A tiger mom and the jungle

When your first child is born, it is easy to assume that every milestone and every experience plays out the same way for everyone.  Your parenting advice will work for everyone because it worked for you.  Sometimes that's true, and sometimes it's not.  Sometimes, when you see something happening, it's easy to say "I would never do that."  Sometimes that's not true.  This time, I'm pretty sure it is.

Last Wednesday, we took Isla to Junglerrriffic.  If you've never been to Junglerrriffic, think Gymboree, in the Jungle, with lots of stuff to climb on.  Unfortunately, Isla isn't old enough to fully take advantage of all that these places have to offer.  In fact, when we got there, she ran passed the jungle gym, ignored the mini rollercoaster, and came to a screeching halt in front of a small car that you can either push or ride.  The excitement on her face would lead you to believe she didn't have the exact same one in our living room.

What we don't have in our living room is 30 other kids clamoring for the same toys.  She mostly gets "mommy time."  When mommy is at work, it's supplemented by Daddy, Aunt Judy, B, and Supergrams time.  She'll share with us, but anyone else is getting clocked if they try to perform a duet on the tiny piano with her.

Even though Isla couldn't care less about the mini rollercoaster, I was intrigued.  She was going to ride it, and she was going to like it. I brought her over to the middle of the playroom, where the rollercoaster was.  It was situated directly in front of one of the sitting areas.  As Isla was contemplating the coaster, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.   There was a mom in the sitting area.  I was having trouble figuring out whose mom, because she had some sort of condition that made it impossible for her to look anywhere other than at her hand.  Good thing there was an iPhone in it or she might have gotten really bored.  She stared at that phone as if it was the only thing that mattered in the whole world.  Every once in a while she would laugh, then furiously type, but never wavered in her commitment to her hand.  Somewhere in this jungle her child was playing, apparently completely unattended.

If it was a movie, this would be the part where you see everything slow motion. The part where everyone's voice drops three decibels, and you are sure you can move fast enough to avoid disaster.  Two boys (both entirely too old to enjoy the Junglerrriffic experience) ran in front of me.  One of them pushed the other.  Isla, the coaster car, and boy number two (that I will Mikey) all collided and landed in a pile.  Isla was at the bottom.  The reason that I know his name was Mikey is because his mom immediately yelled "MIKEY! YOU APOLOGIZE RIGHT NOW!" I thought that was nice.  After all, he was the one who was pushed. I still don't know boy number one's name.  I was, however, starting to get an idea of who his mom might be.

Isla was fine.  Me, not so much.  "I'm not cut out for this", I told TJ.  I knew the look in his eyes.  I had seen it once before at Sesame Place when I started a fight with a four year old that was disagreeing with everything Isla said. "That's not a ball, it's a Christmas light!" "His name isn't Melmo.  It's Elmo."

"She can call him Bob if she wants to." Isla didn't have to take his crap.  TJ just shook his head.  "You do realize that you are arguing with a four year old." I did realize.  But, I didn't care.

This time my fury wasn't directed at Mikey, or boy number one...yet. These things happen, right? I picked up Isla and put her back in the toddler area.  She was safer there, even if all of the little toys were covered in some other kid's saliva.

I couldn't believe what I saw next.  Boy number one was WALKING ON THE WALL that separated the two areas.  He was wobbling right above Isla's head, about to fall.  I lost it. It was Sesame place all over again.  "If my kid gets hurt, I'm not going to be happy."  TJ told me that I should just protect Isla and not yell at the other kid. "I'm not yelling at him.  I'm trying to get his mom to make it stop."  I don't have to tell you how successful I was.  She didn't say a word. She just smiled at him. I think she was proud of his balancing abilities.  Hey...whatever gives her another minute with her hand.

I shouldn't have let her steal my Zen.  We were having some great family time. On the other hand, if your child is old enough to run around without being monitored for an hour, he's too old for a place like this.   Trust me, I get it. If you've been locked in a house with him all day, every day, for a week you are due for a break.  Schedule a karate class for him.  Or, in this case, a gymnastics class would probably do nicely.  Don't take him somewhere, set him loose, and flick off your mom switch. Maybe it's just me. I would never do that.