Parents of Wal-Mart

                My eyes have very specific roles in a grocery store. The first is to spot all the expensive or sugary items I know I shouldn’t buy. The second is to scan the aisles for people I know so I can hide until I’m surrounded by strangers again. The third is to watch mothers interacting with their phones while children sit or stand, begging for attention or quietly pondering to themselves.

                Being a perfectionist, I always frowned at these situations: children often spiraled towards aggressive, obnoxious, or loud behaviors while hoping for the attention of Mom or Dad. Couldn’t they do something more persuasive than abrupt? Couldn’t parents pay more attention?

                Of course, these were the musings of a young teenager. I’m not much older now, and I’m not a parent yet. But as my life has gotten busier and parenthood has become an impending reality, I’ve recognized why parents don’t listen to the every whim of their child. There simply is too much to pay attention to; while children are precious and important, they can’t occupy all of your attention without forcing you to put their lifestyle in jeopardy. Sometimes you have to do the work, pay the bills, and negotiate with teachers, coaches, or secretaries about policy.

                But it’s painful on the other side: I remember feeling invisible as a kid, although not because my parents berated me when I called their name too many times in a row. They were incredible parents, but all of my siblings had my perfectionistic tendencies: any time one of them felt that the world wasn’t right or they weren’t good enough, they would flock to Mom’s side for help. They each asserted their own position, and continue to do so.

                With my innate shyness, I lost the capacity to communicate with my wonderful parents.

                My situation isn’t the same as that for most children, but I would have been crushed if my parents ever rejected me for sake of time or concentration. They always put us first; my mother and father were willing to sacrifice anything for family.

                Perhaps that is where my judgmental nature came from; I watched my parents do what other adults might call ridiculous, unnecessary, or impossible and make their spouse and children the best of life. We were as involved as possible in family decisions from a young age, and my parents sacrificed to provide us with piano lessons.

                Not all parents are like that; for some reason I was blessed with parents that I know I didn’t deserve. But my point is that child persistence against lack of parental response is something we can change if we are in families. For those that aren’t in families at the moment, consciously developing the strength to listen can help you. That will bring your future children—as well as your friends and spouse—closer to you, if that’s truly what you want out of your life.

                For current parents: you have it rough. You’re trying to be a good parent. Sometimes you can’t listen to your children. But if you find that you know more about effective strategies for winning Bejeweled than you know about connecting with your children, maybe think about what you want to prioritize in your life. Maybe Bejeweled is more important to you, but I think you’ll find more peace in your life if you listen to your children.

                For everyone: I challenge you just to listen once this week more than you would have. You have lots of projects and responsibilities, but maybe set one aside for 10 minutes when someone approaches you with something to say. I promise that efforts to give just a little time will have great results. Have a great week!