Guest Post: The Best Parents Are The Ones That Don’t Have Children.

As a parent, I absolutely love the perspective and comments of my non-“breeder” friends. (Usually-there are some rather large exceptions to this.)
Aside from getting a chance to live vicariously in a world that is not, generally, dominated by breastfeeding debate, finding the best BPA-free feeding utensils and being immersed in other peoples feces, the childless insight into parenting can be enlightening. Sometimes we parents get so wrapped up in our kids that we can’t see what is plainly obvious to an outsider.

So, I’m thrilled to be able to share with you this guest post on parenting by the amazing @kindalikethis ( Who blogs regularly here.)

Enjoy!

The Best Parents Are The Ones That Don’t Have Children.

To tell you the truth, this is the first time in my life I have heard this phrase. Since the few days that have passed, I have been told it’s common? Anyways, I’m not a parent. And because I’m not a parent, I’m not one to tell someone how to raise, or discipline their child. But I AM a woman, and therefore I have maternal instincts, and a natural care toward children.

Last week I was on vacation in LA with my mom for her birthday. Disneyland. While in line for a ride, it kept stopping. They weren’t telling people to get out of line unless they knew it would be down for more than 30 minutes. So, needless to say, those of us in line were waiting for a while, and were tired. It was hot. A bunch of kids were walking around in costume, and little girls everywhere where wearing princess dresses; Belle, Cinderella, Snow White… you get it.

I think it would be sort of dumb for someone not to expect their children to sit on the hand-rails. I mean, in all my life I’ve never understood why they don’t put some sort of bench all along or something! I can hear a father telling his daughter behind me not to sit on the hand railing, because she was sitting on the bottom row and her dress was touching the ground. Hey, I understand, have you seen how expensive those things are?

I, my mother, and about six other people were all leaning against the rail ahead of them. I keep hearing him say to ‘get off the hand rail’ and she keeps saying she’s ‘not on it.’ After a few minutes of this, we, myself and the others leaning on the rail in line, start to feel a sort of jerking/knocking on the rail. I had my sunglasses and mini-mouse head-band ears on, and kind of turned to see what was going on.

This girl was maybe 8 or 9, and the dad was about as tall as, if not a little shorter than me. I’m 5’2”. His hands were wrapped around her wrists so tight her skin around his fingers was white. He was banging her elbows against the railing so hard, it was shaking six grown people along this rail. After a couple of times I finally couldn’t just sit there anymore and I yelled “EXCUSE ME!” really loud and he looked at me with this shocked look on his face.

–Side Note–
If you know me personally, or have followed any of my blogs for long enough, you’ll know I’m not afraid to voice my opinion and I don’t give two shits about my ‘language’ or ‘my mouth’ either. Fuck that. Freedom of speech exists and I waited a long time as a kid and a teen under my mothers roof to ‘do whatever I wanted’ when I was ‘grown up’ so fuck that fucking shit!

Without using a ‘language’ a parent would – hopefully – not want their young child to hear, I told him, in a VERY loud voice, that I understood she was HIS child and he has every right to discipline her. He was about to say something and I put my hand up, which basically was in his short ass face, and I told him if I saw him do it one more time I was going to report him to security. I told him if that’s the way he “disciplines” his child, I highly suggest not doing it in public if he doesn’t want someone doing something about it!

By the time I was done we had about 20 people staring at us. And a few giving me a “thumbs up” with a smirk on their face. I turned back around and left it at that. He didn’t say a word! Just stared at me! After a while I can hear the mother making comments about how she wouldn’t have been so nice, and ‘let someone say something’ to her. Excuse me? Where was she five minutes ago when I was yelling at her husband, a complete stranger? About HER daughter? ‘The fuck? I almost turned around and asked her if she didn’t speak until spoken to just to be a bitch, but it was Disneyland, and my mom’s birthday, so I ignored it. But honestly, you either say something then, when it’s happening right in front of you, or shut the fuck up. Period.

Say what you want, I believe in “physical” child discipline. As in yes, I believe in spanking! Anyone in my generation, or the generations before will say that their parent’s discipline is what kept them from being a prison inmate today, or being dead, or whatever. It’s what kept them from being stuck in a room all summer instead of being at the beach. The generations after me have no idea of this discipline, because all of a sudden, it’s bad to slap your kid. I don’t fucking think so, I think kids now have no clue and that’s why you read the news about teenagers being arrested for murder. MURDER! How bad if your life at 14 and 15 to kill someone for a gold chain and an ipod! Really! Go ride a fucking bike, go swimming, try to experience a god damned childhood for fucks sake.

But there is a fine line you walk being a parent who chooses to touch your child while disciplining them, and I believe that there is absolutely no reason for a parent to be slamming his young, small, frail daughter’s bony elbows into a metal railing hard enough to shake about a thousand plus pounds of people leaning on it. This thing is cemented into the ground. Really. You do the math.

After another twenty minutes of standing there waiting for this ride – god damnit we came all the way there and it was her birthday, we were going to ride this thing if it was the last fucking thing we did – I pretended as if I were going to ask the attendant how much longer we had to wait, which I did, but I also turned him in and told the guy the whole story anyways. When we got to the front, finally, they had security just chillin’, watchin. But I was told that there’s not a whole lot they can do unless they actually see him doing it again. All they can do it report it and keep and eye on them.

Enough for me. I said what I needed to say and it didn’t happen for the rest of the duration of them being directly behind us in line. Who knows what they do at home if they do that kind of crap in public! But I am the type of person who is going to say something if I feel something is out of line. I’m not a ‘bystander’.

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