Dear Observant Diner,
You may not recall our brief encounter, but your judgment was as clear as day. As you glanced at my family, you remarked to your partner, “We will never allow our children to zone out on screens during family meals.” In that moment, you drew a line between your future, ideal children and my reality. I imagine you continued your day without giving it another thought, while I carried that moment with me.
I understand your perspective; I used to share it before I became a parent. Back in the days when my thoughts were filled with visions of hypothetical children, I too believed I knew what parenting would be like. That was before I had my own children, particularly one who is quite unique. It was before a doctor introduced us to a daunting term that begins with an A.
You see, it’s easy to pass judgment when you’re not in the thick of it. You see a child absorbed in a device, but I see a young boy who struggled for an hour just to put on his clothes this morning. He prefers to be free of fabric; clothing feels constricting to him, even when it’s oversized. To him, a soft T-shirt can be as uncomfortable as a straightjacket. So, while you view a child zoning out, I see one who simply managed to get dressed.
You observed a child ignoring his family, fixated on games. What you didn’t see was the effort he put into cooperating during family photos at the park earlier. He climbed and jumped from a bench made of branches, desperately seeking a moment of release from the discomfort of his tight shirt. Yet, he managed to hold still, smile, and make eye contact, even if it wasn’t easy. So while you perceived a child disregarding his parents, I saw a kid who handled an hour of photo sessions with remarkable grace.
When you noticed him turning away from his food, engrossed in videos, I recognized a boy who had patiently waited for thirty minutes to be seated, only to find his meal was not what he expected. The linked sausage on his plate was unfamiliar and intimidating, and while it may taste similar to what he usually eats, the change was too significant for him to handle at that moment. So while you might have seen a child ignoring his meal, I saw a boy eagerly waiting for his familiar food at home.
And as you observed him detached from social interactions, I recognized a child doing his best to hold it together. The events of that day could easily have led to an overwhelming meltdown, but he persevered. The animated characters on his phone provided enough distraction for him to cope with the tight clothing, the hunger pangs growing louder, and the pressure of the day’s challenges.
So, dear diner, the next time you see a child engrossed in a screen at a family meal, remember that while your future children may be perfect in your imagination, the child at the next table could simply be doing an extraordinary job at managing a difficult situation. Zoning out may be his way of coping, and it’s perfectly alright.
Sincerely,
A Proud Mother
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In summary, parenting often comes with unseen struggles and challenges. What might appear as neglect could be a child’s way of coping with overwhelming situations. Understanding this perspective can foster compassion rather than judgment.