A lazy toddler?!

I debated if I even wanted to write this. I probably shouldn’t. But I’m going to. I might regret it, but I have to get it out of my brain, and wouldn’t mind your input, to be honest.

The other day, I had some time to kill before “collecting” (that’s what they call it here) my son from school, so I stopped in to a local coffee shop to write a little bit. I was pleased to see it was quiet — with just a mom and a young boy nestled in the back with food and her laptop. So, I settled in toward the front (no need to crowd her), flipped open my laptop — and right as my fingers were about to hit the keys, I heard…

SLAP

My head naturally whipped up and turned in the direction of the noise — which was now the young boy doing that awful hyperventilating cry toddlers do when really upset, and my mom gut started doing somersaults. His mom was cleaning up the food he dropped and she looked angry. She was muttering something to him as he kept wailing and trying to catch his breath. A customer near the front by me, who was waiting for her coffee, had also heard the slapping noise, and was looking in the same direction I was. We caught each other’s eye and both of our jaws were dropped. I asked, “Did you…hear that” and she nodded. She made an exaggerated sad face, grabbed her coffee and left.

Ugh. Ok.

I couldn’t really focus on anything else at this point except the angry mom, the howling boy and thinking about what the hell that noise was — did she hit him? Was I imagining it? Did she hit the table? No, it sounded like skin contact, but I’m not 100% sure, but why else would he cry like THAT?!

Look, I don’t judge a lot of parenting decisions — every child (and parent) is different. Since becoming a mom, I’ve obviously realized how hard it is, and how some days you can snap. When it comes to hitting, though — it’s a hard “no f*cking way” for me. Not only does it just feel wrong, there have been numerous studies on the negative psychological effects of physical discipline on kids. I’ll happily send you the sources if you want to fight me on this.

Anyway, back to the scene that was still unfolding during the time it took you to read that last paragraph. The mom (also not 100% sure it was the mom, as there are a lot of nannies in my area) was now back at the table from throwing out the napkins and the boy was still crying hard. She knelt down, went close to his face and talked in a low voice to him, and I thought, OK…she seems to care, so maybe she didn’t do what I think she did. At least, I hoped not. I decided to try to refocus and talked myself into chalking this up to her having an overwhelmed mom moment and thought, maybe I imagined the slap? Maybe she hit the table. Yes, she hit the table. Remember, you’re not in New York. I don’t know what that has to do with anything, really, but…move on, Amanda.

…But then why did that customer hear it, too? Ugh. I shut my laptop because nothing was getting done now.

My eyes went back to the mom and boy. He was still sniffling, but quieter now. The mom was back on her laptop. I painted a compassionate picture in my head that she was studying/working and juggling being a mom, too. Then, I remembered I had promised my son I would bring him a sweet treat for after school, so I had an idea to ask the mom if I could get the little boy something, too? Yes, I know this sounds like overkill, but I genuinely wanted to do something nice…and FINE — I wanted to suss out the situation/vibe a little more. But, I mainly wanted to do something nice to help both of them out.

I packed up my things and walked toward the back, intending to use the ladies room and then ask her on my way out. As I was walking past, I heard her berating him, saying “You are lazy. You know that? You are just lazy” in the cruelest tone I’ve ever heard, as his red face was tear-stained and the little orange glasses he wore were crooked. He looked up at her with a look I’ll never forget — it was begging her to stop. And, her face? She looked positively proud of herself for the horrible words coming out of her mouth to this little angel. I stood behind the wall in front of the ladies room and felt sick. She kept going. “You act like a baby, and can’t even eat properly. You’re almost 3 years old, my God. You’re not a baby, so why are you so lazy? Why? Why?!”

That last 'why’ sent me over the edge. I couldn’t help it. I’ve seen plenty of parents disciplining their children in public, in many different situations. I’ve never seen anything like this.The slap sound from before echoed in my head, and I stepped out from behind the wall and said something.

to be continued (tomorrow)…