Does adult supervision really mean within arms reach?
Last Friday was an absolutely gorgeous day here: 74 degrees, bright, sunshiny and breezy. It was the Perfect Spring Day; so perfect that I just HAD to take the kids to the park!
You know when you were a kid and the playground was this bizarre world of social rules that sometimes didn’t make sense? Yeah. It’s still like that as an adult.
I’m not sure I’m a great playground Mama.
To keep my boys healthy, I have to watch them like a hawk! Everything and anything they can shove in their mouths must be scrutinized, examined and judged. Every activity they are invited to must pass through my “FPIES Eyes” to determine the risk versus reward of going.
Perhaps in response to my need for constant vigilance regarding their food, I’ve found myself getting more and more chilled out about things other parents seem to be terribly concerned about.
Like playing.
The way I see it, my sons lives are hampered, in many ways, by their food restrictions. I will be a constant, hovering presence any time they are near food. So to teach them independence, to teach them responsibility and self-respect, I need to back off every other chance I get.
Like at the park.
So here we are, playing at the park. Jed is not quite 3 years old. He’s scampering around the “big kid” playground structure, having the time of his life. Other kids, from his age up to around ten years old, are scampering around the equipment, too.
And so are their parents.
ON the playground equipment.
The equipment designed for 5 to 12 year olds.
Am I the ONLY person shaking their head at this?
I just wanted to ask these parents, “How would YOU have felt at 7 years old if your Mommy was three feet away from you while you played on the jungle gym?” Because I would have hated that and I’m sure they would have, too.
Jed loves to have sand and/or water poured on him, so he thinks other kids love it, too. He was playing with some little girls in the sandbox (all of whom were at least 5 years old) and decided to pour sand on their heads. As I expected, they didn’t like it!
Now, when I was a kid and a little boy poured sand on me, I yelled at him. I told him “Don’t do that!” When he did it again, I threw sand at him AND told him ‘no’. When he did it a third time, I punched him! Then I left and played somewhere else.
End of story. Case closed. He learned not to mess with me, and I learned to stand up for myself. (Years later, I dated that boy, but that’s another story!)
So is that what these little girls did?
Pshaw! No way! Without saying a word to Jed, they turned and ran to their mother. Conveniently, I had struck up a conversation with their mom and was chatting with her while this was going on, so when the girls came up to whine to their mother about Jed, I was able to hear the entire exchange.
Their mom, a very nice woman, started in with “Well, he’s just a little boy. He doesn’t know any better.” Which was true – he IS a little boy and doesn’t know any better. My question is, how is he going to learn?
So I told the girls, “Girls, if he does it again, yell at him. Tell him not to do that to you. If he keeps trying to do it, throw sand back at him. The only way he’ll learn how to act around you is if you teach him that throwing sand is not okay!”
This, as you might imagine, did not go over well with their Mom.
She didn’t like the idea of her girls throwing sand at my son – even WITH my permission!
Later on, Jed started playing with a little boy about two years older than him. They were playing some kind of ritualistic “King of the Hill” type thing they had made up. Jed stood on top of the platform and the little boy tried to climb up the ladder and get onto the platform. Jed screamed at him. The boy screamed back. They screamed at each other until Jed giggled and ran away, the boy climbed up, and before I knew it, they were in reversed positions with Jed climbing the ladder and the boy on the platform, still screaming at each other (and grinning and giggling the whole time, might I add!).
The little boys dad was yelling at him “Be nice! He’s just a little boy! Let him up the ladder! (firmer) Son – I said play nice!”
Sigh…
OK, so maybe this will be an unpopular point of view (or maybe you’re all Free-Range Parents and I won’t get lynched!), but here are my thoughts on these “playground vignettes”:
Climbing and crawling on playground equipment is how kids learn what their body can do, and how to make their body do it. It’s how they learn balance and coordination. It’s also where they learn courage, determination, and judgement: “I don’t think I can make that step” or “I am GOING to reach that top level if I have to try all day!” (Sound familiar to thoughts you had when you were a kid?)
If a little girl 5 or 6 years old doesn’t know how to stand up to a 2 year old by herself, how on earth is she going to be able to stand up for herself against a potential date rapist in another decade? Tell him to wait a second while she calls her Mommy? (No, I don’t think this means she’ll never learn how to stand up for herself…the question is, where and when?)
Little boys play differently than little girls; it’s all about dominance and proving your ‘manliness’ – even at a young age. That doesn’t mean they can’t be friends and play nicely together, but when you put two little boys together, they WILL compete with each other and they WILL try to assert dominance.
Um…have you ever seen two men meeting for the first time? SAME THING.
It’s a guy thing, and to constantly tell our sons to “play nice” (code for “stop asserting your dominance in this current contest of wills”) is essentially neutering them; handicapping them in their ability to navigate the world of masculinity that they are destined to live. Sometimes our sons will win the contest and sometimes they will lose. It’s how they learn when and how to assert their dominance as they grow into men. It’s good!
The playground, ladies and gents, is WHERE kids learn how to interact with other kids. It is WHERE kids learn how to stand up for themselves, how to deal with jerks and bullies, how to assert dominance – and then express kindness and empathy.
How on earth can our children do that when Mommy or Daddy is three feet away telling them what to do and how to do it?
They can’t.
Now, there is a time and place for parental intervention. If a child has crossed a line and the other children are not able to stop the misbehavior – of course, step in. If there is a seriously stupid test of bravery they’ve created that will easily result in bloodshed – of course, step in.
There are other examples I could list, but, frankly, we’re supposed to be the adults! We’re supposed to have the judgement to see when kids need a guiding hand and when they Just. Need. To. Be. Kids.
Not to sound cliched, but kids are people, too. Not all people are nice. Not all people are going to be your friend. Not all people are going to play fair. To force our kids to adhere to these “play nice” rules is demeaning and insulting to our kids: they need to learn how to function in the real world, not the world where “hurt feelings” are to be avoided like the plague. (Don’t we all get our feelings hurt as adults? Imagine how bad it would be if you were never taught coping skills for that as a child!)
So for the social graces, the mental health, and the self-confidence of our next generation, please, parents, I’m begging you: Step away from the playground equipment!
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What do you think? Are we doing our children any favors by micromanaging every interaction they have? Or are we teaching them something useful?
