Parent or Friend? There *is* a Correct Answer.
Since it’s a day that ends in “y,” I’ve got the urge to rant about something.
Last night, Brian and I decided to go out for dinner. This is not abnormal for us – we eat out at least twice per week. It’s gotten a little more difficult with my foray into Weight Watchers land, but it’s something we really enjoy, and I can make it work.
So, we arrived at the restaurant around 7:00 pm. We were led to one of those mini booths (you know the ones that are half the size of a “real” booth). Directly across from our booth, a group of tables was arranged to accommodate a party of six adults and (at least) six children (ages ~5-10). The adults sat at one end, the kids at the other.
As soon as we sat down, we noticed the noise. A simple conversation between us was impossible because the children were yelling and screaming at a pretty consistent level. I kept expecting the parents to settle the rowdy group down, but instead, they ordered more drinks (beer and wine) for themselves. The kids were running around the tables with forks and knives in their hands, climbing over furniture, and disrupting the meals of everyone in the general vicinity of their table. And isn’t 7:30 pm on a school night a little late for dinner? Don’t these kids have bedtimes? For all of this, I blame the parents.
After 15 minutes of this craziness, I asked (by yelling) Brian what he wanted to do. He yelled back that he thought we should try to get another table. Since our server hadn’t even taken our drink order (something else that drives me crazy – it had been 15 minutes!), we figured it wouldn’t be a problem to move to another part of the restaurant.
Brian walked over to the hostess station and waited. And waited. He stood there for a full five minutes before a server (not the hostess) came over to see what he needed. The server must have told the hostess because she finally came to speak with us. She had to get up close to my ear to (rudely) tell me that there were no additional tables available. I told her that since our server hadn’t bothered to take our order after 15 minutes, and we’d be forced to eat our dinner in a playground, we’d be leaving. I’m sure she called me some colorful names after we left, but I really don’t care.
What is it with parents these days? Seriously, I can’t go to a store or restaurant or even a doctor’s office without seeing (and hearing) unruly children. I really don’t understand. Do they think that their kids will like them better if they offer no discipline? They’re so wrong. Not only will the kids ultimately resent the lack of boundaries, they’ll also have absolutely no respect for their parents.
It really makes me sad because I know that deep down, these are probably good kids. They’re just being raised poorly. When (if) I’m a parent, my children will know that certain behavior is acceptable at certain times and places. They will be loved and cherished, but they’ll also be taught. If we’re at Chuck E Cheese or some other kid’s restaurant, then rowdy behavior is appropriate. But, if we’re at a regular restaurant (or grocery store or doctor’s office, etc.), where adults are trying to have a quiet dinner after a long day at work, we will be considerate of them. It’s not mean or unfair, it’s just good manners and children need to learn them.
The bottom line is that parents have to stop trying to be their kids’ friends. That is not your role in your child’s life. It is your responsibility to ensure that your children know right from wrong and good from bad. Teach them that although they are the center of *your* world, they’re not the center of *the* world. You can love and nurture your kids without letting them get away with murder. Yes, it takes a lot more work, and consistency is essential. But remember, your kids don’t want or need a friend in you; they want and need a parent. They will respect and love you more for it in the end.
Themocracy
I agree with you completely. My children would not have even THOUGHT about getting out of their seats at a restaurant or running around in a doctor’s office. They were told to lower their voices if they became a little too loud (usually due to excitement) and they did so without a problem. Do they respect me for that? I certainly hope so!
Love, MOM