There is a fine line between comforting and coddling your child when something goes wrong.
Last year we met up with some of my family to eat at a nice restaurant that opened a couple of towns away. My family lives about 45 min – 1 hour away and there are so many cute places to meet up halfway.
We sat down outside for lunch. My grandmother, mother, two aunts, Antonio and myself.
It was a fenced in area, with about a dozen tables outside. A large, turfed area extended past the dining tables with oversized games (Connect 4, Jenga) that was inviting for children to play while the parents ate. I loved it, because he could explore and play and never be far away from me or out of eyesight.
It was a weekday, so most kids were in school. But there was one little boy, about 5 years old, playing, stacking the Jenga tiles (Antonio was almost 3 at this time.)
My grandmother saw him and got so excited for Antonio to have a person to play with. She encouraged Antonio to go play, and off he went.
At this age, Antonio was interested in parallel playing. Which is basically him playing adjacent to another child, but not interfering. Monkey see, monkey do. This kid was stacking stuff, so Antonio wanted to stack too. But he made his own place a couple of feet away from this kid and started having a blast.
As a new mom/mom of one child – my eyes are always on my child, but I really try to give him some freedom.
So, I watched, as this child slowly started taking all the tiles away that Antonio was stacking.
I remember Antonio looking confused, but just walked further away to get more (there were tons of tiles scattered everywhere.) And the child continued to take EVERY SINGLE ONE away from him.
As infuriated as I was, I didn’t interject. If he was at preschool, I would be unable to protect him from everything and I try very hard to remind myself of that. Plus, I was genuinely curious to see how he would react, since he had never experienced this before.
Antonio finally got fed up, walked over to where the kid was stacking, and pushed it over. Tiles scattered everywhere as he looked over to see if I was watching, with the BIGGEST smirk on his face.
Touché, kid.
I called him over and asked him why he did that? That wasn’t kind to ruin what the other child was building. “He kept taking all my tiles mom.” I told him I completely understood and although that was frustrating and rude, we don’t treat others the way they treat us. I told him it was wrong that he knocked that over and our food was about to come out, so let’s take a break from playing for a while.
Our food came and we ate, and he asked to go play again. I obliged but told him to stay away from the other kid. The area was huge, and there was plenty of room.
Antonio set up another play area, all the way on the other side of the turf and went back to stacking.
I was mid-bite when I see this little boy marching over to Antonio.
God help me, but he looked like a bully. Stocky, with an 80s bowl cut and angry little grimace on his face.
And over he marched, right up to my son, and with two hands shoved him so damn hard I thought he would knock him over.
Shoved him like a grown ass man starting a bar fight, about to swing.
Not today, kid.
Before I was over there in .5 seconds, my voice was screaming. “HEY! ABSOLUTELY NOT!!! WE DO NOT SHOVE! YOU DO NOT SHOVE!” As I got closer and yanked Antonio out of his reach, I continued, “YOU BETTER NOT EVER SHOVE MY SON!”
Antonio was shocked, scared and his feelings were hurt.
And this kid just turned to look at me like he was going to come after me next.
“Where is your mother? Whose kid is this?” I kept repeating loudly as I walked back to the tables. Everyone saw it but no one spoke up. NO ONE CLAIMED THIS KID.
I sat back down, and this little kid literally kept looking at me, giving me nasty faces and looks – to the point where me and my entire family were literally flabbergasted not only at his actions, but where the hell were his parents?!
I took Antonio to the bathroom and as much as I WANTED to hug him and console him, I didn’t. I got down to his level, I looked in his eyes and I told him, “Don’t you EVER let ANYONE lay a hand on you, push you or hit you. Do you hear me? You stand up for yourself, you tell them that it’s wrong and to not treat you that way. And if someone ever hits you or hurts you, you defend yourself and fight back. But don’t EVER hit someone first. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am” was all he said.
If I coddled him, he would remember that. If I cried, he would get sad. I hoped to empower him in that moment, so that he never again felt as scared as he did. Because unfortunately, that won’t be the last time he is shoved or hit. And as much as I cannot imagine not being with him 24/7, I know I cannot always be there to stand up for him or protect him.
As we were packing up to leave, I saw the kid finally stop playing and walk to the table… BEHIND US…
So, I turned around. And there was a huge table of approximately 12 people, some in scrubs, having a business lunch meeting. And there was his mother, with a small baby, trying to listen to the meeting, feed her baby a bottle, and completely oblivious to what her older son was doing (my heart went out to her, because I would not want to be in her shoes.)
I don’t blame the little boy. His actions are learned behaviors. Whether he is bullied by an older sibling or witnesses bullying/pushing – it’s proof that we are the way we are for a reason. And it’s a painful reminder at how influential children are and how important it is as parents to shape them with attention and love.
So, share with me, have you ever witnessed another child shove and/or hit yours in public? And if so, how did you handle it?
