Scene: Dallas Airport at one of the many mini Starbucks in the American Airlines Hub. Ordering coffees at Starbucks, now nicknamed Fourbucks.
Actors: Myself, your friendly All Things Considered host; My Father, your half Italian, Pittsburgh Stealers fan, Magellan antithesis; A disheveled, angry faced mother and her two terrors; A very stylish, mid 40s woman.
What happens next clearly indicates the children are lacking in executive functions learned during old fashion child's play; "good self-regulation, able to control their emotions and behavior, resist impulses, and exert self-control and discipline." (stated by NPR's Alix Spiegel)Hear the report HERE.
In other words, these kids were loud, overly emotional, hitting each other and their mother, unable to resist the impulse to whine and had no self control or discipline.
Before I go on let me say that I dig kids. I love them. Want some of my own some day.
I wanted to smack these children.
We heard them coming before we saw them. The little girl, maybe 8, was screaming at her mother to give her a jacket. Then she would fake cry. Then her brother, maybe 9 or 10, shouted he wanted a mocha. When they turned the corner I saw two overly plump, Caucasian kids. The little girl grabbed the back of her mother's purse strings and pulled the woman to a hault!
"STOOPPP! I WANT IT NOOOWWW!" The little girl stomped her feet (so 1st grade darling!) and screamed...SCREAMED "IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE IT IS THEN YOU WILL BUY ME ANOTHER ONE FOR $100!" Then her brother punched her in the arm - she cried. He shouted to his mother, "I DON'T CARE. SHUT THE HELL UP!"
OMG. OMG. No he didn't. I looked at my father with eyes asking, "Did he just say that?"
My father whispered loudly in my ear, "Wonder who's fault that is?"
I said to him, "I am this close to going over there and talking to that little girl."
Dad: "Nah. Don't bother. It's none of your business."
We heard more screaming and whining while waiting for our coffees. We noticed the disgusted looks on everyone's faces. One woman looked at me and said, "That family needs to be on Nanny 911!"
As we left my Dad said, "I hope they're not on our plane!"
They were. With Grande Mocha Frappes and whipped cream.
So after I heard the report on Morning Edition about executive function and child's play...I thought of those two kids. Maybe unplug them from the video game console, open the door and tell them to play. With what? Their imagination. Have them make their own rules, follow them, learn some self regulation and contemplation.
Then offer some help to the mother.
Am I being too harsh here? My COMMENTS has taken a vacation...I'm looking into where it went so in the meantime, email me your thoughts for posting sramella@wsu.edu
FROM ROBIN RILETTE
Sueann,
About seven years ago I was in Tacoma visiting my best friends from college. At the time they had a four year old, Eva, and a two year old. Eva was on a play date with another little girl. Their youngest was napping upstairs. Lynn and I were sitting on the front porch when the mother drove up in her van with Eva and her little friend. Everyone got out of the van and congregated on the sidewalk for goodbyes. Everything was going swimmingly until Eva wanted her stuffed animal back. The other little girl then proceeded to pitch a fit of monumental proportions. Eva didn’t grab the toy, she didn’t punch the other little girl or scream at her she just wanted her toy back. The little girl would have none of it. Lynn and I stood there, almost transfixed, by what happened next.
First, the mother started pleading with the little girl. “_________, please, please, please give back the toy to Eva. Please listen to mommy, honey.” You get the idea. All the time the little girl is screaming her head off, crying and flailing around. The highlight came when she took off down the street carrying Eva’s toy with her mom chasing after her saying, “Honey, please stop. Please listen to Mommy. Please give Eva back her toy.” At this point, I had retreated to the safety of the porch to watch the horror unfold before me. Eventually, the girl was persuaded to give up the toy and persuaded to get in the van. It took quite some time.
After they left and Eva had calmed down and gone upstairs for a nap Lynn came back outside and sat down on the porch with me. There was a long silence. Then she said, “Robin, what do you think of what just happened?” I hesitated and finally said, “I’m not a parent, so I don’t feel qualified to say anything.” “I really want to know what you think,” replied Lynn. “Well,” I replied, I have a question. Who was in charge? Because it certainly wasn’t the mom.” I’ll never forget that mother following that child, pleading and literally begging for her cooperation.
I told Lynn that my mom was not perfect, but I know that I would never have been allowed to behave in that manner. My mom would have firmly grabbed my arm, pulled the toy away from me, told me in no uncertain terms that the toy was NOT mine, would have made ME give it back and if I’d whined and continued crying would have swatted me on the behind, put me in the car and driven away. My mother was in charge and I needed her to be in charge. I also needed her to teach me how to control myself, how to return borrowed objects and how to be respectful.
Okay, I feel better. J
By the way, my friend Lynn and her husband Jeff are excellent parents. They are loving, firm, compassionate and disciplined and are teaching these qualities to their children who are a pleasure to be around. Their Auntie Robin loves them dearly.
Robin
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