Turnabout Is Fair Play

Little Betty Button’s mother is talking about Scary Mothers over here this week.  I call them Paragons Of Parenting or POP’s for short.

You know the one’s who know exactly what’s wrong with your little poppet and just how your inadequate parenting is letting down the side. 

Every mother has a story about one of these well-meaning overbearing women.  Here’s mine.

When Hair One was about 2 1/2 I became friendly with another mom who was, in fact, young enough to be my daughter.  Despite her youth this POP seemed to have the whole parenting business nailed.  Her daughter was always clean, shared with ease and spoke full sentences in a lilting musical tone.

My poppet was usually dirty, often resorted to bopping rather than sharing and was still speaking in single words that only we understood.

By invitation we arrived chez POP one morning for a playdate.  To my horror there were tiny glass and china figurines on low shelves and tabletops all over the apartment.  As I scooped them all up and placed them out of reach I apologized profusely.

In return I received helpful advice a stern talking to.  It seems that Hair One’s difficulties could all be ascribed to my low expectations.  Moving breakables was a case in point.  Rather than rescue her treasured collection kitchy chotchkes I should have explained their importance to my lad and enjoined him to leave them be!  His inner need to meet with my expectations would lead him to gaze at the wee kitties and elves but keep his hands to himself.

Still and all we left them up there on the piano just in case.

Needless to say a second invitation was not forthcoming though we still met regularly at activity mornings and the park.

Flash forward 3 1/2 years.  POP had just popped out baby no. 3 so I went by her home with a gift. 

On crossing the threshold I could not help but notice that there was nothing – and by nothing I mean not a single crystal cat or china elf – visible below adult eye level.

It was plain as the nose on on an elf’s face that Baby Two would not be enjoined! 

As my eyes swept the room POP launched into profuse apologies.