Why I bought my 2 year old a leash...

So I bought my son a leash… It’s ok you can judge me. In our house we affectionately refer to the leash as “Scruffy the safety backpack”, but yes it is a child leash. I bought it because well… have you have been through an airport, let alone DFW, with a 2 year old while being 6 months pregnant (maybe just 5)? Yeah there are few experiences I can think of that are less pleasant. First off, in the event that you are lucky enough to take your stroller through security, the chances of the 2 year old actually wanting to be in the stroller are well… slim.  

So there’s that, and then there is security itself. Oh airport security, something clearly not designed with parents in mind. So without the backpack you are shoving all your stuff on to the belt, while people look at you and rush you, while trying to get your 2 year old to stay sorta near you. Sometimes they dart through the metal detector without you into the airport while you are struggling to get the stuff through and then you are… screwed. There is no other way to put it. You still have to wait in line, you still have to go through the line, and no one will grab your child. You are saying silent, or not so silent prayers, that something will click in that child’s head to make them stop, sit down, or turn around… it rarely happens. Enter scruffy. Yes scruffy has to be removed to go through security… but you can do that at the last possible minute. You can load all your junk on the belt and then either “forget” to remove scruffy until you go through the metal detector at which point the TSA agent will hold him until you go through or you can put him on the belt after loading everything else. The leash is great, instead of running into the busy airport your toddler just runs oh about 2 feet from you but is attached. There is no fear, no prayers that your child wont get kidnapped, and no panic attacks. It is the way to go. Totally worth all the people judging you.

And Scruffy is good at more than just the airport… We flew to Washington DC for my brother’s wedding, which hopefully I will eventually post about, and of course while we were there we wanted to take Mikey to the National Mall and a couple museums… enter Scruffy. Again with the stroller, he is getting to the point where we need the stroller cause he doesn’t always want to walk and he is much to heavy to carry (at least for me) long distances, but he doesn’t want to be in the stroller. Places with lots of people are not great for this new found freedom. The National Mall is really not a good place. So we took Scruffy, and it made life better, totally worth all the people judging us. Seriously, Scruffy was the best $10 I spent this month. He enjoyed the Mall, I didn’t have a panic attack, and the funny thing is that while wearing the backpack he wants to hold our hand… how that works I don’t know, but I am not questioning it. Oh and Scruffy doubles a pillow when they eventually collapse…

So this experience with Scruffy has taught me a few things. Or opened my eyes further to a few things. First, why do we judge parents so harshly. I will be first to admit that until I tried scruffy I would have probably judged those leash parents… now… not so much. But really. Have you seen those mothers in the grocery store with the screaming toddler and then seen the people without kids that roll their eyes and walk by, or better yet the ones with kids that act as if that never happens to them. The ones without kids I want to go up to and say, something like “trust me, the screaming is louder in the mom’s head than you can ever imagine”, or something more polite like “you think you have the solution, you go shut the kid up”. And to the parents with kids that are snotty I want to say “oh friend, tomorrow could be your day”.  I wonder why we are so rude, I think sometimes it is because we fail to remember that kids are their own people with their own decision making ability. So while the mom would love to get the kid to silently sit in the cart, or better yet sleep through the whole experience her control over that is well… limited at best.

Second thing I learned, not my kid not my problem. Sounds harsh, but really it isn’t my problem. Can I solve it? Not so much. Should I judge? Really not so much. Is tomorrow likely going to be my special day with that fun? Yeah probably. So not my kid not my problem. This works awesome at church too. I am pretty sure my ward has adopted this philosophy pretty much… you know as a whole. After being gone a few weeks on Sunday I was awakened to the noise level in the room…AWESOME if you have kids. No really, no one child individually can be heard (unless they scream Amen after all the prayers like mine does), and since there are so many kids you expect the noise level to be… well sorta like a school cafeteria, or tiny rock concert, Walmart is silent in comparison. I love it. Love it.

Third thing, why do we always assume it is the parent’s fault. I mean clearly it sometimes is, but sometimes… sometimes that little minion (I really do love my child) has control over the situation and all the mom wants to do is walk away, lock herself in the bathroom, and cry. But yet she is forced to calmly (or sorta calmly) deal with the situation publicly. No, I think we should give her a ribbon, or better yet buy her some ice cream or let her take a nap, pat her on the back and say, “way to go sticking it out while Judgy Judgerson walked down this aisle 3 times unnecessarily to gawk at you. Oh and you have full permission to bash into their cart, laugh, and run away”.  

Clearly the answer is for everyone to buy a scruffy…