Hi.
By any chance would you like to hear about my most despicable, hateful, stressful, abhorrent, absolute worst hour of parenting ever? It happened in 2007. I know that's an awfully long time to wait to complain about it (especially for a whiner like me), but I do have a reason for sharing this particular story now, tonight. It'll all come together by the end of this post.
I'm hoping.
Okay. In June, 2007, Mr. C had taken PG and 9 camping out in New Mexico. The plan was that I would fly with J to meet up with them in Colorado Springs, CO to visit some friends. At the time J was 10 months old, so I was a little leery of flying with him by myself. I wisely took my mother along to help me. The month prior I spent reading and researching the FAA rules and tips for flying with children, as well as gathering lots of advice from friends who'd traveled with their children. I learned that a) I should be prepared for anything b) I needed to dress him in little slip-off sandals for security and c) that it was best to book a flight close to his naptime, if possible.
Done, done, and done.
The day of the flight, I entered the terminal with 1 collapsable stroller, 1 overstuffed diaper bag, 1 helpful grandmother, 1 ten month old toddler who, by the way, had just learned to walk two weeks before, and a whole lot of false-bravado.
I had a plan. Oh yes, I had a plan. My plan was that I was going to let him run free in the terminal (with me following him around, of course), so that he would exhaust his energy. Then, just before we boarded, I planned to give him a bottle (one of the 3 extra that I had packed), so that he would have a nice, full, sleepy tummy by the time we boarded. Then I planned that he would snuggle quietly in my arms and sleep for the duration of the flight.
That was my plan.
Here's what happened: Everything went great in the terminal. I followed him while he tottered around, flirting with everyone and charming them with his big brown eyes and curly golden locks. I gave him a bottle right before we boarded, while chatting with an elderly couple who had approached me to say what a sweet little boy he was.
Then we got on the plane and the plane.... well, for whatever inconvenient reason, it sat on the tarmac.
And it sat. And it sat.
That was the least of my worries, because as it turned out, this boy of mine had no intention of going to sleep. It had never occurred to me that airplanes with their rows of windows and people and lights and mysterious buttons everywhere could be so exciting to a toddler. To distract him, I read all 5 of his favorite board books and ended up giving him the 2 extra emergency bottles, all before take off. By the time we finally got in the air, the blond little cherub that had amused everyone in terminal had launched himself into a full blown Jack-Jack attack. I was mortified horrified completely stressed out. He screamed, he scratched, he kicked, then he screamed some more. My mother and I tried singing, rocking, shh-ing- everything short of muffling him. And believe me, I wanted to try muffling him (as did probably everyone else on the plane), but had just enough of my wits left to know that that wouldn't end well.
By the time the plane pulled into the Vegas airport an hour later for our layover, I was a stressed out mess. Actually, that is a HUGE understatement. Let me paint a better picture for you:
J, in his tantrum, had pulled his signature move of clawing at his skin- something he did all the time when he was an infant and his skin allergies were bugging him- so he had blood (BLOOD!) streaked across his cheeks. As for me, besides having his tears and snot smeared all over my shirt, sweat stains down my back, and streaked mascara, I was fighting the ugly cry.
We all know that the only thing uglier than the ugly cry is the face that you make when you're trying to fight off the ugly cry. We all know that, right? It's true.
So, to end this story, J did finally snuggle up to me and sleep through the second leg of the flight (With the help of Benadryl, I am not ashamed to admit. Go ahead, judge me. I dare you.) When we arrived in Colorado, I informed my husband that I would not EVER get on a plane with J again until he was at least 10 years old, and I have yet to change my mind about this. We refer to the above described incident as "Jake on a Plane", and I hope that when he gets older and has kids of his own, that they are just as terrible and rotten on their first plane ride as he was on his.
I'm serious. I'm holding on to this grudge.
So here's why I told you this story: Today I read this article on the Today website about a couple who were kicked off a plane because their 2 year old was throwing a tantrum.
http://todaytravel.today.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2012/03/12/10651930-family-removed-from-plane-due-to-unruly-toddler-wanted-a-little-bit-of-humanity
Now look. Maybe the airline was too aggressive in their actions against the family, or maybe the child really was posing a security threat with her tantrum. Maybe that toddler was just having a bad moment, or maybe she's always a total brat- I don't know. That's not here or there. What I'm interested in pointing out is that while reading through the comments underneath the article, I really GOT for the first time, the level of prejudice that our society has against children.
Before I get into this any deeper, let me explain to you the point of view I'm coming from. I'm a parent with fairly high expectations of her own kids. Basically, I feel like if my kids are not a pleasure for other adults to be around the majority of the time, then I am failing in some way. I believe kids should be polite, and I definitely think they should be respectful- but I'm raising them this way because I feel that's how adults should be as well. One of my biggest parenting pet peeves is when people excuse poor behavior by saying "Oh, they're just being kids." I always want to say, "Um, yes.... but it's our job to teach them when that kind of behavior is not okay!" So I'm kind of a hard ass that way. Yet, when I was reading through the comments on the above mentioned article, I was disturbed at the outright hatred being voiced towards children and their parents. What's more, I began to feel angry at all the people who insist that parents should "control their children".
People. You can control your cars. You can control your bank account. You can control your calorie intake (or maybe you can't). But one thing I've learned as a parent, is that children can not be controlled. They are independent beings. They have their own minds, their own thoughts, their own mobility, and their own ability to speak, move about, cry, laugh, throw tantrums, tell jokes, laugh, be rowdy, or be calm. You can influence them strongly by whatever means you choose, may that be modeling, threatening, bribing, rewarding, or cajoling. You can prepare for or anticipate their reactions to a situation. You can set limits, you can set boundaries, and you can set consequences. In fact, if you're smart, that's what you'll do. (Read that again if you didn't catch it the first time, because that's key.) But no matter what, your kid has free will to chose how he's going to react to your expectations. Think about it- try to recall a bad decision you made as a child. Were your parents really in control of that decision, or did you make it independently?
Furthermore, when we're talking about children 3 and under, the game is a little different. These guys don't operate with the same set of logic that we do. It's one of those things that make them sweet and their perspectives funny- until they're on a plane and start throwing a fit. Boundaries, limits, and consequences will do you no good in the middle of an airplane, or in the middle of a grocery store, or the bank, or library, or wherever you happen to be. The best thing you can do in those situations is to leave and pray that there are understanding people around you.
Which brings me back to my point- prejudice against children in society. I've had my fair share of judgmental looks from people in public. I don't know a parent who hasn't. What I don't get is society's expectation of children. Someone with a gentler perspective in the article's comments brought up that we wouldn't ask an elderly person or a handicapped person to disembark a plane because of their limits, yet we expect babies and toddlers to have the same abilities as adults when it comes to handling their emotions? And what's more, we're going to blame the parents when babies act like babies?
Listen, I know people don't like being around screaming children. When I was on that plane with J, I felt terrible that everyone was subject to his tantrum. That was where 100% of my stress was coming from. If it had been only me and him on that plane by ourselves, I wouldn't have even broken a sweat, having had dealt with plenty of tantrums on our home turf. However, I need to point out that children are part of our society. We all need to get used to it. People are so loud in their advocacy for tolerance of all kinds of sects of society- gay, the elderly, African Americans, physically disabled, mentally disabled, etc. What about children? Why is okay to voice intolerance against them?
I know, especially having been a teacher, that often times children's behavior is a reflection of their parent's skills as parents. I knew that when I had a kind, compassionate, intelligent student that the chances were he/she had great parents, and that when I had a belligerent disobedient kid, his parents probably weren't so good at the whole "rules and consequences" thing. But that's overall. All I'm saying here is that when you see a child misbehaving in public, you are likely not seeing overall. You are seeing a sliver of their day. You are witnessing the child making a bad choice, or a baby just being a baby. So reserve your judgement and grow some tolerance, okay?
Sheesh.
(Oh, I'm just kidding about the sheesh part. I love you guys for reading- all 20 of you. Really. I appreciate it. Thank you and have a good night!)
By any chance would you like to hear about my most despicable, hateful, stressful, abhorrent, absolute worst hour of parenting ever? It happened in 2007. I know that's an awfully long time to wait to complain about it (especially for a whiner like me), but I do have a reason for sharing this particular story now, tonight. It'll all come together by the end of this post.
I'm hoping.
Okay. In June, 2007, Mr. C had taken PG and 9 camping out in New Mexico. The plan was that I would fly with J to meet up with them in Colorado Springs, CO to visit some friends. At the time J was 10 months old, so I was a little leery of flying with him by myself. I wisely took my mother along to help me. The month prior I spent reading and researching the FAA rules and tips for flying with children, as well as gathering lots of advice from friends who'd traveled with their children. I learned that a) I should be prepared for anything b) I needed to dress him in little slip-off sandals for security and c) that it was best to book a flight close to his naptime, if possible.
Done, done, and done.
The day of the flight, I entered the terminal with 1 collapsable stroller, 1 overstuffed diaper bag, 1 helpful grandmother, 1 ten month old toddler who, by the way, had just learned to walk two weeks before, and a whole lot of false-bravado.
I had a plan. Oh yes, I had a plan. My plan was that I was going to let him run free in the terminal (with me following him around, of course), so that he would exhaust his energy. Then, just before we boarded, I planned to give him a bottle (one of the 3 extra that I had packed), so that he would have a nice, full, sleepy tummy by the time we boarded. Then I planned that he would snuggle quietly in my arms and sleep for the duration of the flight.
That was my plan.
Here's what happened: Everything went great in the terminal. I followed him while he tottered around, flirting with everyone and charming them with his big brown eyes and curly golden locks. I gave him a bottle right before we boarded, while chatting with an elderly couple who had approached me to say what a sweet little boy he was.
Then we got on the plane and the plane.... well, for whatever inconvenient reason, it sat on the tarmac.
And it sat. And it sat.
That was the least of my worries, because as it turned out, this boy of mine had no intention of going to sleep. It had never occurred to me that airplanes with their rows of windows and people and lights and mysterious buttons everywhere could be so exciting to a toddler. To distract him, I read all 5 of his favorite board books and ended up giving him the 2 extra emergency bottles, all before take off. By the time we finally got in the air, the blond little cherub that had amused everyone in terminal had launched himself into a full blown Jack-Jack attack. I was mortified horrified completely stressed out. He screamed, he scratched, he kicked, then he screamed some more. My mother and I tried singing, rocking, shh-ing- everything short of muffling him. And believe me, I wanted to try muffling him (as did probably everyone else on the plane), but had just enough of my wits left to know that that wouldn't end well.
By the time the plane pulled into the Vegas airport an hour later for our layover, I was a stressed out mess. Actually, that is a HUGE understatement. Let me paint a better picture for you:
J, in his tantrum, had pulled his signature move of clawing at his skin- something he did all the time when he was an infant and his skin allergies were bugging him- so he had blood (BLOOD!) streaked across his cheeks. As for me, besides having his tears and snot smeared all over my shirt, sweat stains down my back, and streaked mascara, I was fighting the ugly cry.
We all know that the only thing uglier than the ugly cry is the face that you make when you're trying to fight off the ugly cry. We all know that, right? It's true.
So, to end this story, J did finally snuggle up to me and sleep through the second leg of the flight (With the help of Benadryl, I am not ashamed to admit. Go ahead, judge me. I dare you.) When we arrived in Colorado, I informed my husband that I would not EVER get on a plane with J again until he was at least 10 years old, and I have yet to change my mind about this. We refer to the above described incident as "Jake on a Plane", and I hope that when he gets older and has kids of his own, that they are just as terrible and rotten on their first plane ride as he was on his.
I'm serious. I'm holding on to this grudge.
So here's why I told you this story: Today I read this article on the Today website about a couple who were kicked off a plane because their 2 year old was throwing a tantrum.
http://todaytravel.today.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2012/03/12/10651930-family-removed-from-plane-due-to-unruly-toddler-wanted-a-little-bit-of-humanity
Now look. Maybe the airline was too aggressive in their actions against the family, or maybe the child really was posing a security threat with her tantrum. Maybe that toddler was just having a bad moment, or maybe she's always a total brat- I don't know. That's not here or there. What I'm interested in pointing out is that while reading through the comments underneath the article, I really GOT for the first time, the level of prejudice that our society has against children.
Before I get into this any deeper, let me explain to you the point of view I'm coming from. I'm a parent with fairly high expectations of her own kids. Basically, I feel like if my kids are not a pleasure for other adults to be around the majority of the time, then I am failing in some way. I believe kids should be polite, and I definitely think they should be respectful- but I'm raising them this way because I feel that's how adults should be as well. One of my biggest parenting pet peeves is when people excuse poor behavior by saying "Oh, they're just being kids." I always want to say, "Um, yes.... but it's our job to teach them when that kind of behavior is not okay!" So I'm kind of a hard ass that way. Yet, when I was reading through the comments on the above mentioned article, I was disturbed at the outright hatred being voiced towards children and their parents. What's more, I began to feel angry at all the people who insist that parents should "control their children".
People. You can control your cars. You can control your bank account. You can control your calorie intake (or maybe you can't). But one thing I've learned as a parent, is that children can not be controlled. They are independent beings. They have their own minds, their own thoughts, their own mobility, and their own ability to speak, move about, cry, laugh, throw tantrums, tell jokes, laugh, be rowdy, or be calm. You can influence them strongly by whatever means you choose, may that be modeling, threatening, bribing, rewarding, or cajoling. You can prepare for or anticipate their reactions to a situation. You can set limits, you can set boundaries, and you can set consequences. In fact, if you're smart, that's what you'll do. (Read that again if you didn't catch it the first time, because that's key.) But no matter what, your kid has free will to chose how he's going to react to your expectations. Think about it- try to recall a bad decision you made as a child. Were your parents really in control of that decision, or did you make it independently?
Furthermore, when we're talking about children 3 and under, the game is a little different. These guys don't operate with the same set of logic that we do. It's one of those things that make them sweet and their perspectives funny- until they're on a plane and start throwing a fit. Boundaries, limits, and consequences will do you no good in the middle of an airplane, or in the middle of a grocery store, or the bank, or library, or wherever you happen to be. The best thing you can do in those situations is to leave and pray that there are understanding people around you.
Which brings me back to my point- prejudice against children in society. I've had my fair share of judgmental looks from people in public. I don't know a parent who hasn't. What I don't get is society's expectation of children. Someone with a gentler perspective in the article's comments brought up that we wouldn't ask an elderly person or a handicapped person to disembark a plane because of their limits, yet we expect babies and toddlers to have the same abilities as adults when it comes to handling their emotions? And what's more, we're going to blame the parents when babies act like babies?
Listen, I know people don't like being around screaming children. When I was on that plane with J, I felt terrible that everyone was subject to his tantrum. That was where 100% of my stress was coming from. If it had been only me and him on that plane by ourselves, I wouldn't have even broken a sweat, having had dealt with plenty of tantrums on our home turf. However, I need to point out that children are part of our society. We all need to get used to it. People are so loud in their advocacy for tolerance of all kinds of sects of society- gay, the elderly, African Americans, physically disabled, mentally disabled, etc. What about children? Why is okay to voice intolerance against them?
I know, especially having been a teacher, that often times children's behavior is a reflection of their parent's skills as parents. I knew that when I had a kind, compassionate, intelligent student that the chances were he/she had great parents, and that when I had a belligerent disobedient kid, his parents probably weren't so good at the whole "rules and consequences" thing. But that's overall. All I'm saying here is that when you see a child misbehaving in public, you are likely not seeing overall. You are seeing a sliver of their day. You are witnessing the child making a bad choice, or a baby just being a baby. So reserve your judgement and grow some tolerance, okay?
Sheesh.
(Oh, I'm just kidding about the sheesh part. I love you guys for reading- all 20 of you. Really. I appreciate it. Thank you and have a good night!)
Tacy, Good post. Here's something that happened to me just last Sat. Walking Myah across the parking lot at the mall she decided she didn't want me holding her hand. She threw her little fit and I just held on and kept walking. As we got to the car a older lady (younger than me) approched and said something of which all I heard was poor baby. I was now prepared for battle. You know your dad. Well, good thing mom was there with me. turns out the woman was just being sweet and asked if she could give the poor baby a candy to help calm her down.
ReplyDeleteDad.
Tacy,
ReplyDeleteGreat Post. I think every Mom has a story of their child being a child and having people have a negative reaction. Thank you for giving the parents and the children a voice.
I loved reading your perspective. We were discussing that story at dinner last night. I've been lucky flying with the baby so far, but now that V is nearly 2 and completely controlled by her Id, I know it will be even more stressful. I hope this doesn't start a trend on airlines. While I hate to sit in front of a little seat kicker, I know they can't control themselves. The travelers who get filthy looks from me are the adults who can't hold onto their own seat backs to get in and out, the ones who put on perfume or paint their nails. There are a lot of adults out there who should just stay home.
ReplyDeleteThank you! You bring up a good point that I had originally put it, but then edited out. There are PUH-LENTY of adults who are rude and obnoxious, yet it's the babies acting their age and the parents caring for them that get judged? Society is so ridiculous.
DeleteThanks for reading (and commenting!)