The One About the Playground

I've seen a lot of chatter about playgrounds in my newsfeed lately. Remember the iPhone Mom and the frenzy of posts that followed from both critics and supporters? Now it seems every time I open up Facebook there is yet another article or blog about parents, kids, and outdoor play.

The logic I typically see goes something like this: Kids need free play without parental interference. They need to be able to navigate their own social circles, test their own physical abilities, and interact with peers and adults without mom-helicopter or dad-helicopter hovering around. Sounds good, in theory, doesn't it?

Except when it doesn't. Keep reading long enough and you'll find just as much "evidence" to support the other side.

We watch them too closely. No, we don't watch them carefully enough. Parents should leave their kids alone at the playground. For goodness sakes; aren't you watching your kids at the playground? Children need time to be with others their own age to learn social skills. Why are you sitting on the sidelines instead of teaching your kids social skills? Don't help or praise your kids on the jungle gym. Heavens, can't you see your kid needs some assistance and encouragement on the jungle gym?

So, what's a concerned parent to do? Sit back and watch? Or stay close and supervise? Leave them alone? Or play alongside?

I'll let you in on a little secret. I have the answer to your playground and park dilemma. Shhh . . . lean in closer.

Know. Your. Child.

Yep. It's that easy. Really.

Some kids thrive on the independence. They can't wait to ditch their parents at the park entrance and run off to find new friends. They might check in every once in a while just to see what you're doing or to ask for water, but for the most part they are in their own world. Bring your Kindle, open a good book, and relax. They'll find you when they need you.

Others might need mom or dad to stay with them until they feel more comfortable navigating the scene, especially at a new or unfamiliar place. After they've had a chance to warm up and/or talk to a few other kids, they will happily go in search of adventure while you fade into the background. Stay close, but step back when the opportunity presents itself. 

Younger ones probably need more guidance simply because of safety concerns. I know some folks like to say that children will only test their natural limits, and won't do more than they are capable of, and they need to learn to trust themselves, blah blah blah. I'm convinced none of those people have ever actually had a toddler. Toddlers are fearless and will do crazy things without half a thought.

Sometimes they just want to play with you, and that's okay. They might be intimidated if surrounded by a lot of older kids. Perhaps it's your first visit and it's a bigger playground than what they are used to. Don't let this worry you. One day your timid three-year-old will be your six-year-old social butterfly. Your toddler will be pointing you the bench saying "mama sit here" before you blink. Go with it, and follow their lead. 

And you know what? These hypothetical scenes are all correct. There is no "incorrect" way to take your kids to the park. Don't assume that because someone is not approaching it the way you would they are doing it wrong. 

If you're an on-the-sidelines parent, don't assume the dad standing close by his five-year-old daughter is helicoptering because you'd be more hands-off by that age. If you are one to be right in the midst of your children's play, don't assume the mom checking her e-mail is uncaring or ignoring them. Give them the benefit of the doubt that they are doing what they feel works best for their child. Just as you'd want someone to do for you.

Then of course there's the other thousand scenarios that you know nothing about and have no right to judge. Maybe the Dad who is swinging alongside his kids just got home from deployment and hasn't seen them in a year. Maybe the mom at the slide is "fussing" over her three-year-old because he just got out of his cast this week and she's a little nervous. Perhaps the woman glazed over talking on her phone seemingly not paying attention just got the worst news of her life. 

The next time you're at the park with your kids, simply approach it in a way that works for them. And drop any judgment at the gate.

Thanks for reading and have a blessed day.

moving beyond gender stereotypes

This weekend is my daughter's 3rd birthday. She's having a party and she couldn't be more excited to share the day with her friends. When we started thinking about her birthday a month or two ago, it was pretty easy to come up with a "theme" the she would love. I asked her if it was what she wanted, and she agreed happily, and continued to want the same theme ever since. So, this weekend will be my daughter's Construction party. 

My daughter came upon her love of construction vehicles naturally. The major road that she and I drive when we go to visit my parents every month or so has been having work done for as long as she can remember (a multi-year, expansion project). Diggers are her favorite, and she gleefully points out every. single. one. along the drive. At daycare, she plays with her classmates with trucks... but also all sorts of toys, blocks, books, trains, puzzles, baby dolls, and in the play kitchen.

I never really worried about gender stereotypes in our household. I don't like pink, my husband's favorite color is purple, we both love to cook, he cleans more then I do, and we both work outside of the home. Since my daughter was born, I've bought her clothes from the boys section and girls section equally. We never turn down a gift of clothes, no matter what the color, and whatever she chooses to wear in the morning is fine by me, so long as its weather appropriate. We're also blessed with family and friends that don't bat an eye when we answer their question of, "what does she want for Christmas?" with "Trucks!" She adores her two babies, Lily and Laura, and has the best time pounding away on her tool bench.

I wonder if this is going to change as she gets older. Her interests will grow and change, for certain, but all I want is for her to know its okay to love whatever she loves, that her gender does not determine her interest, her actions, or her capabilities. I hope no one she meets, be it child or adult, will make her feel badly for choosing hobbies that are more traditional "boy" hobbies. And for my own part, I will do my best not to let my own interests or associations dissuade her from any traditionally "girl" hobbies.

My girl, she is perfect when she is building tall towers with blocks while wearing pink dresses, and perfect when she is rocking her baby to sleep while wearing brown sweatpants and a blue hoodie, or a football uniform.


How do you feel about gender roles in your household? Do your friends and family respect that? Do you feel moving beyond gender stereotypes is harder with a boy?

On Judgment

On Saturday mornings, the Fort Greene farmers market lines the side of Fort Greene Park. The location is ideal, as families can pick up the weekly groceries and then take the kids to the playground just inside the park. Or in our case, my husband takes my son to the playground, while I pick up the vegetables, meat, half & half, and enough strawberries and rhubarb to satisfy my addiction for all things strawberry-rhubarb for the following week.

As I walked through the market this morning with my sister, we were once again talking about a thing that we often talk about, how women do this funny thing where we either judge the bejeezus out of each other or we accuse other women for judging the bejeezus out of us. Once we become parents this trait goes into hyperdrive to such an extent that all that has to happen is that another mother shows up with artfully arranged organic snacks in a stainless steel container and we feel judged because we have decided that with our snacks – the standard peanut butter and jelly sandwich (made of course with organic peanut butter and jelly but no one knows this since we left the jars where they belong in the refrigerator at home) in a plastic container that may very well contain BPA (or not, we just don't know because we've had them so long we can't remember if we bought them before and after BPA starting making the headlines) – we fall short. Or in some way, we feel invalidated, just because someone else does things differently. It's a leap of mental energy – mental energy that we very much need for other more important tasks, but nonetheless we use it anyway and carelessly – to accuse the other person of judging us or making us feel judged simply because they do something different.

My sister and I talked about this leap that happens, about how there are times we don't understand it, how it happens, how just because we do something differently than someone else, someone else feels judged by us. Yet, I concede that the places I judge myself the harshest are the places it doesn't take much at all for me to feel judged. The other person doesn't even have to say a word.

I've been on both sides of this coin. I've had mothers come up to me and admit that they feel intimidated by me because I write parenting articles and posts on how to be the perfect parent, or that because I write, I must have it all figured out. I've corrected them, to say that I have written no such thing about knowing how to be a perfect parent, that I actually write how I'd like to see the word “perfect” dropped from the English language or at the very least redefined to mean that as perfect parents, we lose it and then apologize and forgive ourselves and start over, just so our kids know that it's okay to make mistakes, to try, fail, and try again or that's okay for my kids to see that I too have emotions, or that I get frustrated or angry – and that I understand my anger and frustration impacts them and can even scare them. I correct them and say that generally the times I do things “wrong” are what I write about, and the times I do things “wrong” actually teach my children how to be resourceful like how to handle things when we end up on a subway ride without a toy to play with or in the park without snacks or a spare diaper or the baby's spare outfit.

Saturday morning, after my sister and I walked through the market and entered the playground where my son and husband were playing, I tried to figure out how I could put my market bag down without all of its contents spilling out. I had my 11-month old in her carrier and didn't want to have to bend over to pick up escaping apples or potatoes. One of my friends came running over. She was cute in her usual hip Bohemian Fort Greene mom way. She was especially energetic and happy. I instantly assessed that to be so hip and energetic, she must be very well rested and that it must be smooth sailing at her house with her two children, while at my house, we were lucky to get all four of us dressed to stumble out the door.

And so I said, “Oh, you're one of those smart, quick-witted mothers, one of those mothers with the answers...”

She said, “Are you kidding? Here you are wearing heels and a baby and carrying a bag full of vegetables. It's like a vision of perfection.”

I started to explain that I wasn't really wearing heels, that I was actually wearing heels made by the clog people so that they felt like clogs, but then I realized it was besides the point. I had just done that very thing my sister and I were just talking about; I had looked at someone else and instantly judged myself. It was like a bad habit left over from puberty, but worse, because I was still doing it and doing it without even thinking about it, almost as if it was an unconscious hard wired brain pattern, the kind of wiring that has you breathe without realizing it.

It wasn't even a thirty second interaction. We didn't discuss the usual hot topics that can cause parents to get weird, or their feathers ruffled, the topics like diet and snacks, discipline, TV watching, schools, or god forbid, vaccinations. It wasn't one of those conversations where I felt baited, like when a friend asked what we were going to do about my son's Pre-K in the fall. When I answered that we were going to try homeschooling, she immediately began defending her decision to send her son to school, and what a great school they had found for him. Even when I said, “That's great. We haven't found that – or we haven't found it close to our home or for less than $28,000.” She continued to defend her decision and her son's school. Even when I said, “Different families need different things.” She still defended. I left feeling weird and wondering why she had asked in the first place.

I have noticed since I've gotten caught in the judgment back and forth often enough and often without even meaning to or doing anything, that now, unless I'm with my closest friends (or friends that I know while we may do things differently, we know that we're all slightly neurotic about different things, and we're very good at respecting each other's neurosis) I no longer fall into the judgment trap because I don't casually disclose our various choices, or if I do, it's not without thought, or briefly explaining why we've done what we've done as an attempt to simply say, this is what works for us. Like that we no longer let our son watch TV because it made him violent and caused temper tantrums and I simply was unwilling to do it anymore. We don't do sugar because it also makes him nutty, not to mention, even with a lack of sugar (and juice, milk, bottles, candy, soda, or dried fruit), he has a mouth full of cavities that has the dentist stumped. I don't talk about vaccinations because that's a potential heated argument I have no desire to get into. When a friend asks for advice, I deflect with “Well, we're a little untraditional, but what we've found is...”

After talking with my sister and the brief interaction with my friend, I realized once again how comparing myself to others is just a reflex of my mind. It's not something I have to stay focused on. And, while I didn't know it in puberty, I know now that often others are also comparing themselves without even meaning to.

Recently, in an email with some beloved friends (versus some random online moms group), one mother asked, “How do the rest of you do it? Get snacks made? Get out of the house? Get time to yourself and get work done?” The discussion that followed was reassuring for all of us, as we all thought the rest of us had it all pulled together. Instead, we found that many of us often wear the same thing days in a row or that our children do, or that people pack snacks the night before, or drop the laundry off for someone else to do, or cook soup on Sunday so the week starts off with a few nights of leftovers. Some of us admitted that we throw parties just so we have to clean or that we've pulled the majority of our children's toys just so we don't have to continually pick up the pieces. I admitted that if you actually came over to our house, you'd discover that with two kids, two adults, two cats, a large dog and six chickens in the backyard, our home more resembles a circus than a peaceful sanctuary. Yet it's a circus that works for us, which is what I now remind myself when I notice that I'm feeling judged or inadequate.