I Was That Kid

Several months ago the media, doing what they seem to do best, incited the public against a mom’s insinuated lack of parenting skills when her toddler ended up in the clutches of a gorilla at the zoo. And then a few weeks ago the media once again took on the role of rebel-rouser when a parent shared her home-surveillance video which showed one of her toddler-aged twins pulling a dresser over on himself. Talk show hostesses and a plethora of others went into accuser-mode. How could this mom not have been there the instant the dresser fell—if not sooner? Or for that matter, how could she have let it happen in the first place?

Parents, give each other a break! Quit being so hard on each other—so mean to each other!

Stuff happens…fast. I know because I was that kid. When I was three I pulled a chest of drawers over on me because I was trying to get something from the top of –something that didn’t belong to me. My parents were just down the hallway in the living room…being good parents. 

When I was three I threw a fit when Granny took me for my first haircut. I’m talking major fit—the kind that sent my little black patent leather shoes flying across the room. This was not my normal behavior and it in no way reflected on Granny’s lack of discipline. Trust me. 

When I was four I gashed my chin open on the edge of our dining room table after slipping on some peanut butter while ‘tap dancing’ on said table-top while my mom was in the basement taking laundry from the wringer washer so she could hang it on the clothesline, which was also in the basement. Oh, and while she was doing that, she was also being a good mom. 

When I was six I ended up covered in poison sumac growing along the fence in the barn lot. A couple of doctor’s appointments and two kinds of medicine later, I was as good as new and no one even thought about blaming Granny or Mom for being neglectful. 

Until I was tall enough to not ‘have to’, I climbed on top of the counter tops to reach things in the kitchen cabinets. My favorite thing to get was the pancake syrup…as soon as my mom or Granny answered the phone (which was attached to the wall, back in those days). 

When I was seven...when I was nine…. I could keep going, but I won’t, because hopefully I’ve reminded you that wherever a child is present there is the potential for stuff to happen. 

Stuff happens in the blink of an eye. Stuff happens no matter how careful you are. Stuff happens no matter how consistent you are when it comes to discipline. Stuff happens because…well, just because. 

So before pointing fingers and laying blame, remember this: your kids just might be that kid before the day is over. 

Love,

Momma D

                       Copyright 2017 Darla Noble. No part of this can be used or copied without permission from the author.