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jedusorWhen I was waiting in line at the bookstore on Tuesday, the person behind me told her child to hold her place in line. The little girl, who was about four or five years old and dressed in what looked like a Catholic school uniform, clung and said she didn't feel like it. Her mother responded sharply, "It doesn't matter what you feel like. Stay here until I come back." She went and got a notebook from across the store.
I am not a parent. I have no plans to become a parent in the foreseeable future. I have no parenting experience beyond babysitting and my brothers. However, I do have some idea of what is and isn't healthy for children, and telling them that their feelings don't matter falls firmly in the "not healthy" category. Hearing this exchange, I desperately wanted to turn around and shake that woman; tell her that I've been that child and her casual snap affected her daughter in a way that will last, especially if she behaves like that on a regular basis. For all the poor kid knew, the mom was leaving her there for hours, in a strange place, surrounded by strange people.
Of course, I couldn't say anything in that situation, but I've seen people I know doing similar things. I nearly attacked my father when he yelled at his five-year-old stepdaughter for practically nothing, because he was frustrated about something else. I remember being a little kid in the same situation, and that tone of voice making me cry, and trying not to show that I was crying because he would make fun of me for making a big deal over nothing. He didn't understand that a child lives in the present, and when your entire world consists of being unfairly punished, it hurts.
Then there's the meat thing. Mom and Bill feed Lincoln meat. Logically, I understand that he's their child and that the decision is theirs, but I can't help feeling that it's wrong not to let him make the decision for himself when he's old enough. I know that if he decides to stop eating meat, Mom will let him (Bill I'm not so sure about). But I wish I hadn't had that first four years of eating meat. I wish I'd been raised without meat until I was old enough to understand what it was, and make the decision whether to start eating it. The fact that I was eating it without knowing what it was disgusts me. I tell them this, and they brush me off, or ask me what my opinion is when I've already expressed it over and over without their hearing it at all.
Ultimately, I have to let it go. They're going to let Lincoln eat meat at the age of two. Jeffrey is going to take out his anger on people who can't fight back. That woman in the bookstore is going to diminish her daughter's sense of self-worth daily. It's hard to accept, but that's what I have to do.
EDIT: The point of this post is not the meat thing. That is an example of the point of this post, which is parenting decisions and the temptation to attempt to interfere with them.
I am not a parent. I have no plans to become a parent in the foreseeable future. I have no parenting experience beyond babysitting and my brothers. However, I do have some idea of what is and isn't healthy for children, and telling them that their feelings don't matter falls firmly in the "not healthy" category. Hearing this exchange, I desperately wanted to turn around and shake that woman; tell her that I've been that child and her casual snap affected her daughter in a way that will last, especially if she behaves like that on a regular basis. For all the poor kid knew, the mom was leaving her there for hours, in a strange place, surrounded by strange people.
Of course, I couldn't say anything in that situation, but I've seen people I know doing similar things. I nearly attacked my father when he yelled at his five-year-old stepdaughter for practically nothing, because he was frustrated about something else. I remember being a little kid in the same situation, and that tone of voice making me cry, and trying not to show that I was crying because he would make fun of me for making a big deal over nothing. He didn't understand that a child lives in the present, and when your entire world consists of being unfairly punished, it hurts.
Then there's the meat thing. Mom and Bill feed Lincoln meat. Logically, I understand that he's their child and that the decision is theirs, but I can't help feeling that it's wrong not to let him make the decision for himself when he's old enough. I know that if he decides to stop eating meat, Mom will let him (Bill I'm not so sure about). But I wish I hadn't had that first four years of eating meat. I wish I'd been raised without meat until I was old enough to understand what it was, and make the decision whether to start eating it. The fact that I was eating it without knowing what it was disgusts me. I tell them this, and they brush me off, or ask me what my opinion is when I've already expressed it over and over without their hearing it at all.
Ultimately, I have to let it go. They're going to let Lincoln eat meat at the age of two. Jeffrey is going to take out his anger on people who can't fight back. That woman in the bookstore is going to diminish her daughter's sense of self-worth daily. It's hard to accept, but that's what I have to do.
EDIT: The point of this post is not the meat thing. That is an example of the point of this post, which is parenting decisions and the temptation to attempt to interfere with them.
