A woman just told my adorable two-year-old daughter to “f–k off”. Seriously. Some crazy lady looked at my tiny lovely little girl and cursed her out. For what you ask? Did my daughter do something horrific like maybe have an affair with her husband or steal her parking spot or something? No. My daughter did nothing. She was just a psycho tourist come to inflict herself upon the innocent passersby at the Museum of Natural History this weekend, and she is just one of the many reasons that I (and many NYC locals) don’t do tourist spots on Sundays. I broke my “no museums on the weekends” rule this past weekend because…well..my kids actually wanted to go and learn something. The Museum of Natural History is a juggernaut of educational value and symbolism. It’s also a place I often threaten my children we will visit “to learn things”. My kids are not generally interested preferring instead to watch the dogs in the dog run nestled under the shadows of the planetarium while munching on garlicky pickles from the nearby farmer’s market. So I was pleasantly surprised this weekend when they asked to go. On any given Sunday the museum, a building the length and breadth of three city blocks is jam-packed full of tourists and bridge and tunnel folks.
This weekend was no exception. I felt tired, claustrophobic and unprepared nearly as soon as we arrived. My kids loved it though and threw themselves into exhibits with a relish I’d not seen in a while. They marveled at the self-sustaining biosphere in the science center and shouted calls of camaraderie to the floating crustaceans. They monopolized the hands-on mirror and telescope show and waved with gusto into the infrared cameras and looked on proudly as the monitors displayed their body heat waves. They tirelessly towed me along as they trekked from room to room closely examining stones, fossils, fish, giant stuffed indian tigers and grotesque oversized insects. They loved it all and though I was exhausted and my feet ached it felt great watching them bubble with enthusiasm, asking thoughtful questions and wondrously hypothesizing about creatures near and far. This was the response I’d always hoped the museum would provoke in them and I was pleased and proud. I was not the only parent on site who felt the weariness but satisfaction of a kid-centered day trip gone well. There were families of all stripes and structures, gently prodding voices chiming “no touching” or “hold my hand” swirled around us. Moms helping kids at the water fountains, dads offering to carry kids on their shoulders. It was mostly a scene of tired bliss.
Except when it wasn’t.
There were some parents who sucked. No, really. They totally sucked. If they were my friends and then they had kids and then they talked that way to their kids in my presence I would unfriend them (in real life)…and then maybe call social services. Really, I’m not a judgy mom. I got handed a pretty rough card in parenting life. I have a very serious chronic illness and two young babes – any way you slice it my life is challenging and complex. So when I see other moms; on the street, in Trader Joe’s, on the bus… when I see those moms sort of loosing it… I pretty much always empathize. Parenting is really hard. Parenting a sugar-high toddler who wants to be naked on a city bus in 20 degrees at 10pm when you’ve been up since 6am is a small slice of hell. So really – I get it and I really do not judge. But this weekend I saw some parents who were not overwhelmed, not tired, not dealing with challenging kids, they were just horrible parents. I saw parent smack his kid on the butt and yell at him for dawdling… that’s right… the four-year-old was walking slightly slower than his 6 foot dad so his dad smacked him and told him to “f–king move faster”. No joke. Jam-packed into an elevator I heard a mom threaten her kid that she was going to “push her out the elevator” if she didn’t stop complaining. (My five-year-old stared at this mom open-mouthed). I saw parents to tell their kids to shut up, to shut the hell up, and to shut the “f–k up”. I saw maliciousness, cruelty and indifference. It was horrifying. I admit I live a pretty sheltered life but is this normal? Why were there so many horrible – truly horrible parents at this museum? While my kids explored and enjoyed I slowly grew more puzzled and freaked out by what I was witnessing. I’m sure the majority of folks at the museum were decent parents who did not treat their kids like regrettable accidents of reproduction and didn’t curse at them for being kids. But who are these parents who talk to so horribly to their kids? Am I really so naïve that I thought most parents were fairly decent? I puzzled away the afternoon and ignored it for the most part until one horrible parent, a young blonde woman (with a Long Island accent) turned her nastiness toward my toddler. We were in the Hall of Human Origins examining the skeletons and waiting our turn in the hands-on science lab and standing around an exhibit. This young woman was leaning up against the exhibit blocking it from view and my two-and-a-half year old was trying to push her out of the way so she could see. I called out to my daughter when I saw her pushing and invited her to come next to me, flashing the woman a polite smile as if to say “I’m sorry my daughter’s pushing you but she’s a toddler and you’re blocking the exhibit”. The woman turns to my daughter – not to me but to my toddler – and says, “like hell I’m going to move for you, you little brat. You need to f–king learn your lesson”. I was speechless. Certain I did not want to engage a woman who was vitriolic enough to curse at a stranger’s child, I grabbed my kids and rushed away, consoling my babe who while missing the meaning certainly picked up on the woman’s startlingly aggressive tone.
I’m mature enough to not let horrible but minor events disrupt my good day my kids are not as unshakeable. They were visibly thrown by this woman’s hostility and by all the angry energy they’d witnessed. We left the museum, trading in the dark crowded exhibits for the bright sunshine of the nearby farmer’s market and the promise of a park bench near the dog run with pickles and apple cider. Our next visit to the museum will be on a weekday. Hope you’ll join!
RESOURCES AND REFERENCES Our favorite room in the entire museum is the Sackler Educational Laboratory. Check out their programs here. We’re obsessed with the pickles from Divine Brine and the Hot Cider from Red Jacket Orchards. Visit the farmer’s market here!
Jenny Is A Mommy 
Jen-I am so sorry about that.
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