What Kind Of Mom Are You At The Playground?

by Cookie

images

Pixabay

Yesterday I decided to do the dumbest thing in the world and take both of my tiny humans to the mall in the post Christmas sales blitz.

But the mall has a play area you see.   And we were on the second day after a blizzard, it was fucking cold outside and Husband was sleeping after a night shift.

The mall was my only hope.

So we went.  I found some fabulous boots on sale, the monsters didn’t monster too bad in the shoe stores and I rewarded them with a lengthy run in the overcrowded, germ infested insanity of the mall play area.

It was ridiculously busy, so I didn’t dare even take a “mom-out” to look at my phone for fear that Buddy would fuck off on me just for a special Christmastime treat.

Instead, I watched.  And I found it super interesting to watch the other parents out there.  Their style.   Their involvement.  The way they speak to their kids.

There’s a lot of different types of moms out there.

Myself, I’m a stay out of it but watching the whole time kind of mom.  I like to see the kids play and figure out how to interact with other personalities without much coaching from me.  I like to see them react or not react to what the other kids do, and especially love to see how kids just play with other kids without hesitation.  I am always ready to jump in if they can’t figure something out, but I figure they won’t learn how to push their boundaries and physical limitations if I always step in.   I like to let kids be kids, so to speak.

Also, I like to sit the fuck down for a few minutes sometimes, and let my children be entertained by other children.

There was this one mom who actually called her child over and told him not to play with my child because Buddy at one point had his finger up his nose.  “Don’t go over there and touch where he touched”.  

Lady, while I appreciate your effort to rid the world of communicable diseases, I can assure you that every surface in a crowded mall play area contain some type of booger or spit or tears or something equally gross.   He’s three.  He pretty much has a finger in his nose or down his pants 75% of the time, regardless of efforts on my part to get him to leave his orifices alone. Give it up.

There was another poor mom who had a baby on her hip, and spent the entire time chasing her two-ish year old back into the playground.  She was the mom who was constantly redirecting her kid, and got no rest at all.

God I remember those days.  Mall people:  Can you get a brain and put a gate across the exit so this poor woman can sit down and have a coffee while her kid runs free for a few minutes?

Then there’s the dads.  They tend to not ever say anything to their kids.  No nagging, no calling for them, no baby talking them.  They just physically alter their kid’s course by picking them up, twirling them upside down a few times, and setting them down in a different place.  An ultimate disorientation and redirection plan.  I like it.  I like it A LOT.

Then there’s the regular parents that just sit there.  Sometimes they chat with you.  These are my favourite kind.  Nobody trying to out-parent you.  Not trying to tell you how to do a better job.  Just normal parents.

What kind of Mom are you at the mall, Bitches?

 

 

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