How to Be Helpful to Parents in Public

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Jenny Kanevsky offers much needed guidance for what to do and what not to do when you see parents struggling with their kids.

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You see it everywhere. A mom is in the grocery store; her child wants food or is whining. Whatever she does to handle this, whether it be to open a box of cereal as she shops and let the child eat, or say “no,” someone walks by with a “Tsk, tsk, they’ll never learn if you spoil them.” Or, “Oh, what a cutie, get him a doughnut.” How about mind your own business, or better yet, see that I am struggling and offer support? Either keep quiet or support your fellow parent, and human being. Recognize that tantrums are hard to deal with, public ones that much more so. Maybe throw out an “It gets better, you’re doing great.” Or a knowing smile. You’d be amazed what a kind look from another can do when you are close to tears because you’re tired, embarrassed, your child is suffering, and you are trying to parent them with the world watching.

Being a parent is hard. “The toughest job you’ll ever love,” right? Go to the Parenting section of any bookstore, and you’ll see row after row of “how-to” books on parenting, by age, by gender, by special need, by Attachment, tough love, cry-it-out, you name it, there’s a method. You could read every book, even those with contrary premises and find something helpful in each. Every child has different needs. And those needs change and evolve. Each parent has something to give, in their own way. There is no “if you do this, you will be a successful parent” list to follow. Guidelines for age appropriate behavior be damned, every child is unique and that child’s parent, mother or father, is the best person to determine the child’s real needs. Parents know best. You know your child, you know in your gut if a stomach ache, pun intended, is a virus, or an “I’m scared of something.” If you really listen, if you trust yourself, and if you don’t let the books, and guidelines and judgments of others bring you down.

The Orange Rhino, a Blogger and mother of four boys recently posted an article on The Huffington Post entitled What To Say to All Moms. It’s a list of things moms, and I’d argue dads as well, need to hear about their parenting. There are the so-called Mommy Wars in the blogoshpere these days, because there is too much judgment. Assumptions are made in an instant, and then unsolicited advice or commentary from strangers gets passed along while you, the parent, are in your most vulnerable and possibly close-to-losing it state. Why? How is this helpful?

Men get it too. One of the most annoying things a father can hear is “Oh, you’re babysitting today, isn’t that cute? Mom gets a break. You’re such a good dad.” If he is the child’s father, he is not babysitting. He is parenting. And, just because he’s a man, that doesn’t mean he needs advice or kudos because he’s doing well. He fathered these kids. He knows them better than you do. Likely, he can handle whatever they are throwing at him. You can say something kind, or smile or say hello. Or, just move along and let him do his job. He’s a grown man and he’s the dad. He knows.

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When my youngest son was five, he had an impressive public tantrum that was eventually featured in the local newspaper. It was in the paper not because of its magnitude but because after, I wrote a letter to editor. I was livid. I was shamed and verbally ridiculed in public by many at a local mall, but most specifically, by a father with whom my son had been interacting. Eventually, that letter made it to a features writer and I was interviewed for an article in The Seattle Times: Public Tantrums Are a Parent’s Nightmare.

We were at a bookstore, my son’s favorite place then and now. We have spent countless spent hours reading, looking, buying and even smelling the pages. It is his Nirvana and mine as well. That day, after a five minute “we’re leaving” warning, my son lost it. He wanted to buy something. I had already told him we would not be buying anything. I heard this man, this man with whom my son had been chatting about dinosaurs and books, say to his wife, loud enough to hear over my son’s screaming, “I’m sure he gets what he wants all the time, no wonder he acts like that.” And I wanted to say “No, he doesn’t, I’m setting a boundary and he’s pushing it, and thanks a lot for being an asshole while I’m struggling, that’s helpful.” But, I didn’t. I had a job to do. My child was losing it. I couldn’t lose it too. His child, a girl of about 10 was sitting quietly reading. He continued his commentary as I finally had to pick up my tall, heavy, flailing son and carry him out of the store. We then had to pay for parking where a room full of people watched in horror as he shrieked in my arms. Finally, I looked over at one older woman wearing a you-just-murdered-my-poodle look and shouted “He’s FINE. He’s having a tantrum. You can all go back to your lives. He’s fine. Thanks for the help, by the way.” All eyes averted.

In hindsight, we had done one thing too many. But who knew until it happened? He was over-stimulated, overtired, and hungry. He would later be diagnosed with ADD which was a true face palm moment, because, of course, crowds, loud places, and too many activities. He had already shown me he needed predictability and routine to his day, as well as down and alone time. Plus, did I mention, he was five? Five-year-olds have tantrums. He was doing what he was supposed to do. Be a kid.

Bottom line, it is no one’s business how my child acts but my own. There are many reasons for a child to have a tantrum. One of which is because children have tantrums.

It’s simple, and the guidelines are few: help, don’t judge; support, don’t knock down or just walk away. It’s not your child. Helping can be anything from smiling with kindness, to offering to help to keeping your mouth shut. This is situational. Sometimes ignoring is best for all involved. Other times, you can intervene and redirect the child and tantrum over. You have to use your judgment.

The other day, I was at a store where a five year old was insisting on candy, candy, candy. His mom was exasperated. She engaged with me, had she not, I’d not have approached her son.

Her shoulders slumped, she looked at me with watery eyes and pleaded “It’s everything, I want this, I want that, I’m so tired.”

I smiled and said “It gets better, it’s the age; I know it’s hard right now.”

Put a five year old in a department store with rows of pretty colored candies, he’s been shopping for an hour, is bored out of his skull, and there’s bounty at the register. There are neat little rows of chocolates and mints, licorice and lollipops. I wanted candy too.

And then he upped the ante and started hitting things to indicate specifically what he wanted her to purchase. She was embarrassed, the line was moving slow, and she had let me in, so I made my move.

“How old are you?” I asked the boy when he looked up at me, he was performing, that much was clear. I figured he was about five. “Are you 10? I know you’re 15.”

He grinned. “I’m forty,” he said.

“Wow, you look good for forty.” The rest of the line laughed. He loved the attention and his shoulders relaxed, he soaked it in.

“I bet you like cats, want to see some pictures on my phone?” He nodded, came over and was mesmerized. His mom went to check out and shooed him toward me.

“Go; go see the lady and her pictures. I’m right here.”

And for two minutes, he was calm and we looked at pictures on my phone. And then they left. And no one got candy. But it was sweeter than candy. I helped her, she mouthed thank you, he said thank you, and community was built. That is how we raise children; together and by supporting each other. I don’t use this example to toot my own horn. I’m not down at the soup kitchens or taking in foster kids. I wish I could do more. But, I’m a single mom and these are the things that helped me when my kids were younger, so I pay it forward. I know how it feels to be alone, flop sweat, anxiety, exhaustion, and judgment. And I won’t do it to other parents.

My only caveat is if I see blatant abuse: a child locked in a car, a parent beating their offspring, something that is scary, illegal or borderline; I will find someone to help. I don’t insert myself into these situations, but I will make sure someone calls the police or otherwise intervenes for the safety of all involved. It’s still not my business, but it is my responsibility.

Raising children is hard work. Most of the time parents are hard enough on themselves without strangers making it worse. Why not assume that every parent is doing his or her best? And, if you’re let in, help. If not, leave it alone. But send support in whatever way you can, a smile, a glance, a chat with the child or parent. Or by ignoring the person and allowing them to deal with their child without further scrutiny. Most of us are just putting one foot in front of the other and doing our best. I know I am.

Photo—hapal/Flickr

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