Playground Justice

I took my boys to the mall playground yesterday.

They love that stupid place.

For one thing, it's inside.  For another, it's got a cookie store and a candy store right around the corner. 

The area is really designed for littles 5 & under.  I figured we were OK because #2 is 6 and #3 is almost 4.  (#1 is on a camping trip with his dad). 

I warned the kids that they had to be careful of little kids.  I reminded them that I would be watching.

Then I watched. 

I watched them jump.  I watched them run.  I watched them climb. 

I watched the other kids too.  For some reason, every boy in there was named Luke & every girl was Nevaeh. (Plus Paul.)


I know that because every time I told Luke to be careful, six or seven little boys looked at me for a minute before determining that I was not admonishing them. 

Also, one mom spent her time between sucking on her grande moacchino, checking her iPhone and occasionally screeching "Nevaeh!  Stop it!  Nevaeh.  Niv-E-YAH!" 

All the other Nevaehs looked up, while the targeted Nevaeh continued to pound on the fish tank or pull on some Luke's hoodie or climb on the potted plants.

She was a little hyper.  Whaddya gonna do?  Kids are hyper.

I try not to be Judgy McJudgermom.  I try SO HARD.

Because my kids aren't perfect. 

But the more I watched Nevaeh, the judgier I got. 

She was wearing a spaghetti strap top.  It's Texas, and pretty warm here, but not spaghetti-strap top warm.  Yes, my son was in shorts, but that's completely different.   Nevaeh is starting to develop, and spaghetti strap tops are not her friend.

She was mean to the other kids.  Not just pushy - she was mean.  She frequently pushed her way to the front of the slide line, and knocked kids out of the way at the fish tank.  She stuck her tongue out at one of the Lukes. 

Every now & then, she ran to her mother to get a pull off the grande moacchino. 

I wouldn't have been surprised to see her mother give her a drag off a cigarette.

I noticed another mom eyeing Nevaeh as well.  Every time Nevaeh did something obnoxious, other mom & I would exchange eye rolls. 

Finally, Nevaeh pushed Paul. 

PUSHED him.

As he tearfully came to me for comfort, I looked at Nevaeh's mom to see if she noticed.  She was too involved in her pinterest account to notice that her kid was being a bully.

I hugged and consoled Paul and looked for Luke.  It was time to go. 

Luke -- my Luke, not the other Lukes -- was chasing Nevaeh. 

"Hey!" he yelled "Hey!  You PUSHED my brother!".  He maneuvered himself in front of her and forced her to acknowledge him. 

"You PUSHED him" Luke reiterated.

"Sorry" said Nevaeh.

"You need to tell him," insisted Luke, and he steered Nevaeh over to us.

"Sorry," said Nevaeh to Paul.  She patted him on the shoulder and then tore off to do more terror.

I didn't say anything to Nevaeh or to her mother.  Nothing I said was going to make any difference, and I am pretty sure that had I said something, I would have gotten a very aggressive retort.  I didn't need to get into a mom-brawl in front of my kids.

I figured Luke did a pretty good job of handling it. 

Playground Justice was served.

Water Baby

We go to the beach a lot.  We love the beach.  This weekend, while at the beach, a little girl came by to play with the boys.   I love that about kids.  They see another kid & they just start to play together. 

And this girl is ADORABLE. She has beautiful cafe-con-leche skin; crazy, happy hair with a tiny blue barrette in it, and a precious pink gingham bikini.  This child was friendly and very charming. This is the kind of child that makes me wish (a tiny bit) that I had a little girl.

What she didn't seem to have were parents.

I asked where they were & she said "they are in the white car". . .I looked -- saw the white car, but no parents.

Her name is Olivia, and she is 3.

THREE. Almost 4, apparently, but still. She's 3.

The waves at Bob Hall Pier are not too bad, but it's very easy to get out too far without realizing it. Especially if you are 3.

My son is 3 and I won't let him NEAR the water without me or his dad. I won't let the 6 or 9 year olds near the water without me or their dad.

I have this thing about water safety. I think it is important.

I think that one of the duties a parent has is to ensure that children are safe around water.  Pools, lakes and beaches.  Beaches with strong undertows that can sweep a child out into the ocean as fast as you can say David Hasselhoff.

We could not see this girl's parents anywhere.

When it was time to go, I said "Olivia honey, we have to go. Let's go find your mommy, OK?"

She said "No -- I am going to find some other kids to play with" and she skipped over to another family playing not far away.

I approached the family and explained: "I don't know who she is, but I am going to call the ranger. Can you keep an eye on her?"  The Mom said "I thought she was yours".

I wish.

By the time I got to the car -- Viola! Her mother shows up.

Her mother looks just like you'd think she'd look. 19. Tramp Stamp. Piercings.  Gangster Boyfriend who obviously is not Olivia's daddy.  (How do I know?  Olivia is clearly half white and half black.  Gangster Boyfriend is clearly Hispanic.  Not Olivia's daddy.) 

It's not that I have a problem with moms being 19 with tramp stamps and piercings and Gangster Boyfriends. (well, the 19 & Gangster Boyfriend parts aren't cool). I do have a problem with letting your 3 year old play by the water without proper supervision.

Sigh. Poor Olivia.