Park Life 2! Electric Boogaloo

I am no closer to resolving the anxiety and frustrations I have taking the kid to the park. As I mentioned before in Mommy Blah-g, I am no closer to resolving the anxiety and frustrations I have taking the kid to the park. As I mentioned before in Mommy Blah-g, I often struggle between the two extremes of Type A Mom: pain-in-the-ass "perfect" mommy and Type B Mom: self-deprecating "scary mommy(tm)."

In general, I am more of a self-deprecating, imperfect mom than a pain-in-the-ass-perfect mom. I laugh along with the funny, if slightly inappropriate, moms out there, and I accept that that level of humor means I will never truly identify with the Type A's. I know I am not entirely a role model mom, and yet I am not exactly fearful of child services showing up.

I want to just let my kid run around and not give a sh!t, but it's not really possible. It's the park. There are rules, or at least that's what I like to tell her. Yet, every time I relax and let her go, there is a Type A Mom there to make me feel irresponsible somehow and I regret it instantly. Conversely, whenever I lean towards becoming a 'rule enforcer,' there are all these cool, normal moms that then think I am the Type A pain-in-the-ass-perfect mommy. I'm really not! How can I find a balance that I am comfortable with if I am neither allowed to reprimand other people's kids for doing bad stuff nor zone out, effectively losing my own kid within the gated area? The balance I currently have consists of great teaching moments mixed in with epic parenting fails.

Is there such a thing as playground etiquette? There must be right? There is NO WAY I am the only one who is (hyper)aware of these things that seem pretty basic common sense.

My common sense park rules for both parents and kids: Even though I don't think we should have to write them out, I am doing it so we all have them here to refer to (that's the Type A mom talking). These rules benefit us all and would make park time infinitely more enjoyable if universally followed.

1. Were you born in a barn? Yes? That's rare and fairly unsanitary, but I will let you off the hook. The rest of you need to close the gate behind you when you come in and out. Every park I have been to has a gate that locks. It is each of our responsibility to pull the gate closed behind us. If someone is also passing through directly behind us, we should stand there and force a creepy eye contact moment to make sure they have acknowledged their responsibility of closing the gate. If we knew the gate was going to stay closed, we could all relax a little and let the little ones go. But that is also dependent on #2...
2. Do not let any lone children in or out of the park when you are entering or exiting. If we know that the gate is going to remain closed, and that when it is open a conscious, responsible adult is going to stop any little ones from making a break for it, we could truly relax, sit down, not have to watch over them every minute that we are there, and not feel like such a terrible caregiver if we do let them out of our line of vision for a minute.
3. No hitting. I mean, come on. I don't want to have to say something to your kid if they're being an a$$, so let's just make sure they know this rule and save us all from that awkward moment. To all the true Type A's reading this, I know I'm supposed to comfort the victim and not focus on the perpetrator (yeah Baby Center psycho babble!), but F that... the reality is that I need my kid to see that the lesson is universal and that I truly believe that no one should hit, not just her. Oh, and when I say something, it is going to be matter of fact and not sugar coated. ("No. We don't hit," as opposed to "Whoopsydoodles! Please oh please keep your sweet hands to yourself darling little man!") Because yes, I say "no" to my kid and I don't really have it in me to be constructive and positive to your kid just because you don't use "negative" words when responding to my kid getting whacked - not in the mafia way, in the undisciplined child way.
4. Don't let your kid play on any one swing/toy for too long when someone else wants it. There are the "park toys" - abandoned toys left for everyone's enjoyment, and the swings/slides, etc. Just be aware if another kid wants to use the thing your kid is using. If you have ever waited more than 10 minutes for a swing with a screaming child at your feet or in your arms, you know this is an important one. Which brings me to #5...
5. Be patient and everybody gets a turn. This is a life lesson for the kids, but also one of the fundamental park rules. Obviously they can (and should) wait a bit, but everyone should get a turn. Plus I would much rather negotiate my next Word With Friends move than my kid's next turn on the filthy tricycle. 
6. Speaking of the swings (I wasn't, but I needed a transition to #6), Don't let your kid run unattended through the swings section. Except for that one time when someone else opened the gate and let her in unattended, I totally follow this one. Thanks dude, for making me look like the irresponsible one when I found her in the swings section 30 seconds later! In the interest of full disclosure, someone else found her and tipped me off, but she was found, so everybody just calm down.
7. If there is sand in your local playground, you may be unfortunate enough to have a kid who likes playing in the sand. My kid used to avoid the sand pit like the rat playground it is, but recently developed a love for it that I can best equate with a child having a thing for petri dishes... so very disgusting. And yet I'm not gonna be the one to tell her she can't play in there. I don't need her growing up with some weird sand fetish because I banned it early on. But where was I? Oh yeah... don't F#$%ing throw sand. Baby girl got a fistful of sand in the face recently. It was quick and unexpected and the thrower's mom dealt with it speedily and well. I promptly flushed her eyes out with water (my kid, not the thrower's mom), but I did feel terrible that her eyes were all red and irritated for the rest of the day. Plus, can you imagine what it's like to go from not knowing someone would ever throw a fistful of sand directly at your face from 10 inches away, to the cold hard reality of it happening? Must be as groundbreaking as going from never having thrown sand in someone's face to having actually done it. Life lessons, little ones, life lessons.
8. Moving right along... Once you've slid down the slide, CLEAR OUT! Get off the slide so you're not blown away by the next kid coming down. This is definitely one of those lessons best taught by experiencing it, but it's worth mentioning here. I used to get all nervous when I took too long clearing her off that someone was going to yell at me. Arguably I just need to relax a bit since I rarely see anyone else doing the clearing thing. Speaking of, where the hell are these children's caregivers anyway? I get it, it's the park... time for your kid to run free and blow off some of that energy, but if they haven't mastered all of the common sense points listed here, they need to be watched a little bit closer than not at all. 
9. Which naturally brings me to the next rule: Keep an eye on your kid and make sure they're following the rules. Teach them the etiquette and THEN set them free so you can go play on your phone for a bit. 
10. And finally: Don’t tut-tut or tsk-tsk, give disapproving glares, roll your eyes at, judge, huff or do anything the least bit condescending towards any other caregiver at the park... unless, of course, their kid is being a major baby/child jerk and they are nowhere to be found. In which case... disapprove away!

I know, no one likes a rule enforcer, but everyone likes a rule follower. Thank you in advance for your cooperation.

Oh, and playing into a completely separate fear, I think I might sound like a bit of a helicopter mom here, but really I am not... far from it. In fact, I do strongly believe that children should take a few tumbles in the park so they can learn firsthand what not to do. I also believe that children will be better off in the long run for having resolved their own conflicts in the park without an adult stepping in. But I also think that learning some basic rules is key to a fun park experience as well as a good head start on some great life lessons. As for me, I'm just trying to get the kid swung, slid, and home for snack without getting into an altercation.

It's not about how fast she got there, not about what's waiting on the other side... it's the climb!

In general, I am more of a self-deprecating, imperfect mom than a pain-in-the-ass-perfect mom. I laugh along with the funny, if slightly inappropriate, moms out there (hello Baby Sideburns!), and I accept that that level of humor means I will never truly identify with the Type A's. I know I am not entirely a role model mom, and yet I am not exactly fearful of child services showing up.

I want to just let my kid run around and not give a sh!t, but it's not really possible. It's the park. There are rules, or at least that's what I like to tell her. Yet, every time I relax and let her go, there is a Type A Mom there to make me feel irresponsible somehow and I regret it instantly. Conversely, whenever I lean towards becoming a 'rule enforcer,' there are all these cool, normal moms that then think I am the Type A pain-in-the-ass-perfect mommy. I'm really not! How can I find a balance that I am comfortable with if I am neither allowed to reprimand other people's kids for doing bad stuff nor zone out, effectively losing my own kid within the gated area? The balance I currently have consists of great teaching moments mixed in with epic parenting fails.

Is there such a thing as playground etiquette? There must be right? There is NO WAY I am the only one who is (hyper)aware of these things that seem pretty basic common sense.

My common sense park rules for both parents and kids: Even though I don't think we should have to write them out, I am doing it so we all have them here to refer to (that's the Type A mom talking). These rules benefit us all and would make park time infinitely more enjoyable if universally followed.

1. Were you born in a barn? Yes? That's rare and fairly unsanitary, but I will let you off the hook. The rest of you need to close the gate behind you when you come in and out. Every park I have been to has a gate that locks. It is each of our responsibility to pull the gate closed behind us. If someone is also passing through directly behind us, we should stand there and force a creepy eye contact moment to make sure they have acknowledged their responsibility of closing the gate. If we knew the gate was going to stay closed, we could all relax a little and let the little ones go. But that is also dependent on #2...
2. Do not let any lone children in or out of the park when you are entering or exiting. If we know that the gate is going to remain closed, and that when it is open a conscious, responsible adult is going to stop any little ones from making a break for it, we could truly relax, sit down, not have to watch over them every minute that we are there, and not feel like such a terrible caregiver if we do let them out of our line of vision for a minute.
3. No hitting. I mean, come on. I don't want to have to say something to your kid if they're being an a$$, so let's just make sure they know this rule and save us all from that awkward moment. To all the true Type A's reading this, I know I'm supposed to comfort the victim and not focus on the perpetrator (yeah Baby Center psycho babble!), but F that... the reality is that I need my kid to see that the lesson is universal and that I truly believe that no one should hit, not just her. Oh, and when I say something, it is going to be matter of fact and not sugar coated. ("No. We don't hit," as opposed to "Whoopsydoodles! Please oh please keep your sweet hands to yourself darling little man!") Because yes, I say "no" to my kid and I don't really have it in me to be constructive and positive to your kid just because you don't use "negative" words when responding to my kid getting whacked - not in the mafia way, in the undisciplined child way.
4. Don't let your kid play on any one swing/toy for too long when someone else wants it. There are the "park toys" - abandoned toys left for everyone's enjoyment, and the swings/slides, etc. Just be aware if another kid wants to use the thing your kid is using. If you have ever waited more than 10 minutes for a swing with a screaming child at your feet or in your arms, you know this is an important one. Which brings me to #5...
5. Be patient and everybody gets a turn. This is a life lesson for the kids, but also one of the fundamental park rules. Obviously they can (and should) wait a bit, but everyone should get a turn. Plus I would much rather negotiate my next Word With Friends move than my kid's next turn on the filthy tricycle. 
6. Speaking of the swings (I wasn't, but I needed a transition to #6), Don't let your kid run unattended through the swings section. Except for that one time when someone else opened the gate and let her in unattended, I totally follow this one. Thanks dude, for making me look like the irresponsible one when I found her in the swings section 30 seconds later! In the interest of full disclosure, someone else found her and tipped me off, but she was found, so everybody just calm down.
7. If there is sand in your local playground, you may be unfortunate enough to have a kid who likes playing in the sand. My kid used to avoid the sand pit like the rat playground it is, but recently developed a love for it that I can best equate with a child having a thing for petri dishes... so very disgusting. And yet I'm not gonna be the one to tell her she can't play in there. I don't need her growing up with some weird sand fetish because I banned it early on. But where was I? Oh yeah... don't F#$%ing throw sand. Baby girl got a fistful of sand in the face recently. It was quick and unexpected and the thrower's mom dealt with it speedily and well. I promptly flushed her eyes out with water (my kid, not the thrower's mom), but I did feel terrible that her eyes were all red and irritated for the rest of the day. Plus, can you imagine what it's like to go from not knowing someone would ever throw a fistful of sand directly at your face from 10 inches away, to the cold hard reality of it happening? Must be as groundbreaking as going from never having thrown sand in someone's face to having actually done it. Life lessons, little ones, life lessons.
8. Moving right along... Once you've slid down the slide, CLEAR OUT! Get off the slide so you're not blown away by the next kid coming down. This is definitely one of those lessons best taught by experiencing it, but it's worth mentioning here. I used to get all nervous when I took too long clearing her off that someone was going to yell at me. Arguably I just need to relax a bit since I rarely see anyone else doing the clearing thing. Speaking of, where the hell are these children's caregivers anyway? I get it, it's the park... time for your kid to run free and blow off some of that energy, but if they haven't mastered all of the common sense points listed here, they need to be watched a little bit closer than not at all. 
9. Which naturally brings me to the next rule: Keep an eye on your kid and make sure they're following the rules. Teach them the etiquette and THEN set them free so you can go play on your phone for a bit. 
10. And finally: Don’t tut-tut or tsk-tsk, give disapproving glares, roll your eyes at, judge, huff or do anything the least bit condescending towards any other caregiver at the park... unless, of course, their kid is being a major baby/child jerk and they are nowhere to be found. In which case... disapprove away!

I know, no one likes a rule enforcer, but everyone likes a rule follower. Thank you in advance for your cooperation.

Oh, and playing into a completely separate fear, I think I might sound like a bit of a helicopter mom here, but really I am not... far from it. In fact, I do strongly believe that children should take a few tumbles in the park so they can learn firsthand what not to do. I also believe that children will be better off in the long run for having resolved their own conflicts in the park without an adult stepping in. But I also think that learning some basic rules is key to a fun park experience as well as a good head start on some great life lessons. As for me, I'm just trying to get the kid swung, slid, and home for snack without getting into an altercation.

It's not about how fast she got there, not about what's waiting on the other side... it's the climb!

Park Life!

We are fortunate enough to live directly between two very cool kiddie play parks. As lucky as we are to have them both, it is hard not to choose favorites (spoken like a true clueless mother of one). 

"Swing" park, as we call it, has the swings. I know, VERY creative naming skills. You're lucky my daughter isn't called "Puffy girl" based on our first encounter. But Swing park is the inferior park. Let me tell you why:

*It is crowded as hell, if hell had dozens of screaming children and disenfranchised nannies running around, which I am pretty sure it does.

*When the weather is very warm, there is a terrible mosquito infestation that comes out around 4-6pm... you know, that dead time when you desperately need something to do with the kid before dinner... yeah, you can’t go there then. 

*The jungle gym/climbing unit has several openings on every single side that an unskilled climber (or a two year old) can very easily fall off of, and an unskilled caregiver (or me) feels powerless to defend against. I can't be everywhere at once!

Please note the six unique drop-off points above

 *There is a "pit" set two oddly sized steps down from the rest of the park.

Please note the innocent looking Razor looming in the background

*It is a graveyard for any donated toys from the neighborhood, which would actually be a really nice thing, if it wasn't for the pit (see above), which the kids can then careen down into on the second-hand "Razors of death," as I fondly call them.

"Slide" park is our go-to. Guess what identifying feature that park has? Yup... a sandbox. If you must know, both parks actually have slides... and I probably should have my naming rights confiscated. Slide park is usually empty during the day and rarely gets super busy. This is a good thing for a two year old, who has had the ability to grow her playground chops at her own pace with relatively little interruption. Unfortunately, we have not exactly had the most realistic introduction to playground socialization. My sweet little lady is not used to having to be aggressive, and I am at a complete loss as to how I should behave in a playground.

Our experiences at Swing park the other day really highlighted A-why it sucks and B-why park rules shouldn't just be some vague concept we all think we know. We need to make sure we all actually know them, and respect them, and obey them. For the sake of my sanity as well as my desire to let the kid run loose and burn off a bit of energy. 

My daughter was climbing on the "free-fall" apparatus (see above: jungle gym that has drop-off points on all sides and levels), which is a particularly difficult thing for a two-year old to do in the after-school hours when the park is overrun with grade schoolers. My daughter climbs, not with the brazen determination of a seven year old, but with the tentative courage of a two year old. That courage is enough to get her to the top and go down the big slide on a normal day. As that day was a particularly gorgeous day, warmest we've had all year, the kids were out in droves, and her courage was coming up a bit short.

She's two, so we are currently teaching her about sharing and turns, and thank goodness, she seems to get it.  On this crowded day, however, the kids were all pushing past her as she nervously waited her turn at the top of the slide. Thanks kids! Way to give her some practical experience that contradicts every single lesson we have been trying to teach her.

Me: Take your time and everyone gets a turn.

Her: Really mom? Cause when I take my time, everyone just kind of pushes past me to go down the slide in front of me. And the stream of kids is endless... when is it my turn exactly? 

Me: Go down the slide and get clear so someone else can go down.

Her: Ok mom, but it sure does seem like these kids are going down, stopping halfway, then climbing back up and screaming like wild f#$%ing animals in my face. But I'm sure in theory your plan makes sense too.

Me: Be gentle and we don't hit.

Her: Sure mom, we don't hit. But I'm pretty sure some super snotty-faced under-two just smacked my head for doing nothing but saying hi to him. WTF Snots???

Pick up the story four minutes later when my daughter gave up completely on the loud, overcrowded slide and decided she wanted to go back to the swings. The mystery mother of Snots McGee (the kid that just hit her) resurfaced just in time to grab him, dart past us walking into the swings section and grab the last available swing. But only after she stopped at the entry to lecture a bigger kid on needing to close the gate behind him. Nice teaching moment, but where were you when your kid just smacked my kid? Maybe take a sec to be a parent to your own kid, and let the other caregivers tend to their wards, hmmm? 

Now, when we left the swings earlier, we had left relatively quickly so that someone else could have a turn. Consider this one of my great lessons in sharing. So when we returned and began waiting, I reinforced the lesson by pointing out that we would now wait for our turn. All good, except the chatting nannies and distracted parents apparently all decided that now would be a great time to make me look like a big fat liar to my kid. 

Me: We gave up our spot on the swing to give someone else a turn and now someone will give up their spot to give us a turn.

Her: So, let me get this straight: I have to get off the swings quickly before my swinging needs have been satiated so that someone else can have a turn, yet when I am waiting for well over five minutes (an eternity in park time), no one is going to get off for me? I am the only one waiting, by the way, so I only need one nice person to move. Oh yeah, that seems like another great lesson you fool.

So, do you want to know how we eventually got a spot on the swing? Well, a nanny who was pushing two kids while talking to another nanny pushing a third kid abandoned her first kid. Enter Mother-Of-The-Year: Mamma Snots McGee, who steps in and starts pushing abandoned kid #1, who proceeds to projectile vomit all over himself and the swing. His nanny doesn't realize this until someone calls out to her and she grabs him out of the swing, which is now covered in spit-up. Of course, my kid doesn't understand that, does she? She sees a free swing and wonders why the hell I'm not moving in on that. It's partially because I didn't even have a tissue of my own to clean it up with, and partially because MOTY McGee announced that she would clean it up. How noble! Now she has left Snots (again!) dangling (cause you're only swinging when someone is pushing you... otherwise you're just kind of blowing in the breeze), to go earn that MOTY title and fetch a wipe to help clean the swing. 

Thankfully, while all this was going on, Nanny #2 removed Nanny #1's kid #2 from his swing and I was able to get my kid swinging. Which was going great until kid #1, baby Hurl-ey as we'll call him, shows back up in the swings section, tottering straight into the path of my daughter's swinging legs. I tried three times, on her backswings, to corral him and send him around behind me. But he was persistent, like a mini drunk frat boy, and park etiquette aside, I was forced to allow Hurl-ey, myself and my kid to all collide as I was basically pushing/pulling him to the side and out of the way. I had always thought of touching other people's kids in the park as a big no-no, but I had no choice, and I was ready to throw down if someone wanted to have a go at me on this one.

So, the mom behind me goes to put her kid in the spit-up swing and I tried telling her not to, that it had sick on it and someone (where'd you go, MOTY? Your kid is still dangling there!) would be back to clean it. This mother also had a kid who desperately wanted her turn, but she happened to have a tissue in her pocket which she used to clean the swing off. As she's lifting her kid into the swing, MOTY shows back up, yelling not to put her kid in and gives me a look of questionable judgment (read: death glare) for allowing this woman to let her kid swing in someone else's sick. As opposed to what really happened; understanding her pain of needing to get her kid on the swing and being ok cleaning up the mess herself. 

So, the McGee family (not their real name, I'm guessing) has ruined for me what was actually the crappier park anyway. Of course my daughter couldn't care less. She just wants to swing sometimes. I have made the executive decision that her swinging will have to be confined to off-peak hours because I personally cannot handle the peak swinging experience. I am destined to be that woman who gets in trouble for "teaching park rules to" (reprimanding) someone else's kid. But someone F-ing has to! Of course if we all promised to simply look after our own kids, I wouldn’t need to. And yet...