When a Trip to the Park Makes You Question Your Parenting

Monday [the 26th of January] was the perfect winter day for our first bike ride to the park this year.  JP took a nap (with a lot of my prompting) in an attempt to have enough energy to go to the park when Hunter came home from school. Just as soon as he hopped off the bus, we gathered our stuff to get ready to go to the dinosaur park. I said we were taking our bikes, but strong-willed Hunter opted to take his new scooter. I tried to reason with him, but with no luck. Before I even had a moment to stop him, he was already half way down the road trying to catch up with JP, who was on his new Ninja Turtle bike.

From the moment we left, I knew this trip wasn't going to be as fun as I had hoped it would be. As soon as we came to our first intersection, Hunter stopped a little past the middle. I attempted to keep my bike from crashing into him, but the bike carrier with Charlotte in it took him out instead. Did I mention there was not one but two vehicles waiting for us to clear the intersection so they could turn? Now I had an injured kid sprawled out on the road, and the other one half a block ahead of us. After shouting at JP to stop and getting Hunter across the street and out of the way, we collected ourselves and continued on. (I tried to reason with Hunter that now would be a good time to go back and get his bike since his legs were getting tired. No luck.)

 As I cursed the city for not having sidewalks leading up a hill to the trail, we made it across the street and up the incline to safety. Not much further down the trail, we stop again because Hunter was too tired to go any further. I loaded up his scooter (which is *much* easier than a bike) into the back of the carrier and he climbed in with Charlotte. (I can't tell you how out of shape I am! Good Lord he's heavy!)By the time we made it to the park, I was winded, to say the least.

We were the only ones there for about 10 minutes before two older boys and maybe a 3 1/2 year old girl showed up with their mom, who sat in the truck the whole time talking on the phone. We played at the park for about thirty minutes, long enough for me to rest up for the trip home, and leaving enough time to get dinner started before Perry came home. Just as we were getting ready to go, the little girl stood by the swings shouting to her mom to come help her. Eventually she did, but was still on her phone the whole time. Maybe it was an important call...? As we put our helmets on, I so desperately wanted to cry for her kids as she shouted at the top of her lungs for the whole neighborhood to hear. I don't recall what she said exactly, but standing only a foot away from one of the boys, she shouted that he needed to grow up and act his age and to stop fighting with his brother. When she was done with him, she let the other brother have her verbal lashing. Before heading back to her truck, she shouted at the little girl that she wasn't going to push her anymore on the swing because there was so many other things she could play on which didn't require her help.

I felt helpless. Appalled that someone could shout like that to their kids. I'm not a perfect mom, far from it, and I've snapped many times at home. I wanted to say something or do something for those kids to know they were okay and didn't deserve that lashing. Yes the boys had been fighting, but nothing I wouldn't expect from siblings. But I didn't say a thing - we left and I felt terrible. I made a mental note to myself not to act like that mom did - shouting and dismissing their needs because of more important things, like whoever was on the phone.

The bike ride home confirmed to me why I knew this trip wasn't going to be fun. There is a small portion of sidewalk, rather, raised pavement, that has a huge tree right next to it. It's always a pain for me to bike under it while ducking to miss the branches, but the most challenging thing for the kids is biking over the roots that have pushed the pavement upwards. It's rough on a bike, but impassable for a beginner scooter. Hunter quickly learned as he fell off a few times. I'm sure this is what set him off for the rest of the trip home. By the time we made it to the busy intersection up ahead, he insisted on crossing, whereas I insisted we were waiting for the cars to clear the intersection. I waved a few through as the four of us stood on the corner waiting to cross. I held onto my stubborn child's arm to prevent him from crossing and felt terrible for doing it. Just as I had suspected, as soon as I let his arm go, he made a quick dash to cross the street and nearly scooted into a truck who was turning the corner. If they hadn't been staring us down, they might have hit him. I had just enough time to snatch his arm back and pull him back to the sidewalk. Why oh why must you be so defiant?!

When we had the intersection to ourselves, we all crossed together and took "the shortcut" home, which is down one of the through streets in our neighbor, as opposed to going another half a block to get back on the trail. I kept calm and collected, even through the incident on the corner, as we rode home, reminding the boys to keep to the side of the road. And then I lost it. JP started veering too far off the side of the road and there was a vehicle coming up behind us. After telling him insistently to "get to the side of the road," he didn't so I snapped, and urged maybe a little too desperately, for him to get over because of the car behind us. Again I felt terrible as a mom from the house we were just about to bike pass started yelling encouragements at us like, "Good job guys!" "You're doing good!" "Keep it up!" Now I feel like that mom at the park shouting at her kids. All I could muster up to say as we passed was, "Thanks. This would be so much less stressful if we had sidewalks!" She said something about knowing what I was going through and we went on...

By this point I just wanted to get home. I was getting hangry. And then Hunter, without looking, switches sides of the road. No matter how many times I asked him he would come back over and bike with us, well scooter I guess... I had enough. I got off my bike, and told him that if he couldn't listen to the road rules, he was going to have to walk home. And he did just that. Maybe I'm trying to control him more than I should, but I feel like at his age, he should know what is/isn't acceptable. I still biked with him as he walked, and JP knew enough that when he was far enough ahead he had to stop and wait.

We made it home and I put Hunter's scooter in the garage for timeout. Just as Hunter was walking up the drive, he spotted his friend at the end of the cul de sac playing and ran over there to play. By that point I was just thinking, "whatever. I need a break." But then that moment came when I walked over there to tell him it was time to go. I hate being embarrassed, but this kid wouldn't even look at me. Here I am trying to get him to come home as a group of the neighbor dads watched me like a hawk. I ended up having to set Charlotte down, pick up Hunter and bring him to his bike, retrieve Charlotte, return Hunter to his bike, locate his helmet, remind Hunter to go home... I walked out of their driveway like a failure.

Why must I fight with this kid *so much*?! When it comes to Hunter I feel like I'm failing him as a parent. I've been that mom at the park (not screaming though) and I feel terrible about it. We've sat together in his room and cried with each other because we're both so lost. He has a hard time controlling himself and listening to direction, and I have a hard time keeping my shit together all the time, when he's constantly acting out. Helpless is a horrible feeling!