Baby & I went for our nightly walk around the ‘hood last night and, when we got to the park about 7:00, we stopped for a few minutes to watch a girls’ soccer team practice.
This morning, we just got back from our morning walk around the ‘hood and found the exact same soccer team practicing. 13 hours+ later. Same uniforms, same mom cars, same coaches. Wow that is one long practice!
I’m sitting here staring at my monitor ready to write a post. Why? Not because I have anything to say but because I have, for the 1st time today, 20 minutes or so to myself before I collapse in exhaustion.
Between working a full-time job and taking care of a 10 month old without a single full night of sleep in more than 10 months, I feel drained. Creatively. And physically. Spent, in every way. The time to write & the moments of inspiration just do not coincide. And when I do have time, like now, I flip to “inspiration, saved for later” and find…nothing.
Excessively permissive parenting seems to be a theme this weekend.
I just came back from Target, and in the baby section was a woman and her son, maybe 2 1/2 years old. Her son had taken something off the shelf and was running around with it in a game of Chase Me! He thought it was delightful, but the mom…not so much. So what did she do? She repeated “[Name], stop that.” At least 26 times.
I stopped counting after the first few dozen times. I don’t mean to sound like old-fashioned here, but hey, why not? I’m Officially Old™, anyway. But back in my day, no parent would have let their child get away with that. Do you know why your son wasn’t stopping it? Because your threats and warnings were…idle. They lacked any consequences and I guess you’re too tired to make an effort to redirect his attention to something else. If it didn’t work the first 20 times to tell him to stop, what makes you think that continually requesting that he stop will work?
I was just at the library with Baby, and she was in her stroller just quietly watching everyone while I thumbed through a few books. I looked up to see that some 3 year old was pawing at her face with both hands. “Be gentle,” I said, wondering where the F this child’s parent was. Her mom piped up, “Just so you know, ma’am, I’ve never known my daughter to be anything BUT gentle!” Then she spent the next ten minutes making a show of telling her daughter, “Yes, I know you want to play with that baby. But that MOMMY doesn’t WANT you to play with the baby.”
Clearly I’m the bad guy here. I decided not to point out to her that ‘Be gentle’ was polite code for what I was really thinking.
News flash: Just because you think it’s okay for your daughter not to exercise any impulse control doesn’t mean others have to accommodate your excessively permissive parenting style.
I am devastated to hear of Adam Yauch’s death. The Beastie Boys have always been one of my all-time favorite bands. They were my gateway to hip hop, Licensed to Ill was the soundtrack of 6th grade, and the rest of their albums have been the soundtrack of my life ever since. I had tickets to see them with my high school BFF in 2000, but that was the summer they canceled because Mike D broke his shoulder, so I never got to see them then. And now I will never get to see them, at least all of them and fulfill that lifelong dream.