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Sealed Lips Redux
"That's one of the tragedies of this life," says John D. Hackkensacker III (played by ultra-charmer Rudy Vallee) in The Palm Beach Story, "that the men who are most in need of a beating up are always enormous."
I maintain that lament and can add one, that the people most in need of shame are inevitably selectively deaf.
Just now, on the street, I nearly bit a woman who decided that the moment when I was trying to wrestle with a slavering terrier, shouting child and bags that refused to give up the container of cereal I know I tucked into one of them, to say: "Excuse me! Excuse me! His legs are getting too much sun." I informed her that my kid had sun block on (for all the good it does) but flew into a private rage. What the hell was I supposed to do if he didn't have any protection? Throw the dog on top of his little legs? Rip off my shirt and tuck it around his tan little limbs? (This is something the whole of downtown Manhattan should be glad I didn't consider.
But really, really. Here is just a little public service announcement. Unless a child is in some kind of unbelievably savage danger, give the parent a bit of credit and mind your own business. If the kid gets a little burnt, you won't be the one dealing with it. If he falls down and skins his knee, it won't be the first time. If he wants to hold a whole apple turnover and smear it all over himself, you won't be the one doing laundry because you will never see these people or this kid again. For that, everyone is grateful.
I'm not immune to noticing things, but I have a modicum of self-control. I didn't, for instance, tell the woman in the thin red dress walking in front of me this afternoon that perhaps it wasn't the best idea to put on underpants with such dark stripes. Maybe that was her point.
Perhaps I am too prickly. Not being particularly temperate, I'm used to living with being irritated and quietly intolerant and disguise it well, but nothing gets my dander up quite as quickly as suggesting that I am falling down as a parent. That's a special privilege that only I have. I maintain so few that I won't give this one up.
This syndrome kicked in as soon as Felix was home from the hospital. I snapped at my grandfather (88 at the time) who thought he could tell me that I wasn't holding Felix correctly; got chilly with people who told me that I shouldn't drink coffee and nurse; snarled at strangers who psychically decided that Felix thought he was too cold; and I still get crap from people who think he ought to wear a hat more often.
(He won't. It's my business that he won't and that's why I am giving special thanks this summer to the people who invented continuous spray sunblock.)
I locked horns with my husband recently on the subject of "model parents"- he feels the idea that there are competent people out there is comforting while I dislike comparison. I go my own way and it is a way that doesn't involve endless rules or special diets or extreme protocols or delicate routines. If those are for you, that's wonderful, and if it makes you and yours happy, that is all you can ask. . . but keep it to yourself.
posted by Elise at 12:04 PM
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said...
I absolutely hate this kind of thing. Everybody is willing to criticize parents when they're doing a decent job, and yet the truely abused and neglected kids are still being overlooked. No good can come of this.
I'm five months pregnant right now, and my husband and I are openly telling everyone that we hope for a child who eats dirt and jumps out of tall trees when we're not looking. My hope is that if we set the bar low enough, people will just give up on us early on.
7/10/2006 11:41 AM
said...
Actually, I happen to know that even Elise has appreciated a quick, non-judgmental "he's eating sand" spoken by a passing mom who happened to glance over at an opportune moment. It's the judging that does it, at least for me.
7/10/2006 1:06 PM
Meghan said...
Congrats on your restraint. I probably would have bit her.
Yes, I don't think I'd mind a stranger telling me my kid was eating dirt. There is a difference between that and "you should be watching her better, she's eating dirt".
I am so sick of my mother, his mother and other assorted experts telling me that my daughter should be wearing socks (or a hat), needs more sunscreen, would be happier in the stroller than the carrier, should be eating solids by now and on and on. I think if a stranger jumped on my case I probably would bite her.
7/10/2006 9:34 PM
said...
Perhaps I sound a bit cold here, but why do people care? My theory is that they don't really care about the child's welfare, I mean really, how on earth would a stranger's sunburned kid possible affect the nosy person making the comment at all?? but they do it because they are controlling, bossy, interfering people who target someone unlikely to fight back: a parent. I have found that flippant comments work well where I live: Does she have sunscreen on? No, we're working on our base tan. This tends to drive interfering commenters AWAY as they realize I am not going to thank them, fumble frantically for sunscreen, get upset about the ris of skin cancer, etc etc. Parents, put these people in their place!! Or, just ignore them!!
7/11/2006 7:53 AM
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