The Big Question: The Oh, so all of the sudden eating babies is WRONG NOW? Edition
Now I have never actually had a child of my own, but I HAVE seen Mommie Dearest about fifty seven times, so I think I know a little something about parenting, and as such I am concerned by the lack of parenting I’m seeing at local grocery stores and I am about to make my own Modest Proposal.
about fifty seven times, so I think I know a little something about parenting, and as such I am concerned by the lack of parenting I’m seeing at local grocery stores and I am about to make my own Picture it: a Wednesday afternoon in beautiful Austin, Texas. Your heroine, laid low with the hamthrax, has dragged what remains of her dying-yet-still-pretty-great-looking carcass to the local grocery store to avail herself of some lemonade popsicles. She needs more lemonade popsicles because apparently that’s her lawn guy’s perferred form of currency, which is just fine with her because I don’t think it counts as child labor if it’s on the barter system. (ManoloLawyer, where are we on that?)
Everything was going just fine, I had my box of tissues, I had my sunglasses, I had my enormous cart for one (possibly two) items because I cannot be trusted to not lose a handbasket. The whole thing should’ve been a 10 minute excursion, 15 if I bought wine.
So there I was, minding my own business, gracefully dying of the swine when *WHAM.* CHILDREN.
Now, I think I’ve made it clear that I really don’t care for children. They’re loud and self-centered and usually leaking some sort of fluid, and frankly that’s my shtick. So basically as a species, once they’re past that cute stage where you can just put them in the dryer and let them take a nap (helpful tip: the dryer really does have to be off. Even on “fluff” your cocktail hour will still be interrupted with THAWUMP THAWUMP WAAAAH and that defeats the whole purpose) I could do without them.
The one exception is this boy named O.
O is 8 and calls me “The Prim and Proper Lady” he is a tribute to both his mommies and once waited in line on Easter Sunday to tell me how much he regarded my chapeau (which, of course, was lovely.)
In my head I’ve got some sort of thing where I’m his Auntie Mame and he’s my Patrick and we’ll travel the world together until I accidentally buy him long pants and then he tries to marry some yankee girl with a Locust Valley Lockjaw and extremely wrong-thinking views about iced tea.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t O who rammed into me going full force somewhere near the frozen green beans. No, it was some feral tribe of ankle biters who had escaped their astoundingly young mother (confidential to mother: seriously do you even go to the hospital anymore or do you just point and shoot, hoping they’ll land on the soft spot of their skulls?) and had gone all Lord of the Flies on me.
Who? Who are these people? I mean shouldn’t they be at school, torturing the smart kids who will one day buy and sell them? Why are they disrupting the natural order of things? What’s up with the mom and why am I not allowed to beat these children the way they so sorely need?
Mmmph. Okay, need a poptail now (Poptail recipe: take one lemonade popsicle, and 2 oz of Pernod or Chartreuse –or Absinthe if you’re an a#%hole– dip popsicle in the booze, lick, repeat.) so while I’m getting potted on popsicles, let me give you this big question:
Today Miss Plumcake wants to know:
What is YOUR child-related pet peeve and what, in your non-legally-punishable fantasy would you do about it?
I’m just saying.
I cannot stand it when people allow their children to shriek ever more piercing screams that can be heard across all three floors of Nordstrom’s.
And don’t start with me about how “some children are just screamers” or “I’m almost done shopping and then we’re leaving”. When my daughter went through her screaming phase (because they all have one), I hurried my happy ass out of the store as fast as possible, clutching said daughter tightly, shushing in her ear, and blushing crimson from shame. (Well, mostly, but I at least left the store if I couldn’t get her to stop after one or two…)
And we’re not talking about in a restaurant where you really can’t leave until you’ve paid the tab, or even the grocery store when you just absolutely MUST buy children’s Tylenol and a bottle of Grey Goose, we’re talking about a Manifestly Nice Department Store, where people expect a restful (if not totally silent) shopping experience.
“Hamthrax”? OMFG, girl, I just won major points with my coworkers with that one.
Tell me, do the symptoms of hamthrax include the ham sweats?
I teach figure skating to young children (kids who aren’t even particularly stable on dry land, with sharp pieces of metal strapped to their feet). My biggest pet peeve is when they behave inexcusably, that is, knocking other kids over, refusing to participate, causing major disruption, etc., and their parents act like it’s my fault.
Seriously? I’m just a figure skater. Not a child psychologist. You fix them, and then I’ll teach them how to skate.
My fantasy for dealing with them would look something like curling.
Has anyone else noticed the meteoric rise of Cheerios as *the* toddler snack-on-the-go food item? They show up everywhere! Whole, crushed, embedded at the molecular level – Cheerios, and toddlers gumming them, seem to be in every public place. The most disgusting aspect of the whole thing though, is when you and some co-workers, having a bad day, decide to go drink some lunch, and are seated at a table where, despite the best efforts of the staff, a fine layer of Cheerio covers the table, the chairs, the floor – everything. EW.
Oh Libby, to paraphrase the great Fran Lebowitz, those sticky Cheerios children just don’t smoke enough.
I think all establishments, retail, culinary, and open to the public ought to have a brat check and it should be mandatory. A sound proof padded stall should work. That or the breeder should control said demon(s). I was in a nice restaurant a few days ago hoping to enjoy a lovely glass or 5 and a moderately pricy meal with friends. In comes the couple towing juniorzilla. They strap the snotty, drooling, gifted child in and give him all of the table accessories to throw all over the place and at everyone. Said yard ape then screamed and kicked until mommy dearest gave it something else inappropiate to throw. Instead of being able to stay and enjoy, we left as soon as possible, our Manolos and Jimmy Choos slipping in the sugar, salt, drool, and other fluids leaked by this precious tot.
One of my biggest pet peeves isnt the misbehaving children its the parents too afraid to discipline their children!
My fantasy for dealing with those parents: tie them up and slap them up side the head and make them watch Super Nanny….they had them now take care of them!!
by the way, I do have a 15 year old son and he has manners and he knows how to behave in public…
whew glad to get that off my chest. I feel so much better!
There is a book called I hate other people’s children. I highy recommend it!!!
My pet peeve is when people let their little brats(ages 2-7) run around by themselves in any store!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This little brat ran into me at the thrift store and I lost my cell phone!
I don’t particularly care for children, either, but yesterday at the supermarket, a lady turned to another lady, who had a brood of four, and said to her, “What a beautiful family you have!” And somehow that made my day. I bet these haggard mothers don’t often hear that!
I generally like kids. I particularly like well behaved, cute kids who have parents who understand that screaming, leaking and otherwise unruly children (all kids have these moments- I know) promptly remove them from any public space promptly after the unruly behavior starts.
I do not blame the children- I blame the parents.
My pet peeve is going to a fine dining establishment, where I am paying top dollar to have a nice dinner with my husband, and I am seated next to a family that has thought it was appropriate to bring a young child to said eating establishment, and the child proceeds to screech, throw things, scream, cry, rant and rave and the parents just sit there, allowing the child to misbehave. I recently was at an Iron Chef Restaurant, with my husband, celebrating an important event in our lives- We had reservations for 8:00 PM, thinking that the place would only have adults at that time. Wrong! Our table was next to a table with a set of three year old twins- I know how old they were because one of them kept popping his head up over the booth divider and telling us how old he was. His brother shrieked with laughter at this. When we ignored this child, he started to screech. We continued trying to have a nice dinner, when the laughing twin stood up and proceeded to pour his sippy cup of juice on my husband. Now, my husband is about the calmest person on the planet and in our decade together, he has only been visibly angry twice. He stood up, asked the server for a rag to clean up and asked the mother for a card in order to send her the cleaning bill.
The mother had the gall to say “If you had just paid attention to Mikey, none of this would have happened”
My husband, in his typically charming way said to the woman “If you had just paid attention to basic etiquette, none of this would have happened.”
The look on her face was priceless.
If we were at a family restaurant, or a fast food place, well, OK- kids go with the territory- they are the training grounds for kids to learn manners for fine dining. Please, if your children still require sippy cups, then a fine dinning establishment is a no go situation.
Don’t even get me started on kids in bars. Seriously- NO.
If your children are not old enough to sit still for an entire meal- limit them to Denney’s or McDonalds. Otherwise I will be forced to vaporize them.
Oh Kimks, I am sooooooo utterly with you.
I recently watched an episode that made me long to find a truly imaginative way to punish a parent who was utterly inept.
Mr. Twistie and I had been out when Mr. Twistie remembered something he needed at the grocery store. I was sort of tired and decided to sit in the car for the ‘two minutes’ it was going to take.
After a moment, my attention was attracted by a small boy of probably six or seven summers playing in the parking lot. Yes, the parking lot. No, without supervision. There was a decorative strip in the asphalt filled with large rocks. The boy was amusing himself by choosing a random large rock, picking it up, and hurling it as far down the strip as he could manage. Through – no doubt, because I can fathom no other possible means – the intervention of some god of innocent by-parkers, none of the rocks hit any of the cars parked on either side of this roughly two-foot-wide strip, thank goodness. Still, as I watched the kid prance around hurling rocks I kept being convinced that he was going to either lose his footing and his two front teeth or take out someone’s headlight.
As Mr. Twistie’s ‘two minutes’ expanded to fill twenty Earth minutes, eventually the kid’s father (or at least a physical adult of the male persuasion whom the child ran straight toward and who seemed to be in charge of the sprog) sauntered out of the store and opened up the doors of a minivan. Without paying any attention whatsoever to what the kid did, he got in, slammed his door shut, hit whatever button automatically made the rear door shut, and started the engine, beginning to pull out of the space before the back door was even closed, let alone before assuring himself and the rest of the world that the kid was strapped in for the safety of himself and others.
The kid had hurled himself into the van as though he were sliding into Home, but he barely made it in. The door was nearly completely shut and the van was ALREADY IN MOTION.
A blood curdling scream arose from the rear of the minivan. Daddy stopped the vehicle, hopped out, and tried to open the back door. No dice. After a couple more tries, he started the engine again, whereupon he was finally able to accomplish the task. This is when the screaming stopped. My guess is that the kid had been lying on the floor with his pant leg caught all that time.
This time there was no scream when Daddy started the car, thank goodness. Alas, he took only an extra nanosecond to check that all was well on his second try at getting out of that parking lot.
Clearly, this is a kid who has no hope if left to the tender mercies of this so-called adult. And one day Daddy will probably sit in the courtroom at his kid’s first arraignment and wonder what went wrong when he was such a ‘cool’ dad.
Mom? If you’re reading this, make that man take a damn parenting class…and go with him to make sure he studies. Who knows? You might get some helpful hints at the same time.
Perhaps this is out of the age range Plumcake intended, but as a university professor I observe a lot of late teens. Apparently parents today are trained to abide by the following 3 mantras: MyChildGetsAnythingSheWants, MyBabymustbePraisedConstantly(AndHere’sATrophy) and HowDareAnyoneTellMyKidHesNotPerfectBecauseHeIs.
Let’s just say a lot of “empowered” kids are getting a rude awakening when they leave the nest and go to college. And no, Mommy and Daddy can’t raise a stink anymore and make the bad grades go away at the university level, unless the science building is named after Grandpa.
If parents would learn to say “no”, differentiate when a kid does great from doing okay (or -gasp- badly), and set some rules with actual punishments meted out when they are broken, they will do their children a favor in the long run. Unless they really want a 30-year-old spoiled brat living in their basement because s/he can’t hold a job or maintain a relationship.
I really wish I could do the same to children as I do to my dogs – pick them up by the scruff of the neck, give them a firm “NO!” and them put them in their kennel for the rest of the day.
My fiance and I live above two of the most UNRULY, WILD, UNDISCIPLINED, CIRCUS ANIMAL children on the entire face of the Earth.
First of all, they’re both fat. I blame the parents for this one. Nothing worse than fat kids who are not allowed out to “play”, but the PS3 is on for, like, 4+ hours a day. They’re 6 and 8. I’m not even 100% sure that they go to school.
Secondly, they don’t simply talk to one another like normal humans. They YELL. At all hours of the day or night, they yell, most annoyingly at 8am on Saturdays and Sundays. When they want something, they grunt. And grunt. And whine. And YELL. Again, the parents could maybe intervene, but they have chosen, despite our numerous requests, to do nothing. The parents turn a blind eye while the children run wild.
Lastly, they slam things. Doors, windows, balls, each other into the walls. They run up and down the halls STOMP STOMP STOMP. It never ends. I seriously feel for the people below them.
NOTHING can be done quietly. The kids are totally overfed, understimulated (because video games don’t count) and totally undisciplined. There have been many days where I want to take a knitting needle and yarn and go downstairs, push my way past their fat, constant cigarette smoking “dad” and practice my suturing technique on their fast food guzzling yell-holes.
Wow, there sure is a lot of hating going on here. Now would be the perfect time for all of you to have children since you seem to have the whole thing figured out perfectly. The only time–and I do mean only–that you will ever feel like you can be a perfect parent is when you don’t have any kids.
I’m not a “breeder” and my kids are not “brats”, “demons”, “yard-apes”, or any other epithet you can dream up. My husband and I work damn hard to make sure that we take them only to places where kids can reasonably be expected to behave and to remove them if they fail to live up to expectations. Just because there are parents out there who don’t always do that does not give you license to advocate violence against them and their kids.
Oh, and JayKay, extra points for the fat hate. “There really is nothing worse than fat kids.” Did you by any chance notice that this blog is for fat women, many of whom may have been fat kids at some point? Nice.
Every single last one of you was once a child, and you would do well to remember that. I really don’t expect to encounter hate speech on a fashion blog, but every day brings fresh surprises, not all of them good.
Oh, so many incidents to choose from. One of my favorites was a young woman who was in clinic (I’m a nurse practitioner in family planning) with her two small children in tow. We discourage patients from bringing children with them because our clinic is so small and completely ill-equipped for kids.
My nurse was rooming the patient, i.e. getting her blood pressure, etc., and told the patient that we would try to accommodate her and her children, but if she was to return for another visit, to please make child care arrangements.
“Well,” the patient said to her, “if you have money for a baby-sitter, then that’s what I’ll do.”
News flash: if you can’t afford a baby-sitter, DON’T HAVE CHILDREN.
My main pet peeve is when a child is ALLOWED to kick the seat of the perfectly mannered adult sitting in front of them. Be it at the movies, in an airplane, or a sporting event, CONTROL YOUR DAMN KID!
When I turn around and glare at your child, then at the parent, DONT get all indignant with me about having the audacity to expect that I will be able to sit in my seat without some demon child kicking the shit out of it for his or her own fun.
Then, when I turn around the second time and politely ask you to stop your child from kicking my seat, DONT criticize me for not worshipping the “cuteness” of your perfect spawn and get all up in my face about not being tolerant. That shit doesn’t fly because I AM A PARENT…twice over. My kids have been made to apologize for kicking the seat in front of them AND lose their favorite toy/money/treat for the day afterwards. Needless to say, I only have to do that once for them to learn the lesson.
As for a not-so-legal punishment, I would say both parent AND child get the same treatment they dished out. Kick the shit out THEIR seat, scream and cry in their face, and watch them squirm.
Whew…I feel better now!
I used to work in a thrift store, and we definitely had parents who believed that our toy section was the in-store, unsupervised daycare. I remember one lovely set of cousins or brothers (came in with two women, not sure whose was whose) who grabbed toy trucks and proceeded to race them up and down the halls, and then run away from any staff who was attempting to reign them in. There was also the mom who believed that calmly finishing her shopping and then leisurely checking out was the best way to handle her child’s incessant screaming for a toy.
But my worst kid’s story is not to do with the kid, but the parent. A perfectly sweet, calm, but scared little girl (4 or 5) came up to the register during one of our sales (which are INSANE) and said that she had lost her mommy. So I announced over the loudspeakers “Will Kaylee’s mommy please meet her at the front desk,” and just reassured the girl that her mom would be there soon. Mom and Auntie came up a WAY too long time later (what, you just HAD to finish trying on those 80′s jeans?) and proceeded to cuss first the girl and each other out, because everyone but the party currently speaking was to blame for this poor child’s wandering away. At that point I just really wanted to tell them to go back to shopping, Kaylee could just hang out with me and be away from her crazy potty-mouthed mom. Grr.
I have been a great fan of your website, but this is perhaps the first post (and a few associated comments) that I could neither like the post or nor appreciate the humour (if any).
And to clarify, I dont have children and I have been annoyed by such brats many a times.
I totally have a fantasy about these:
http://www.ikea.com/ch/de/catalog/products/40100253
They should come sound-proof and lockable.
Nicole, suck it up. If your children are well-behaved, these posts obviously do not apply to them – although I, too, am not going to demonize children for being fat. I was a fat kid. An active, fat kid. But I was a well-behaved fat kid, and I despise undisciplined parents and their undisciplined demon spawn. And I do NOT count McDonald’s, or any other low-priced restaurant, as a training ground for children. The poor, who also eat there, have it bad enough. HOME is the training ground for children. My mother could take five children under the age of ten to a restaurant, and she was complimented on their behaviour – and SHE was an alcoholic, for God’s sake. These people I run into every day cannot meet the standards set by my darling, ALCOHOLIC mother – who still disciplined us so we wouldn’t be a boil on the backside of humanity.
I was trapped in steerage on a transatlantic flight once, and there was a child running up and down the aisle, bothering other passengers. His parents, however, could not be bothered. I stuck my foot out, and when he picked himself up, he returned to his seat.
News flash: if you can’t afford a baby-sitter, DON’T HAVE CHILDREN.
Seriously?
Damn uppity poor folks, what were they thinking?
YES, TeleriB, IF YOU CAN’T AFFORD A BABY-SITTER, DON’T HAVE CHILDREN! No one is saying if you can’t afford a pound of diamonds, don’t have children. Babysitters are not the equivalent of a masseur. They are a fairly minor expense. People who cannot manage a minor expense SHOULD NOT HAVE CHILDREN. Children involve many more, not minor, expenses. And if parents can’t pay for those children and their expenses, who will? EVERYONE ELSE! And NO, I DON’T WANT TO PAY FOR POOR PEOPLE’S CHILDREN. I’M POOR MYSELF. And not enjoying it. And not enjoying having it aggravated by paying for other people’s children – children I didn’t have, because I KNEW I couldn’t afford to raise them! So I get punished because other people, who WANTED children they couldn’t afford, went right ahead and had them. IF YOU CAN’T AFFORD TO PAY FOR YOUR OWN KIDS AND THEIR EXPENSES, DON’T HAVE THEM. If you can afford one but not two, have ONE, not two.
LBD, my kids are well behaved. They get complimented on their politeness all the time. But you know what, when people start calling children names and making shocking generalizations, I’m going to call them out on it. So don’t tell me to suck it up.
And do you know what a babysitter costs these days? My husband and I are both employed with good jobs and we can only afford to hire a sitter a few times a year.
Does an 8-yr-old really need a book, a snack and a toy to get her through one hour of church? Does a four-year-old need the snack? Can’t a four-year-old go an hour without eating?
Do three kids have to come barreling down the stairs during the ONE HOUR of book club to tell their mom something? Without mom saying, “Not now, kids. I’m busy. Go back upstairs?” I mean, are children no longer taught that it is impolite to interrupt adults?
Oh yeah. And that’s “Mrs Factotum” when you introduce me to your child, not “Class.” I am not on a first-name basis with a kindergartner, or at least, he is not on a first-name basis with me.
First of all, babies are very fatty and bad for your figure. Secondly, crappy kids suck but I just remind myself that I only have to see them for a few minutes whereas their parents have to take them home with them. That’s punishment enough. But also fining them would be nice.
Wow- This post has generated a lot of interesting responses. I like kids. I get that kids are learning to behave appropriatly. I get that there are going to be trying times for kids- and parents. I get that there will be moments when your child just will behave like a crazed lunatic despite your best efforts. What I do not get are parents that allow for the crazed lunatic behavior to continue for longer than necessary with out doing anything to stop the behavior. Any attempt to discipline or control a child would be appreciated- and I am not talking about abuse- I am talking about if your child starts to throw a tantrum in the middle of a movie you remove him. If your child throws a fit in the middle of the store, you remove her. If your child pours juice over an expensive suit that a stranger is wearing, for no apparent reason, you do not blame the stranger, you offer to have the suit cleaned.
I am not unreasonable or pompus. I was in an elevator, with a todler and his mother . He was upset- kept saying he didn’t feel good, and his mom said, I know honey, thats why we are going to the doctors. The child threw up on me. The mother was mortified. She was trying to calm and console a very sick child. I assured the mom that all was OK- she offered to clean my suit and my shoes, I told her not to worry- sick kids happen. I see this child and mom on a regular basis- we live in the same apartment building, one floor apart. The son is well behaved. The mother does what needs to be done to raise a polite child.
Do you see the difference here? The Mom was doing the right thing by taking care of her child. I was understanding. Allowing children to be unruly, rude and bratty continually is not appropriate on any level.
When my daughter was 4 I had had it up to my eyeballs with her tantrums- I had tried everything to keep her from having the tantrums- removed her from the situation- ignored the bad behavior- rewarded her when she behaved. She had a tantrum in the shoe department of a local discount store. I was tired of it- and had the bright idea that If I had a tanrtrum with her she might stop. So I did- got down on the floor, flailed my arms, cried, complained. She was first mortified and then she laughed because I was acting funny. She never had another tantrum
At the end of the day, parenting is hard work, Its expensive work, it is tiring and frustrating and smelly, and at times wet. There are times when you don’t know what to do. Do something. Anything. Raising good kids is hard. It is worth it.
Note on the babysitting- my daughter makes $10.00 an hour babysitting- it is not cheap- we need to have a bit of patience with those that cannot afford a babysitter. We also need to have a bit of patience that try to raise decent kids.
Don’t even get me started on the college kids who are entitled. I work with the interns at our firm and they all seem stunned to not have the corner office….
Sorry for the typos- was typing without the benefit of caffeine. It happens.
My fantasy (and yes, it stays in the realm of fantasy, I’d never actually DO this) is to go up to a kid who’s wandering alone in public, hand them a note, and say “here, take this to your mommy”. The note would read “In the time it took me to give your child this note, I could have kidnapped them instead.”
Well said, Kimks. I think that 99% of truly bad children are caused by bad parents. Kids do strange, messy, rude, loud, sometimes hilarious things, and the very definition of parenting is to balance kids’ comfort with an introduction to the niceties of social interaction. I think hating kids because of their idiotic behavior is… inaccurate, I guess. Hate their parents.
I feel the same way about children as I do about tigers: They are okay and kind of adorable on television or behind glass, but I do not necessarily want to sit next to one on the train or bring one into my home.
I understand that children can be difficult, but I think many people bring children into situations that are unsuitable and then are shocked when the kids are awful. My personal pet peeve is kids in nice restaurants. If your kid is unable to sit at the table and eat and chat quietly for the length of a three-course meal, then that child does not belong in the restaurant. I do not want to spend my (rather expensive, planned and anticipated for weeks) evening listening to your child scream and carry on or watch the servers try not to trip and drop steaming hot trays on a tot running loose through the aisles. My parents did without nice dinners when I was little because they couldn’t afford a babysitter on top of the cost of eating out, and did not feel comfortable taking me to a restaurant they weren’t sure I’d behave in–for nearly 5 years, the nicest restaurant they got to eat in was Friendly’s. They looked at that as one of the sacrifices they had to make because they had a child.
I firmly believe that sit-down restaurants should have “Children” and “No Children” dining areas, just as there used to be “Smoking” and “Non-Smoking.”
If we’re going to complain, how about we pick on somebody our own size? Fat haters: good target. Bad parents: good target. Children who haven’t been taught any better: not a good target. Aim your annoyance at the cause, the bad parenting and the bad judgment. And remember you live in a glass house–do you want all of your decisions judged by strangers who don’t know your circumstances? Some of those parents who are *now* too poor to hire a sitter might have had enough money a year ago, or when they had the kids, and in the interim their lives have changed (maybe laid off, maybe their partner became disabled or left them for another person or died).
It’s true that many of them are just bad parents, selfish and thoughtless, but you can’t really tell which ones just by a couple of hours’ observation. (The ones who are your neighbors–or your relatives–you can probably tell, sure.) I’m a mother who has dealt with divorce and being a single mom, and because I worked full time outside the home I didn’t want to leave my kids with sitters, so they came to the grocery store with me.
Maybe you’re not somebody who believes in community, in a duty to others to help them instead of judging and berating them? Maybe you could feel sorry for the parent whose child is acting out when the parent obviously doesn’t have any cope left, or doesn’t have the skills to figure out their own child and help them learn better behavior? Remember the time you had a school mate or co-worker you didn’t like? Now try imagining that you have that bad a match with your own child, and how hard it is to parent a child you don’t actually like or understand. When you’re someone who enjoys sitting quietly with a book and never had to be taught to be still, how do you learn how to teach a rowdy, energetic child to do it?
And none of you had better be advocates of free range kids, or bemoan how overscheduled and oversupervised today’s kids are, because letting your kids run around the grocery store unsupervised is how some people let them learn to be independent.
See, I wish I could take my dog places with me, like to restaurants. He’s much better behaved than some kids!
Also, I don’t have kids, but I wouldn’t think that letting your kids run around in the grocery store (or any store) is a good way to let them learn to be independent, but I would think that it is a good way to let them damage a lot of stuff that you would then have to pay for.
Thank you Kimks, exactly.
just last week a stray toddler came running up to me and my 5 month old son in target and reached into the stroller and slapped him right across the face before I could grab her hand. In full view of the parents.
But lack of parental disipline aside, what gets me is that a nurse practitioner at a FAMILY PLANNING clinic is saying that if you can’t afford a babysitter don’t have children. Really?! REALLY? Seriously? Jesus christ lady, do you not realize the irony here? A FAMILY PLANNING CLINIC?
Way to drive away the people that need your services the most. I’m amazed that anyone would bother returning to a clinic populated with staffers like that. And that’s a damn shame. Because the world needs more family planning clinics, it certainly doesn’t need more disrespectful and judgmental health care professionals who disrespect their patients.
(and this is exactly why both the heath care industry and the child care situation in this country is so screwed up. How are you supposed to deal with family planning when you can’t afford childcare to go to the doctor? And how can you actually stop having children you can’t afford without freaking family planning/birth control that you need to get through a doctor? and who needs a damn nurse practitioner lecturing you about how you really should be getting a babysitter you can’t afford for your children you can’t afford.)
Also, LaBellaDonna, way to speak from a spoiled position of privilege, poor or not. Childcare is NOT a minor expense, even a short term babysitter can be expensive. And if you’re barely scraping by, finding $20 for a babysitter so you can go to the doctor might mean not being able to feed your family. Children DO involve many more minor expenses, and adding one more on top of actual honest-to-god neccessities like formula and food can be wildly destructive.
Seriously people. Behavior issues aside, it’s not a question of paying for other people’s day care, because really? You’re not, and don’t try to tell anyone that you are. Have a little class, will you?
You’re paying taxes and the like for the right to live in a first world society that at least tries not let children die of starvation and disease, that at least pays lip service to the idea that babies should be have enough to eat even when their moms can’t afford to feed them, and does something to attempt to keep it’s poorest citizens from starving in the street. Because that’s what we call being a frakking human being.
I really hope most of the people who have commented on this post have been sterilized. Because if any of you uptight, anal retentive yuppies have children or could ever have children, they will need massive amounts of therapy just to survive your fascist iideal of parenting nirvana. Or, alternately, they will be worse than the children you describe, because none of you have any idea what it is like to have children. A child would mean you might have to sacrifice and care about another person more than you care about yourself. For some of you, i think that is a foreign concept.
I would suspect that many of you were just as ill behaved at times when you were kids as some of the children you describe. Yet you sing the tired refrain “why can’t they be like we were? PERFECT in every way!”
And, yes, I have a child. She is wonderful and well behaved most of the time. But she is certainly not perfect, no child is. You people have had 18-40 years or more to adjust to your feelings and emotions. Kids have not had that benefit.
This original post was highly inappropriate and offensive. The responses are even worse.
Many of you really need to go and see someone to work on your anger issues.
Before this turns into too much of a flame war, I can see both sides of the babysitter kerfuffle. I’m not a mother yet, but am a mother-to-be, and can sympathize with both sides.
That being said, some parents, as soon as they are amongst other adults, just seem to expect everybody else to watch over their kids while they have a “break.” I’m sorry, but unless you have specifically arranged for someone to watch your kid, you are still responsible for that kid, regardless of how many other adults are present.
My sister and I were out to dinner at a really nice restaurant awhile back — she can only afford a sitter maybe twice a year, and so was really looking forward to this dinner. And sure enough, the couple at the table next to us had brought their (pre-school age) children who were whining and throwing things and running around the restaurant the entire time. Who had fun? The kids weren’t having fun — it was way past their bedtime (about 9pm by this time) and they were bored silly. I felt sorry for them. They would have had a lot more fun at home with a babysitter, their jammies, a grilled cheese sandwich, and a Wiggles DVD. My sister and I didn’t have fun. If she’d wanted to spend the evening with kids, she could have just stayed home and saved the money. And did the parents have fun? How can you enjoy yourself with your kids running around, whining and making a scene? Are you that oblivious?
I’m not going to say not to have kids if you can’t afford a babysitter. That’s a bit much — people’s fortunes can change drastically from one year to the next. But I WILL say that when our kid arrives, if we want to go out to a fancy restaurant and can’t afford a sitter, then we’ll just forgo the fancy restaurant for another time. I would never dream of taking my kid to a fancy restaurant until they’re a certain age, and until they’ve proven themselves capable of behaving properly. Anything else is just painful and upsetting for the parents, the kid, and everybody else in the restaurant.
Unfortunately, a lot of adults are lacking in both social skills and common sense. And there are no parenting licenses that require these two things before procreating. :) So, the cycle continues — clueless, rude parents tend to raise clueless, rude children. And they’re doing such a disservice to their kids, because as we’ve seen here, it’s the kids who bear the brunt of everybody’s ire. But if they aren’t taught differently, what can you expect?
One other “when our kid arrives” note: my husband and I have already advised our family and friends that if our kid is acting up and we don’t see it, to feel thoroughly free to scold them and to tell us about it. Our neighbourhood was like that when I was growing up. If a neighbour saw me misbehaving, she’d give me hell, tell my mother, and then my mother would give me hell. It takes a village, no? ; )
I too, though I love this blog and Plumcake and Francesca, am really upset by this post. I don’t expect every post to be to my taste but this one was really hateful, especially to small people who are born self centered and oblivious to others’ needs and require training over many years to be civilized. It is not their fault if they don’t get it, it is the parents. Yes, they can be very annoying, but if they are under 10 or so, please rank on their parents, not the kids.
Also, keep in mind that these ankle biters are going to be changing your briefs and driving your elder van and doing your health care in your old age- new generations are needed to run the world when we are no longer mentally and physically able to do so. You will be grateful someday that some people did have kids and raised them to the best of their abilities.
To step aside from the main topic at hand … what’s your deal with absinthe, Plummy? My mister’s just discovered the stuff and I find it quite lovely. Plus, it’s impossible to make a genuine Sazerac without it.
Interestingly enough, what I’m reading is quipping not directed at *kids*, but the parents… indulgent parents who don’t understand that their kids will eventually have to compete on the global job market. (And they will already be at a disadvantage because most European and Asian kids learn how to do math, unlike the US kids I see in my classroom.)
I travel a lot and cannot help but notice is that whenever I’m in a restaurant in Europe, the kids (and dogs!) are well behaved- sitting in their seats without a video game, even if the dinner goes late, and, most shocking of all, they eat the same meal as their parents***. And gosh, European parents don’t have to buy Town and Country behemouths so that their kids can have a TV for roadtrips.
Yes, all children can have tantrums now and then (and I had a few). But there’s a difference between the occasional and constant tantrum. Maybe they’ll grow out of it, maybe not. For parents of the latter, hope y’all have fun converting your basement into a living space for your beautiful boomerang baby!
***And what’s up with the trend of prepping kids their own meal, separate of what the grownups are eating? I should have invested in the companies that make hot dogs and chicken tenders, because that’s all some kids seem to eat.
<p>I am disgusted by the lack of compassion shown in this post and many of the replies. By all means, criticize parents who make no effort to control or discipline their children, but keep in mind that you have no idea what the underlying situation is in that family. </p>
<p>I have a beautiful, funny, five-year-old who has developmental delays and autism spectrum disorder. At times, she can be a “screamer.” No amount of discipline will change that, in fact it would only make it worse. I haven’t eaten in a nice restaurant or shopped at Nordstrom for five years. There are, however, certain errands that cannot be avoided, like going to the grocery store. Even if my kid is having a tantrum, I still need to buy milk and eggs. </p>
<p>I know I’m supposed to feel badly that my child is upsetting privileged childless people from their peaceful perusal of the Lean Cuisine entrees; I’ve got bigger problems to worry about. God forbid you ever have to walk a mile in my shoes.</p>
Jen,
“And how can you actually stop having children you can’t afford without freaking family planning/birth control that you need to get through a doctor?”
Condoms.
“who needs a damn nurse practitioner lecturing you about how you really should be getting a babysitter you can’t afford for your children you can’t afford”
No lecture. Just a request to not bring children in for your pap smear.
Some people don’t understand tongue-in-cheek humor. Others don’t understand that they are not entitled just because they choose to procreate. I wanted children. I don’t have them because I was never in a position to afford them and had a now ex-husband who was not, as I discovered, fatherhood material. For those that want to go out to nice restaurants, if you can’t afford a babysitter, co-op! Get together with some friends and trade childcare services for dinners, doctor appts, or other outtings. My sisiters and brothers (all with children) did and it worked. I’m the oldest of five. We were not allowed to act out in public. We knew what behavior was expected. Failure to behave as expected resulted in punishment. Get over yourselves, discpline your children, and quit blaming everyone except yourself if your kid is out of control. An out of control child will be a criminal teenager.
The op didn’t offend me in the least. It was clearly tongue-in-cheek and just mean spirited enough to be funny.
But the comments are another matter.
I’d really love to be a fly on the wall when those of you who feel YOU’D be perfect parents are smacked upside the head with a little thing we like to call reality. Because if you don’t have kids you don’t know jack.
Let me repeat, if you don’t have kids you don’t know jack. I don’t care how perfect a child you remember yourself as being (aside: ha), your parents were or your sisters, cousins and friends are. It is a humbling experience, raising another human being, and a long one and there are going to be bad days. You WILL bribe your children to behave, you WILL let them watch a little too much television to get a moment’s peace. Try a little compassion because it may be you some day with the hellish children at the grocery store.
Speaking of high horses, La Bella Donna, I agree with what you’re saying re those who aren’t prepared having children but has it occurred to you that the women at one point could afford a babysitter and now can’t? There is a little something going on now called a recession, you might want to read up on it.
I’m going to preface this comment by stating that I am childless, intend to stay that way*, and don’t particularly like children.
That said, I have no problem with children when they act up. I can handle a fair amount of screaming, seat kicking, running around, etc. My problem is with their parents who put their kids (especially babies and toddlers) in situations where the kid can’t help but act up. I understand that you can’t always find/afford a sitter, or it’s a family outing and you can’t leave the baby behind, or you need to travel somewhere. That’s not the point. The point is being unprepared for it or taking your kid somewhere where the kid will clearly become bored, irate, tired, or hungry, and not doing anything to offset any of these situations.
Example: museums. This confuses me because it does not seem that kids under a certain age(let’s say 2.5) get anything out of being in a stuffy art museum or the like. I get that it’s probably well intentioned, but if you’re going to drag your two year old through an art gallery, don’t keep dragging him along when he clearly needs some down time or some water, or he’s whining that his feet hurt and he wants to sit down. And please, bring snacks. Most museums don’t allow food in the exhibition halls, but what’s to stop you from stepping out into the coat check area or something and giving the kid some crackers or juice? Or taking advantage of the onsite cafes that lots of museums have? Sure they’re pricey, but I’d think a 4 dollar bottle of juice is worth making sure your kid’s not miserable. The other month, I was in a museum and was shocked at how many people with strollers there were, but okay, if they’re gonna bring toddlers, that’s their business. I was even more shocked, however, at how so many of the parents ignored their babies/toddlers despite it being pretty obvious that the kids did not want to be there (“Mommy! I want to go home!” and the accompanying 5 minutes of crying seem like a pretty big tip off, but then again, I don’t know much about children, so I might be wrong). Sure, museums could implement childless policies, but that’s not really fair to the kids whose parents actually try to make it an enjoyable experience for them, by packing a small toy or some cookies along. An really, if your kid throws a tantrum in the ticket line, before you’ve actually bought tickets, you might want to consider going somewhere else. (One dad did just that. When his 2 year old started screaming, he ducked under the barricade and took the kid elsewhere to calm him down. Yet a couple of other parents, in the same situation, just continued to stand in line, ignoring their kids.)
Then come operas, plays, ballets, concerts, and movies. For the first four, people are paying lots of money to have a night out, and, while I have seen some amazingly behaved children at all of the above, and think its great that parents want to introduce their kids to high culture, there are some common sense limits. Like setting a good example for their kids by not talking during a musical performance. If you and you spouse aren’t talking, little Billy and Mary aren’t going to be either, and all the folks around you will be ecstatic about actually being able to hear the performers instead of your ill-informed explanation of what is going on in the plot. If it’s something your kid might not understand, explain it to them before or after the show. If your kid is talking, don’t encourage them by starting up your own conversations (though this applies to childless folks too, it’s just more salient with kids in my experience, since they tend to be a bit louder and not really grasp the whole “whispering” concept). Also exhibit some common sense as to where you’re taking them. Like that 5 hour opera you’ve been meaning to see that running from 8 to 1 at night? That’s not a good place for a 5 year old. Take them to a matinee performance instead. Or like not bringing your 6-year-old to see Equus. Sure Harry Potter may have been in it, and you may be very open with your kid about sex, but I don’t know about you, but I know sure as heck that I wouldn’t want to be explaining bestiality to a kid. Or that one scene where the performers are simulating sex. (The real question is why the heck the ushers let in so many children in when there was a clear age limit indicated on the tickets, but the parents are still at fault for this one). Last but not least, movies. Kids may get loud and whiny at movies, but that probably just means that they really don’t want to see James Bond shoot people full of holes mid-coitus. And they’ll probably have nightmares from that guy from Saw. If you’re going to take your kid to see a movie, it’s really not that hard to figure out that 5 year old Susie would rather watch a Disney film than that war movie you’ve been dying to see, and 3 year old Bobby will have nightmares from that slasher flick. The ratings system, however draconian and nonsensical it may be, exists for a reason, and while I don’t really care if you take your 10 year old to see something not exactly age appropriate because most likely they’ll stay quiet and may very well be mature enough to handle it, traumatizing the little ones is a bad idea, especially if you can always wait another couple months to see the movie on DVD if you can’t afford a sitter (especially since it’s cheaper to rent than to go to a theater.)
Oh, and then we have public transit. Including but not limited to trains, buses, airplanes, subways, trolleys, and trams, and their waiting areas. I once had the unpleasant experience of a 4 hour train ride with a mother who did NOTHING to stop her small sons (I’d guess maybe 2 and 3) from screaming and crying the whole way from New York to Boston. Half a train car away, I could hear them over my headphones, and see as they raced down the aisle. I did not understand this in the least, since the little girl (about their age) in the row across from me was quietly colouring in her colouring book, napping, and enjoying her snacks the whole way. Is it really so hard to engage your kid in a game of I,Spy or read them a story, or give them some paper to draw on, or provide them with snacks, a small toy, or just some conversation? I’m by no means an expert on child care, but these seem like a commonsense formula: keep your kid happy and distracted and they will behave. Ignoring your kid while they cry isn’t really helping anyone. (This reminds me of an incident on the subway, where, for an entire 20 minutes, a little boy of maybe two was shrieking. So loudly that the whole car was staring at him and his caregiver. Including the guy next to me whose rap music was so loud that I could make out all of the lyrics and the girl across the isle with her pop music turned up even louder. The woman with him completely ignored the child, who was having a tantrum on the floor, and calmly proceeded to produce a gallon of milk from her shopping bag and chug it, while everyone stared at her in horror. I had no choice but to witness this whole incident since I was on a tight schedule, but a lot of people got off the subway and stood waiting for the next one because it was just that loud.)
So yeah, I have nothing against kids. I don’t want them myself, but I’m not going to blame them for misbehaving when its their parents fault for not doing anything about it or putting them in stressful situations. As for kids with disorders, I do realize how hard it is to live with them (I’ve done some volunteer work with them in the past) but it’s still all about trying to make the situation less stressful for the kid. And really, I’m much less likely to think badly of parents who at least try unsuccessfully to deal with bad or stressed out behavior, then those who just ignore their children.
*To the poster who told all of us “uptight, anal retentive yuppies” to get sterilized, I’ve been trying. Since you seem to think it’s so easy, can you please direct me to a doctor who a) respects that it’s MY choice and not theirs whether I have children or not, b) respects the fact that a woman can still be a complete person without kids, c) doesn’t act in a condescending manner, d) is a well qualified and safe gynecological surgeon, and most importantly e) will actually perform the surgery that I would be paying 4-5k out of pocket for? Because that would be great.
As the owner of an upscale restaurant, I find it appalling when people insist on bringing their kids in. Do babysitters not exist anymore??
We are so clearly NOT child-friendly (do you have a kids menu? NO Do you have booster seats? NO and on and on) and our restaurant is so clearly NOT ‘family style’ I have realized that whoever still insists on bringing their is denser than granite.
I did, on one occasion, go up to the parents and offer to duct-tape their child to the chair. Sadly, they declined.
@klee: You’d think people would clue in. And really, is the kid going to enjoy sitting at a boring old adult restaurant for the duration of the 8-course tasting menu? There are perfectly good mid-range restaurants that offer a few amenities for the kids, but are less seizure-inducing than Chuck E. Cheese.
Now, if we could only do something about the grownups who yammer loudly into their cellphones during the duration of a dinner at a nice restaurant. Duct-tape, you say?
I’d like to propose a truce and an exchange of responsibilities between both sides of the fence. (No rights, no privileges, just responsibilities. On both sides.)
For those who are out in public without children – regardless of whether those children are at home, in the future, or will never exist – you have the responsibility of tolerance. Of understanding those children are independent human beings who can and will act of their own free will at times, often at inappropriate times, and it can and will be unpleasant. Of offering assistance where appropriate, and of allowing the child’s caretaker the space and time to deal with the issue even if it does mean the noise/mess/whatever doesn’t stop immediately. And NOT giving the child’s caretaker the evil eye while they’ve already got their hands full.
You also get the additional responsibility of recognizing that if you go somewhere that is child-friendly, you are very likely to encounter children there.
For those who are out in public with children, you have the responsibility of appropriate planning and reaction. The responsibility of planning includes taking into account bedtimes and appropriateness of the settings for the ages of children in question. The responsibility of reaction means doing everything possible to stop the noise/mess/whatever as quickly as possible up to and including the physical removal of said child from the circumstances even if it means inconvenience on your part.
This seems like a reasonable exchange to me.
I made the decision quite early on (in my late teens) that I would never, ever, have children. Thanks to serious mental health issues I knew that I was the LAST person who ever needed to breed (and seriously, if you have to have a fracking license to have a dog, shouldn’t you have one to have a kid?). Any child of mine would end up keeping every therapist in the greater metropolitan area in vacation money for life. I pushed long and hard to make sure I was snipped to greatly derease the chance of an “oops” (and seriously, who tells their child he or she is an oops – besides my ex-mpther-in-law?).
Now, I was not a perfect child; dear gods, given the mental health issues I’m still surprised I was never strapped to the tetherball pole with burning brands piled around my feet. But I still had rules and I was still expected to follow them and I was also expected to know the consequences if I didn’t. I didn’t call my mother at work 400 times a day unless emergency-room-level bleeding was involved. I didn’t take a doll or snacks to church. Begging for treats/toys/etc. at a store was equivalent to begging for brain damage (my parents didn’t raise a hand except when I was very small and did something phenomenally dangerous, but they can – and do – know their way around a disappointed and perturbed child-level discussion). And over the years I’ve watched my brother raise his family: a bigger bunch of whiny, screaming, back-talking brats I’ve yet to encounter. What our parents did could not have been all that remarkable; what did they do that apparently can’t be replicated?
I used to be annoyed by anything “kid”. All the noise, chair-kicking, screaming and stench made me cranking. Thats until my perfectly noisy, nose picking nieces arrived. Amazing how its al so charming now.