Bad Parenting

“Mommy, look. I can do it mommy. I can do it. Watch me. Mommy. Mommy!”

I heard a young boy shout for attention in the park. He’s wobbling on his little bike, tongue sticking out, one leg down. Another push, and off he goes. Wobbly at first, swerving left and then picks up speed.

“Look mommy. I’m doing it!” His little face breaks out into a giant beam, and it makes me smile and look away from watching my own kids play.

The young boy’s mom is deeply engrossed in a conversation with another mom. She shouts a torrent of swear words to her son to hurry up behind her, and carries on walking.

Her choice of words are ones I cannot bring myself to repeat. Words that no kid should hear from his mother.

The young boy’s smile disintegrates into a scowl of determination to catch up to his mom.

Why do parents do this?

Why don’t we notice our kids’ milestones and achievements?

Why are we too busy talking to someone else, or looking at our cell phones or computers? Why do we let work seep into our private lives?

Family time is precious. Our kids are only young once. If we miss their milestones and achievements — those moments are gone. They’ll never come back again.

You miss out 100% of those important moments.

Your kid’s first steps. Their first A at school. Their first goal in sports. Their medals in competitions.

Milestone moments.

We miss so much when we don’t look up. When we don’t take notice.

What is more important than our own kids?

We’ve all done it. Ignored our kids.

We know it’s wrong, and we try to do better. Then we do it another time. The guilt sets in, and we start the perpetual cycle again.

The difference between the mother I saw and most of us, is how we react to our kids when we do look up.

Do you smile? Do you praise your kids? Are you genuinely happy for them? Do you wrap them in your arms?

Or, do you barely notice how hard your kids try to get your attention?

The mom I saw today was feral. She made my oldest son recoil and hide behind me at what she said to her toddler out loud. Several people stopped and stared at her.

My son said to me:

“Mommy, I’m glad you don’t talk like her.”

I put an arm around my son and told him that I would never use that kind of language with him or with anyone. It’s not how I speak.

I explained to my son that the young boy just wanted his mommy to notice his efforts to ride a bike. That his mommy’s harsh words were not the boy’s fault. He’d probably just taken his training wheels off and learned to ride a bike.

I almost shouted a “way to go,” but I held back because I didn’t want a torrent of swear words fired at me and my own kids.

It’s hard to stay silent when parents argue with their kids. I can’t stand it when parents swear at their kids. It happens in the food market, in the mall, in the park, even at school.

I hear it all the time.

It hurts me deeply. Every single time.

If parents use swear words and shouting in public, how do they speak to their kids behind closed doors?

What can we do to protect these kids?

I wish I could do more.

My name is Lizzy. I’m a trauma survivor, a wife, a mom, a teacher, and an author.

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