Truth talk — that is what you will always get from me.
A while back, I wrote an article in which I was very honest about having LOUD kids.
I hear some of you uttering, “Uhh…aren’t all kids loud?”
Well, yes; I would agree with you that most are, but not all.
And, apparently, well, a giant majority of the general public believe that loud kids, like mine, are the result of me failing as a mother, being entitled, and raising my children in the same respect.
WRONG. Dead wrong.
Even prior to that, I wrote a piece titled Quirky – It’s Better Than Boring which had a similar sentiment and in that article, I shared ten reasons why I choose to allow my children to embrace their kookiness and share it with the world.
While it is entirely possible that many of the comments on my Noisy Kids article were from individuals who chimed in after solely reading the title, it still seems that some did, in fact, read the article and still felt the need to make horribly inaccurate assumptions about myself, my children, or how I parent.
Yet, all is fair in love and blogging, and I fully understand that if I am going to put my opinions and words out there for people to read, I must have the expectation that they will throw back (preferably wrapped in a grace-filled, beautiful bow) their differing and aggressive opinions.
Having an occasional post described as “controversial” and dialogue-inciting is not something I am ashamed of, yet I do find it necessary to attempt to clarify my messages if not received properly on the first go-round, especially when I seemed to have struck a nerve with so many.
Right smack in the middle of the referenced article, I state this:
“Well, let me assure you of this —
There is absolutely nothing disrespectful about love. And love, well, that’s all you’re hearing. You are hearing me love my kids. You are hearing my kids love each other. You are hearing them love their environment. You are hearing me teach them about showing love to strangers. You are hearing noise because children are meant to be heard. All of their noise — their happy noises, their curious noises, their range of noises that express the gamut of emotions they feel daily.”
Unfortunately, all most readers seem to have pulled from the piece is that my kids’ yelling, belly-laughs, and unruly cackling would be delivered directly to them at their fancy dinner table without warning and with the intent to disrespect.
Let me first clear up the notion that I go to fancy restaurants with my children — I’m smarter than that, k?
Secondly, let me make clear to you that the noise I speak of, well, it is HEALTHY noise. Never heard of such? Well, now you have.
The words which I used to describe the commotion I spoke of included cackling, yelling, and belly-laughing — none of which sound unhealthy to me.
To the people that have reacted and commented so negatively to this, can you honestly say that in a moment of joy (or, fine, let’s say a moment of fervor, too) you have never cackled, yelled, or belly-laughed?
I think you’d be lying. I contend that you have probably done such as an adult, and most definitely when you were a child as well. BUT, you know what else? I also bet that those expressions were and are therapeutic for you and healthy, and that you probably learned a lesson after each expression.
So, don’t you think the same is true for children?
Listen, I get that you don’t want a stranger’s kids ruining your dinner, but I don’t want you ruining my children’s chance to learn and grow about the real world while experiencing life out in it.
I promise you that I am raising my children to be respectful, but I am also not blind or deaf to the fact that kids will be kids and they will act age-appropriately according to where they are neurologically in their development of behavior control.
Learning respect and behavior control is an active process for children.
To all who misinterpreted my ‘noisy kids’ article — I ask that you find some empathy and be kind.
You can also rest assured that I am encouraging my children to offer the same to you, both in the restaurant where you are trying to enjoy your quiet meal, and when you unnecessarily judge and berate them and me.
You’re welcome for that.
I’ll finish with this — the quietest classrooms aren’t necessarily the ones where all of the learning is happening; and in fact, I contend quite the opposite — isn’t the world every child’s classroom?
Food for thought (that apparently) you should try to digest at home in case my family and I happen to venture out to the same restaurant as you.