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Applying Oneself
The Colic Defense
Saying Something
Thriller
Education: TV & Preschool, Preschool & TV
Crocodile Hunter Felled By Ray
Neither Gods Nor Fools
I wanted to go back and see them together with me ...
Cross
Yakkety Yak Yak Yak
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Oh, Grow Up
It probably wouldn't come too much of a surprise, given the number of comic books, carefully saved young adult novels, toys and candy selections one can find in my house that I have an immature streak. I don't mind this. Someone needs to keep the Good n' Plenty people in business.
Often, especially when I go to the park and watch other parents have what appear to be more "grown up" conversations, I feel a bit like an imposter- someone play acting at being a mother, all living, breathing, shrieking evidence to the contrary. I feel plump and unfashionable, out-of-it and really more kid-like than adult. This isn't much of a set back, really since the amount of "spotting" one must do for a daredevil toddler limits the possibilities for sustained conversation anyway.
But then occasionally something pops up that makes me remember that I am the grown up. I'm not talking about those ridiculous traffic jams on the slide where inevitably some bigger kids want to have a battle where one is a sniper on top shooting at the kid holding the plastic T-rex who tries to climb up the slide while littler children pile up in the middle. I am usually non-confrontational and don't mind watching low-level power struggles, especially among the pre- or barely verbal, but while standing on the grass, my husband pointed out a little savage scene.
Three kids were chasing down a little bird, which was barely managing to flutter a few feet ahead of their stomping feet. It was almost Looney Tunes-esque how close they came to trouncing it. And I had to intercede.
I asked why they were trying to kill the bird. The blonde bad seed of the pack said they just wanted to watch it fly into the trees (which was such a crock I couldn't believe she would even try it on me), and I told her that clearly the bird was terrified and sick and wasn't inclined to fly anywhere and to leave it alone and chase some of the pigeons if they had to terrorize something.
The critter eventually made good its escape, and I was left with a sticky weird feeling. What does it mean to reprimand someone else's children, even gently, even in the service of doing something quite necessary? I have strong feelings about animals and underdogs, so I really had no choice but to step in, but part of me was bracing myself for some mini-skirted mom in cork wedges to come up to me and scold me for raining on her monster's parade. And then. . . And then I don't know what I would have done. But I can certainly imagine an idiotic argument developing.
Surely there is a protocol for this sort of thing. I would be thrilled to know that if my kid were suddenly possessed by some demon and went after small animals that someone would catch him and stop him. But would they? Do people intercede or is it every parent for his or her own kid?
Is it appalling that I haven't really thought about this until now? Does it show too well how I remain a playground novice?
Perhaps. But at least the sparrow lives.
posted by Elise at 5:23 PM
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