Okay, people. What is happening on playgrounds these days? I’ve been to a few in the past week and, let me tell you, it’s a whole new world out there.
Allow me to complain a little bit about some people and their playground politics.
Humor me.
This isn’t to say that I don’t do annoying or irresponsible things. We all do. I’m not preaching here, just telling you what I witnessed on two separate playgrounds that made me wonder if I was on one of those hidden camera shows.
Is someone watching me to see if I’ll do the right thing? Is someone testing my patience?
Ashton? Oh, Aaaaash-ton? You can come out now. You’re not going to punk me!
Actually, I feel sorry for celebrities who get Punk’d. I’m glad I’m not famous. Well, that’s not true. But I’m glad I’m not in danger of being Punk’d.
Anyway, I digress.
It all began on an innocent trip to a park playground last Friday in Columbia. The slide contraption was tall and fun, but not toddler friendly. I did my usual shadow-mommy behavior: holding Taylor’s hand every step of the way and staying behind her as she climbed.
(I know, don’t say it. I’m one of those moms. I hover. I can’t help it. She’s my first child and only child at the moment. Enough said.)
After I finally let Taylor go down the tunnel slide alone (to be caught by my mom on the other end), I walked back to the steps to bring Taylor up for another round. That’s when I saw a little girl who couldn’t have been much more than two years old, if that, pulling her way up the steps to the main platform of the play gym.
We saw this same little girl earlier that day eating sand from a plastic rake like it was an ice cream cone. We had yet to see her mother.
Now, let me explain to you that this play gym was at least eight - maybe even ten - feet tall with several open spaces where kids could monkey their way down metal poles and ladders. An unattended two-year-old could fall off and drop ten feet to the ground, easily.
I was imagining the worst. My maternal instincts kicked in like nobody’s business.
I lifted that little girl off the steps and carried her around the playground asking every adult in sight, “Whose child is this?” until finally a young woman came forward to claim her. She scooped the little girl out of my arms without so much as a thank you.
Seriously?
She didn’t even say thank you! She didn’t seem concerned or the least bit surprised.
So went my first lesson in playground politics. That mother felt entitled to a supervision-free outing to the park, allowed her too-young-for-the-play-gym daughter to wander aimlessly into danger, and expected other parents at the park to watch her child. She took advantage of the system. And it worked.
I guess I was the sucker.
But I would do the same thing every time for the sake of that little girl.
In another less-friendly park in Charlotte, I witnessed one child slap another child in a fight over the steering wheel toy on the play gym. Taylor was in my arms - thank goodness - but I audibly gasped and turned my shocked face to the mother who yelled at the boys. I thought her son was the victim of another, unrelated boy’s aggression. I expected her to jump up and save her son from the situation, but she didn’t move from her seat on the bench. She just kept yelling while they basically ignored her. I realized she must have been in charge of both boys when she huffed and shook her head at them, still unmoved from her seat. They were allowed to continue playing or fighting or whatever. I immediately left with Taylor, explaining to her that hitting is bad behavior. I didn’t want her to think it was okay to hit.
No fighting, no biting.
Right?
Isn’t that still the rule?
My second lesson in playground politics: apparently, all’s fair in love and war and on the playground.
Sheesh.
Some people.
So, what’s happening on your playground?
Allow me to complain a little bit about some people and their playground politics.
Humor me.
This isn’t to say that I don’t do annoying or irresponsible things. We all do. I’m not preaching here, just telling you what I witnessed on two separate playgrounds that made me wonder if I was on one of those hidden camera shows.
Is someone watching me to see if I’ll do the right thing? Is someone testing my patience?
Ashton? Oh, Aaaaash-ton? You can come out now. You’re not going to punk me!
Actually, I feel sorry for celebrities who get Punk’d. I’m glad I’m not famous. Well, that’s not true. But I’m glad I’m not in danger of being Punk’d.
Anyway, I digress.
It all began on an innocent trip to a park playground last Friday in Columbia. The slide contraption was tall and fun, but not toddler friendly. I did my usual shadow-mommy behavior: holding Taylor’s hand every step of the way and staying behind her as she climbed.
(I know, don’t say it. I’m one of those moms. I hover. I can’t help it. She’s my first child and only child at the moment. Enough said.)
After I finally let Taylor go down the tunnel slide alone (to be caught by my mom on the other end), I walked back to the steps to bring Taylor up for another round. That’s when I saw a little girl who couldn’t have been much more than two years old, if that, pulling her way up the steps to the main platform of the play gym.
We saw this same little girl earlier that day eating sand from a plastic rake like it was an ice cream cone. We had yet to see her mother.
Now, let me explain to you that this play gym was at least eight - maybe even ten - feet tall with several open spaces where kids could monkey their way down metal poles and ladders. An unattended two-year-old could fall off and drop ten feet to the ground, easily.
I was imagining the worst. My maternal instincts kicked in like nobody’s business.
I lifted that little girl off the steps and carried her around the playground asking every adult in sight, “Whose child is this?” until finally a young woman came forward to claim her. She scooped the little girl out of my arms without so much as a thank you.
Seriously?
She didn’t even say thank you! She didn’t seem concerned or the least bit surprised.
So went my first lesson in playground politics. That mother felt entitled to a supervision-free outing to the park, allowed her too-young-for-the-play-gym daughter to wander aimlessly into danger, and expected other parents at the park to watch her child. She took advantage of the system. And it worked.
I guess I was the sucker.
But I would do the same thing every time for the sake of that little girl.
In another less-friendly park in Charlotte, I witnessed one child slap another child in a fight over the steering wheel toy on the play gym. Taylor was in my arms - thank goodness - but I audibly gasped and turned my shocked face to the mother who yelled at the boys. I thought her son was the victim of another, unrelated boy’s aggression. I expected her to jump up and save her son from the situation, but she didn’t move from her seat on the bench. She just kept yelling while they basically ignored her. I realized she must have been in charge of both boys when she huffed and shook her head at them, still unmoved from her seat. They were allowed to continue playing or fighting or whatever. I immediately left with Taylor, explaining to her that hitting is bad behavior. I didn’t want her to think it was okay to hit.
No fighting, no biting.
Right?
Isn’t that still the rule?
My second lesson in playground politics: apparently, all’s fair in love and war and on the playground.
Sheesh.
Some people.
So, what’s happening on your playground?
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