to you that your 4 year old put on his coat before his hat? Clearly, he wanted to reverse the order and when you're small and granted so few choices to make, this seems like an easy one for a parent to go along with. My son wears his shoes on the wrong feet and insists on wearing his winter hat backwards so the earflaps look askew. I couldn't care less because it affords him the sense of choice, a sense I can't give him all the time. He MUST sit in a car seat. He MUST brush his teeth. He MUST wear socks in the winter but he can wear his hat any damn way he wants, and he can put it on before or after his coat.
I'm sure you love your kids, but I wonder just how loved they actually feel. If, when they're grown, your kids choose to be parents, you might want to consider that you're teaching them how they should treat those sweet grandbabies of yours. As I watched you storm off towards your car with two small bodies trailing behind you, I felt both sorry for you and happy for me. After an hour seated next to you on the bleachers, I feel so grateful for the man who is both my husband and my boys loving and supportive father. So, thank you for the reminder.
Sincerely,
Owen's mom
"What we remember from childhood we remember forever-permanent ghosts, stamped, inked, imprinted, eternally seen"-Cynthia Ozick
Nine times out of ten, I try my very best not to judge other parents. I realize that none of us really know what we're doing and we're trying to give our kids the best we can offer. Except you. Well, either you're not trying or you're just lost at the moment. Your constant exasperated and hostile whining led me to believe that you don't enjoy your kids. It seemed that your young kids were so accustomed to your barked commands and critical comments, that they didn't even appear very bothered by it. I was bothered by it, though. If you were aware of your surroundings, you'd have seen by the pained facial expressions of every other parent on the bleachers that they were bothered by your harsh and joyless parenting too. I wanted to hug your son. I wanted to tell him that I understand that it's tough to pay attention to the coach when you're four. I could see that he was trying, but the neighbouring classes offered too many distractions. I wanted to tell him that while, yes-it was cheating to use his hands in soccer, it was also some great problem solving skills. Afterall, he DID manage to get the ball over the big inflatable barrier. I know it didn't look big to you, Sir, but you're not three feet tall. My son used his hands too. That's ok-it's not the World Cup and he's still learning.
Sir, did you not notice that you were the only parent stomping around the field, dragging your four year old by the arm? The rest of us sat on the benches, trusting the coaches with our kids. Did you not notice that you were the only parent who was screaming orders at his kid during a game of freeze tag? Your voice is booming, I'll admit that even I was startled at first. It's only a game of tag. Relax. Take a deep breath. Threatening to stop him from playing soccer "EVER AGAIN" because he didn't perform incredibly well in freeze tag might be overkill. I was relieved when you stopped paying attention to your son's soccer performance long enough to make a call to your wife from your cell phone. I thought it would give the poor kid a welcome break from having his name hollered at him angrily from the sidelines. When, a few minutes later, your little girl told you that she needed to pee, you made no efforts to hide your frustration with her. How dare she interrupt your phone call with a basic biological need? When she tried to appease you by saying proudly "that's ok, daddy. I can go all by myself", you asked her if she was stupid and told her to wait until you were good and ready to take her. Lucky for your son, you had to leave the field to help your daughter. He gained another 3 minutes of peace during soccer class.
At the end of class, we all helped our kids into their winter coats and I was a bit mystified by your last tantrum of the evening. Why was it so important to you that your 4 year old put on his coat before his hat? Clearly, he wanted to reverse the order and when you're small and granted so few choices to make, this seems like an easy one for a parent to go along with. My son wears his shoes on the wrong feet and insists on wearing his winter hat backwards so the earflaps look askew. I couldn't care less because it affords him the sense of choice, a sense I can't give him all the time. He MUST sit in a car seat. He MUST brush his teeth. He MUST wear socks in the winter but he can wear his hat any damn way he wants, and he can put it on before or after his coat.
I'm sure you love your kids, but I wonder just how loved they actually feel. If, when they're grown, your kids choose to be parents, you might want to consider that you're teaching them how they should treat those sweet grandbabies of yours. As I watched you storm off towards your car with two small bodies trailing behind you, I felt both sorry for you and happy for me. After an hour seated next to you on the bleachers, I feel so grateful for the man who is both my husband and my boys loving and supportive father. So, thank you for the reminder.
Sincerely,
Owen's mom
"What we remember from childhood we remember forever-permanent ghosts, stamped, inked, imprinted, eternally seen"-Cynthia Ozick
Wow - how sad for those children, and their parents (imagine the parenting thet must have received!) But fantastic that you have turned something so negative into a positive reminder of your good parenting and beautiful, healthy, loving family.
ReplyDeleteI totally agree with the above comment.
ReplyDelete