Backseat Parenting - The Bruise on my Banana
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| Spot the hat. One clue: Not where it should be. |
I wanted to share with you what happened the other evening. On our walk home from nursery, Cian and I were victims of Backseat Parenting. A phrase I have coined to describe someone who offers up their opinion on your parenting without provocation. Basically, unwanted parenting advice. If I was submitting my expression to be entered into the dictionary, my definition would be:
Backseat Parenting (verb)
[Bak-seet-pair-uh n-ting]
'A person who offers unsolicited advice or criticism relating to your parenting.'
Sounds professional right? I did work quite hard on that, so I'd appreciate some laughs. So, what happened? Well, Cian and I were walking along the road, quite happily, as we always do. I try to walk from the house to work/nursery every day. It's good exercise and it saves me bus money. If I recall the situation correctly, we were walking along, minding our own business, and Cian was singing me a lovely rendition of Tayo the Little Bus. It's a lovely tune for those of you have not had the pleasure of hearing it, and it's a welcomed change from the very overdone Wheels on the Bus rendition he normally sings to me. Anyway, on this walk, we arrived at a set of traffic lights, and with it being winter, in Scotland, it was obviously pretty chilly. It was there, at those traffic lights, where we were confronted by the backseat parenter.
Traffic lights are the bain of my life. They are like the chewing gum on my shoe, the bruise on my banana. Why do I feel this way? Well, they are just inconvenient, both to pedestrians and drivers. I know you need them, I'm not unreasonable. But when it's cold outside, you don't want to stop every 3 minutes to let traffic passed. And if you do want to defy the highway code, and run across the road before it's your turn, you feel judged! You feel all eyes are on you! To be honest, I don't feel this judgement when I'm alone, but when I have Cian in the pram, I definitely do. I'm sure people think 'that lady is putting her son's life in jeopardy'. I'm pretty certain people think like that, because it definitely crosses my mind when other parents do it... Like only when it's semi-dangerous.
Anyway, waiting is not the only negative of traffic lights. The other, which is most relevant, and specific, to my story, is that at a set of red traffic lights, you cannot escape a backseat parenter. So back to my story. Visualise this. Cian and I were waiting at the traffic lights, and as is the nature of stopping at a set of lights, people started to gather. There were a few couples, and some singletons. Looking back, it was actually quite a diverse group of people. Both the young and old were represented in the pedestrian population. So from this population, one older lady, without acknowledging me or speaking to Cian, lifted Cian's jacket hood up over his head. Now, to be fair to Cian, he took it quite well. Which is typical, because if it had been me who had done that, oh god. I would have been shouted at. And there definitely would have been a tantrum. A long lasting tantrum that a sweet treat bribe may have or have not worked. We'll never know, the tantrum never happened.
Traffic lights are the bain of my life. They are like the chewing gum on my shoe, the bruise on my banana. Why do I feel this way? Well, they are just inconvenient, both to pedestrians and drivers. I know you need them, I'm not unreasonable. But when it's cold outside, you don't want to stop every 3 minutes to let traffic passed. And if you do want to defy the highway code, and run across the road before it's your turn, you feel judged! You feel all eyes are on you! To be honest, I don't feel this judgement when I'm alone, but when I have Cian in the pram, I definitely do. I'm sure people think 'that lady is putting her son's life in jeopardy'. I'm pretty certain people think like that, because it definitely crosses my mind when other parents do it... Like only when it's semi-dangerous.
Anyway, waiting is not the only negative of traffic lights. The other, which is most relevant, and specific, to my story, is that at a set of red traffic lights, you cannot escape a backseat parenter. So back to my story. Visualise this. Cian and I were waiting at the traffic lights, and as is the nature of stopping at a set of lights, people started to gather. There were a few couples, and some singletons. Looking back, it was actually quite a diverse group of people. Both the young and old were represented in the pedestrian population. So from this population, one older lady, without acknowledging me or speaking to Cian, lifted Cian's jacket hood up over his head. Now, to be fair to Cian, he took it quite well. Which is typical, because if it had been me who had done that, oh god. I would have been shouted at. And there definitely would have been a tantrum. A long lasting tantrum that a sweet treat bribe may have or have not worked. We'll never know, the tantrum never happened.
Honestly though, I didn't think too much of this hood lifting scenario. I thought it was probably the lady just being playful? But as we started walking across the road, this lady continued. She felt it was her duty to explain to me the importance of wearing a hat in this cold winter weather. She obviously thought I didn't know the benefit of wearing a hat? Maybe I looked foreign? Maybe it looked like this was my first ever winter? I have never claimed to be the sharpest tool in the shed, but even a moron could grasp that there has been a slight drop in temperature over the last few months, and a hat wouldn't go amiss in this current climate.
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| The most recent photo of him wearing his hat December 2017 |
I am sorry, but what parent out there, or human being for that matter, has the time or the patience to constantly battle with a toddler every journey outdoors, to keep their hat on? She didn't know what battle had occurred prior to that moment. I could have been battling with him for 30 minutes about it. Hell, he could now be traumatised from the mere mention of a hat. Dangerous game lady, very dangerous game. I mean in reality, no battle had occurred, because why would I fight a battle I know I would lose? I concluded that if this woman did have children, she must have glued their hats to their heads because no toddler I have ever met would always be so accommodating. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure unicorn children like this do exist, maybe they're the same perfect kids that actually sleep through the night?
Stay with me though, my favourite part of the story is yet to come... Otherwise really this is just a boring hat story, with a cool definition. We made it to the other side of the road, and thankfully the lady went one way, and Cian and I the other. Thank god. I wasn't up for hearing any more parenting advice. She definitely needed to work on her delivery. Don't get me wrong, I am all for feedback. Both solicited and unsolicited, that's how we learn right? But, warm me up a little for christ sake. Some small talk wouldn't go amiss. "Oh it's a really chilly night tonight isn't it?" Or, "I wish I had a lovely warm hood to put over my head". You know, just to get the conversation flowing a bit before you hammer me with your opinions.
Anyway, just as I was starting to play over the conversation in my head, and what witty rebuttal I could have thrown back in her face (I needed to know for next time, she could be lingering on my journey home in future). Cian made it all better. He turned to me, and asked, "Mummy, where did that man go?" MAN! MAN! I didn't even correct him. She deserved it.
Anyway, just as I was starting to play over the conversation in my head, and what witty rebuttal I could have thrown back in her face (I needed to know for next time, she could be lingering on my journey home in future). Cian made it all better. He turned to me, and asked, "Mummy, where did that man go?" MAN! MAN! I didn't even correct him. She deserved it.
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