It's Everywhere...

So.

A few weeks ago, it came to my attention that we--as in, my family-- were surrounded by dysfunction.

This is funny in a way, since quite often, we ARE the dysfunction. But lately, we have been fairly functional, which of course may be why I was suddenly aware of all of the dysfunction around us.

Everywhere I went, there seemed to be examples of people not caring for their kids. And I don't mean people giving their kids chicken nuggets for dinner four nights out of seven, or letting their four year old stay up until nine o'clock on school nights.

I definitely don't mean those people, because sometimes we are those people.

I also don't mean those people because, in general, I am a pretty firm believer that, within reason, people get to raise their kids the way they want to raise them, and that as long as everyone is loved, and fed, and safe, and usually, mostly clothed, it's all good, and its not really any of my (or anyone else's) business how they raise them.

As long as they are, in fact, raising them.

And there is the problem, because some of the dysfunction that seemed to be surrounding us was a direct result of people who were not, in fact, raising their children.

Oh, they were probably kinda sorta raising them, but not really fulfilling the whole fed-safe-usually mostly clothed aspect.

This is, of course, nothing new. We have all probably had some interaction with someone like this at some point. But I wasn't having one interaction. It was everywhere.

The lady at the mall who left her two year --two year old--...alone in the play area while she shopped. I kept seeing her peek into the crowded play area before taking off again, but my mind couldn't really wrap itself around the fact that she was peeking in because her two year old was playing there by himself, while she shopped.  That's what I thought was happening, but then my mind said things like "But people don't do that. Especially well dressed, forty something year old women with Nordstrom bags. They just don't".

Except that they do. This was confirmed for me as the two year old left the play area and started toddling through the center of the mall, toward the exit. I watched him, thinking that surely he was trying to catch up with someone ahead of him--someone who hadn't yet realized he was so far behind.

Only, instead of turning to see if he was coming, the people in front of him just kept walking. And he kept walking. Further and further. Until it was clear that he wasn't with any of those people. So I stopped him, and asked where his mommy was, and he looked at me, as if to say "I have absolutely no idea".

Which was true. He had no idea where his mother was.

Until she came out of a nearby store, looked around, and saw him standing there, in the middle of the mall, talking to a strange woman, and smiled and said "Thanks!" as if this is just something moms at the mall do for one another.

Unfortunately, she is not the only one.

Recently, we have encountered other examples of this kind of parenting.

People who don't seem to be concerned if their kids spend several hours a day, several days a week, at the home of a neighbor they've never met.

A three year old we know whose language skills are seriously lacking--in his case, at least in part because for much of the time, no one talks to him.

Yes, I realize this is all very judgmental of me. And we're not supposed to do that. Judge one another. It's not very nice. Or kind. Or accepting.

I get that. It's true. We're not supposed to judge one another. And yet, how can I not judge you when I--a complete stranger-am standing in the middle of the mall with your two year old, who you left in the play area while you shopped?

In truth, since all of these situations seemed to be happening at around the same time, I started to feel like maybe God was trying to tell me something. Why was I continually finding myself in these situations--stepping in to do the job of other parents--when they themselves weren't doing them?

Why was other people's dysfunction showing up on my doorstep--sometimes quite literally--when I obviously have quite enough of my own dysfunction to deal with, thank you very much?

I started obsessing. I started thinking about what a better place the world would be if we as parents just did our jobs. I started thinking about how kids who haven't been taught the basics...like the importance of being kind to one another, and the need to say please and thank you, and that "fricken" is not an acceptable word for a six year old to use--will grow up to be kids who get drunk at twelve, and smoke pot at thirteen, and  try to get my kids to sneak out of the house to get drunk and smoke pot with them at fourteen.

And that part, quite frankly, makes me really, really mad.

Because I have always figured that my kids would be at least sixteen before I would have to put alarm systems on their bedroom windows, and now I'm going to have to plan for that much, much sooner than I thought.

But also because, really, I just don't want to have to think about things like that yet. And because parenting is hard enough without having to contend with the potential problems that arise when other kids haven't really been parented. And because, while kids are always going to be kids and push the limits, it would all be so much easier if we, as parents, just did our jobs.

All of us.

And so I obsessed some more. And judged some more. And wondered some more why the universe seemed to be surrounding me with all of this crazy--none of which, for a change, was mine.

And then, after thinking about it some more, and obsessing some more, and wondering some more, I happened to talk about it with my older, wiser brother Jim.

He made some good points. He reminded me that I can't change other people's parenting. But I can make sure that that the impact we have on their children is a positive one.

I knew this, of course. But there's something to be said for an older, wiser voice of reason that agrees with and elaborates on the dialogue you've been having with your own younger, not-quite-as-wise voice of reason.

So I thought some more. And then it dawned on me.

Of course God was trying to tell me something.

The truth was, I'd been so focused on the dysfunction all around me, and how it could potentially impact my life and my own parenting, that I hadn't stopped to think that maybe the issue wasn't that all of this was surrounding me.

Maybe the issue was that I had been placed in the middle of it.

I've been focusing on the difficulty of the storm around me.

Instead of focusing on being the beacon of light in the midst of the storm.

And so I'll try.

And I'll probably fail.

And then I'll try again.