Parental Consideration

May 30, 2007 by Dave.

Saturday was one of those stifling summer days where the parents run faster to the ice cream truck than the kids. I was hoping an ice cream truck would show up at that time, around 6:00 pm. I was so thirsty after only an hour in the playground. I usually took Sophia to a playground called Robbins Farm which is in Arlington Heights and has that huge slide on the hill (see my “face plant” entry). However because of all the wood chips along the paths, it’s not a great place to ride a big wheel like Sophia’s, and I wanted her to finally ride on that thing outside. Still she wanted to go on the swings, which she had suddenly been fascinated with after years of hating them. So this was one park that I thought would work by the Mystic River, but wasn’t sure they had swings there. Sure enough they had swings.

We had already been there for an hour when we were ready to leave. Well, I was ready to leave, as my mouth was drying out. I said five more minutes, but I of course gave her another 2 minutes on the swing. It was lucky that I did. As I’m trying to get Sophia off the swings, I head someone calling my name. I look up and it’s my friend and minister, Hank, with his daughter Ruth over his shoulders. Turns out he lives up the block from the park (at least until he moves) and goes there all the time. Basically we had an unintended playdate because of a fluke. Sophia really likes hanging out with Ruth (who is two years younger than Sophia) so they had a fun time, and I got a chance to catch up with Hank.

It’s funny that Hank and I, who I’ve known since I was about 16 or so and knew each other from hanging out with at UU youth cons, are now parents hanging out with our kids in the neighborhood park. I think this dawned on me more as the conversation went on. We told me that he always goes to this park; I told him I always go to Robbins Farm.

“I always mean to go out there. That’s the one with the huge slide right?” Hanks said. I said yeah and that Sophia loves that park. “Did you know Wilson’s Farm has a free petting zoo?” Hank replied. I was listening to this and thinking is this what happens to teenagers from the ’70s/’80s who now have kids in their 30s? Conversations used to be “did you hear the new Ramones’ album?” “You gotta get the new Motorhead disc.” Now it’s about which are the best playgrounds to go to. I had to cringe and/or laugh a little at that realization.

While Sophia and Ruth were running up and around the new gymboree—plastic slides, treated wood bridges, rope ladders all on wood chip padding—Hank suddenly remembered when the jungle gyms were much different. We both remember those days. When the rope ladders were half-inch steel chains, the slides and swings were slabs of metal and the wooden bridges left you scuffed if you were lucky, with splinters if you weren’t. Those were our childhood days. Sophia complained that the slide was warm when it was in the sun too long. Not sure how she would have dealt with the metal slides back in the day, when the sun cooked a metal slide hot enough to burn your legs on the way down. That was half the fun in those days. The worst thing these days on the slides are, at worst, landing wrong at the bottom, and at best, static electricity. Ruth definitely had the static electric hairdo after a number of turns up and down the swing; sometimes I’m never sure if Sophia is going to remember how to stick the landing on the slides. We took Sophia and Ruth over to the swings and said to Hank, “Remember when the swings were metal, too?” The new ones of course are rubber and contour to a kids butt, however the one plus side the metal ones had was standing on them was so much easier. One of the parents overhearing our conversation had to ask just how old we were. That definitely brought me down to earth.

Sophia and Ruth had to take turns pushing a little baby in the swing. I’m not sure if that’s a big thing for the little girls or any older child in general. Being the big kid and able to help another kid. Ruth and Sophia got turns to be that for each other that day. Sophia got to help Ruth use her Dora big wheel bike, Ruth got to help Sophia climb up a rickety wooden bridge that Ruth pretty much runs up on a whim. Sophia cried every step up for the first few turns, then she figured it out. I don’t think I was ever that helpful as a kid. Then again I was a boy. Rather than try to help anyone, we were busy trying to do everything ourselves for the first time. Sophia definitely has that trait right now. You try to help her and she throws a fit.

It’s weird seeing a negative aspect of yourself put onto your own child. It’s especially hard trying to get her out of the habit that you yourself can’t seem to shake. It’s almost as if you’re watching your mistakes being put on another generation, but at the same time trying to correct them while still not doing anything about the root cause within you. It feels very hypocritical because it is, yet you’re not sure what else to do.

I know of the thought of having kids was always an ambiguous concept for me. When I was younger I could imagine if things were much better for me, farther in the future, the idea of having kids would be a possibility with the right person. In reality I never planned on it, never expected to have any. In fact, I knew I was probably better off not being a father, if only because I knew I was unstable as it was. Having a kid when you’re too self focused (not necessarily self-obsessed but definitely trying to see what you need that has to come first) is not the best situation. I feel that children suffer in such a situation. I know I had my problems with the same family dynamic growing up and I didn’t want to see that for anyone I wanted to bring into the world. Now I have to bite the bullet and be the authority figure I never really wanted to be, or at least be it when I’m not at my best to do so. That’s what it means to be a parent in these modern times.

It was getting late for Hank and he had to take Ruth home. Sophia and Ruth said their goodbyes and Hank and his daughter headed up the street to their house. I settled Sophia down and get her to tell me what she wanted for supper once we got home. First she says she wants a cheese sandwich, then she wants noodles; somewhere between the two I have to figure out her menu for the night. I’ve settled into my life these days and every day is simply trying to manage temper tantrums, strange games of hide and seek in a small apartment, and trying to figure out which playground to go to. She never did ride that big wheel that day though.

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