At the park, you will see many different types of moms. You’ve
read about Park Moms from other bloggers before. For example, there’s
the “Snack Mom.” She’s got a bag the size of a small dog carrier full of Goldfish
crackers, granola bars, gummies, you name it. This mom is prepared for any
toddler meltdown… and the zombie apocalypse.
Then there’s “Cell Phone Mom.” She came to the park so her rambunctious
crew could hopefully entertain themselves in the sand pit for five minutes.
During this brief reprieve, she hopes to check her Facebook or play Candy
Crush Saga for a just few moments before the barrage of “Mom! Mom! Mom!” comes at
her again.
Then there are the “Mom Date Moms.” These mom friends stand
in a tight circle talking at a rate of about 4,000 words per second trying to
make the most of their thirty minutes of adult interaction. The only thing stopping them from hitting
the bottle at 10am on a Thursday are these weekly Mom Dates.
I'm guilty of being all of these moms at one point or
another (most frequently, the third one!), but I’m here to talk about another
type of park mom. “Park Regulator Mom.”
“Park Regulator Mom” is not to be eff-ed with. If she sees any
dangerous, risky or just plain mean behavior, she will Shut. That. Shit. DOWN. “Park Regulator Mom” is a title I
bear at every park visit. (I’m thinking of having an arm band made, hall
monitor style.)
If there’s a kid throwing sand or wood chips, I will shut it
down.* If there’s a kid going up the slide while other kids are waiting at the top,
I will shut it down. If kids are hitting, kicking or pushing, I will shut it
down. (*Okay, there’s a chance I’ve been watching way too much Scandal. BTW, did you know that Scandal's Kerry
Washington is speaking at BlogHer ‘14? And did I tell you I’m going to BlogHer ‘14??!! I didn’t? I
know! We have so much catching up to do! Anyway, more on that later...)
I won’t even look to see if the errant kid’s mom is nearby
before I start regulating. I probably need to tone it down more than shut it
down, but when safety is at stake, this Mama Bear doesn’t eff around.
The role of Park Regulator Mom is deeply rooted in a
condition that I like to call “Park Anxiety Disorder.” Those play structures
are so big, and there are openings at the top where a small child could free
fall with one little slip. Whenever Q gets to the top of one of those things, I
have heart palpitations. I know. You think I’m over-reacting. And I probably
am. But a while back, I stumbled upon the most heart breaking story on
Facebook.
Healing Evan
is about a three year-old boy who died after falling from the top of a
park play structure. Click on the link of you want to read this family’s
devastating story, but grab some tissues first. (And read her post from Jan. 27th. Gut-wrenching!) This has stuck with me, validating all of my so-called “irrational” park safety
fears.
Last summer, two year-old Quinn and his friends were at a park
(i.e., my mom friends and I were on a Mom Date) when I felt my worst park fears
about to come true. Q was at the top of the slide, eight feet above the ground,
when a five-ish year-old boy pushed him aside so he could go down the tube slide
first. Quinn stumbled near the wide opening at the top… my friend and I ran to
the other side to try and catch him… but Q didn’t fall. My son, who is rather
clumsy and can suddenly fall just standing still, actually regained his balance
and didn’t fall to his death. Yet my heart stayed firmly in my throat.
Three or four kids had started crowding behind Q on the
small platform waiting their turn to go down the tube slide, but that same aggressive
little boy wouldn’t go all the way down. He would go halfway and then stop
himself and crawl back up to the top over and over again. So then the kids at
the top started getting antsy and pushy. Quinn was still hovering near the
opening on the platform and crying. My friend stayed at the bottom in case he fell while I
climbed to the top. I yelled over the waiting children to the grinning boy
clogging the slide. In my most menacing Mama Bear voice, I roared, “Get down
the slide NOW!” His eyes widened and he instantly disappeared down the slide.
That’s right, punk. Park Regulator Mom in full effect, yo! Don’t
eff with the arm band! (Just so you know, I don't often yell at other people's kids. Only when it's an urgent situation and immediate action is required.)
I could give several other examples of Q and his friends
being harmed or almost harmed by other kids at the park. I think every park
should have an official regulator. Until that happens, I will take my
self-appointed role very seriously.
What type of Park Mom
are you? What do you do when you see children exhibiting dangerous or hurtful
behavior? What are your boundaries for correcting other people’s (even complete
strangers’) children?
Here are a couple of my favorite posts on park behavior from Katie at Practical Parenting:
