From “those parents” to the stranger who thinks kids shouldn’t play in the mud or try impossible things.
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Dear Stranger,
You know that kid that you are worried about at the playground because clearly he is in danger and no one cares. Yeah, he’s mine. But guess what, I do care. I’m well aware that he is covered in mud, has a live worm in his hair and that he looks too small to climb the rock wall by himself. Yep, I brought him here, I watched him roll in that mud over there.
You might think something is wrong but I assure you everything is awesome. This is who he is. This is what MY son looks like at his happiest. If he wants help he knows he can ask for it, but as for right now, he is proving to himself that he CAN do this by HIMSELF. He is learning his limits and, guess what, he has yet to find any. I find him incredibly inspiring.
I love that when he falls he doesn’t make a scene and expect his parents to coddle him for 15 minutes and tell him not to do that again. No, that dirty kid growling like a lion on top of the playground – he’s finding his strength. He is not afraid of failure, he is not afraid to put the work in and get dirty and trust in his own abilities to learn a skill he’s “not big enough” for. I’m so proud of who he is becoming that I couldn’t care less about the dirty looks that you keep shooting that seem to be saying, “You’re a bad parent.”
My son is bad ass. This kid is going to grow into a confident MAN. If it takes some dirty looks on your part to get there, so be it.
I respect that your kids look like they just stepped out of a GAP catalog and seem a little less childish than mine. I respect that you worry about broken bones. I honestly do believe that each child is different and requires a different upbringing — and that YOU are the authority on what is right for YOUR kid.
Why do I not feel the same respect from you? Why do you insist on telling MY kid what he can and cannot do? I don’t walk up to your mini-adults and rub mud on their clothes, so why do you try and take the mud off my kid’s clothes? I love that mud. That’s MY mud. I’m the one who gets to clean that up. Not you.
When my son looks back on his childhood I want him to remember the mud. I want him to remember having worms in his hair and doing the impossible while his parents admired and said things like, “You’re so brave!”
I want you to understand that this child is LOVED beyond belief. He has parents who are teaching him how to be a good man someday. He has a family that adores him. If he looks like a wild dirt-covered mess, it’s because he is. And his family loves him for it and respects him enough to stands back in awe and marvel as he climbs a rock wall that he MOST CERTAINLY is far too small to climb by himself. But he is. And I hope he always will.
Sincerely,