Frustrated is an Understatement

I wish this was a sexy post. Something sweet about me and Scott. But I'm not talking about that kind of frustration. I'm not even talking about computer frustration (which, on a side note, has all been taken care of at a very minimal cost). So you might be saying to yourself: Crap, she's gonna post a ranty post.

And you'd be right. I am. I am full of rant. 

Rantful. 

How come that isn't a word yet?

Cyra, my 10 year old, had an amazing opportunity this year to learn how to play the violin. I'm not sure if I've mentioned it or not, but for a one time ten dollar materials fee, her school provided her with a student violin and weekly lessons. Seriously awesome. So awesome in fact that she not only wants to continue to play, but wants to "upgrade" to the cello, ASAP!

Last night was her first official concert - although really it wasn't "her" concert, it was the local middle school's spring concert that Cyra and her violin class were invited to perform at. She was excited, nervous, fidgety, and anxious. She did marvelously. 

She is not my rant.

The violin group was scheduled to play first followed by the beginner band and then the advanced band. The middle school bands were great. I didn't know a single kid on that stage and I was crazy proud of them. To get up in front of your family, friends, and peers and perform is one of the hardest things to do as a kid - I know, I was in choir! Kids know how judgmental people can be. They know that being in the band is often considered geeky and uncool. And they do it anyway because they love it.

The band is not my rant. They were amazing and it was clear that the band instructor did a fantastic job with these kids.

My rant? The audience!

Throughout the entire performance the audience: parents, grandparents, and siblings, were amazingly rude and inconsiderate twats!

I will never say that another person's parenting style is wrong, but what the Hell is wrong with parents who let their children run up and down the aisle, talk - loudly - though a performance, scream, and play with electronics - in my row alone there were three kids each with an ereader/tablet/smart phone playing games with the flipping sound on!

The woman in front of me actively encouraged her daughter to talk during the selections, leaning over and talking to her. The mother and grandmother behind me made no effort to keep another little girl in her seat and quiet.

And Friends, I am not talking toddlers or babies. These children were at least five and older. During the intermission, Ashleigh leaned over to me and whispered, "I am so glad you raised me properly."

My girls weren't angels. I will never, ever make that claim. But they knew from a very early age my expectations for behavior when we were out. And if they didn't behave? Guess what. We left so as not to disturb those around us. End of story.It only took once or twice for the lesson to sink in and they realized that behaving meant getting to see a movie in the movie theater, getting to go to a concert or a play, getting to go out to dinner.

But then again, how can you blame the child when the parents were just as bad? Talking, texting, answering their phones, getting up in the middle of a selection and leaving the auditorium, door slamming behind them. 

Remember folks, the kids we were watching at that point we not even mine and I was furious for them. Your child is performing so you'll update your facebook or tweet about it that bloody second?

Unbelievable. 

Maybe this makes me old. Or old-fashioned. Or anti-technology. Or maybe, like every generation before me, I will find something that bothers me about the new generation and complain about it. 

But here's where I draw my line in the sand:

Manners Matter. Being polite matters. Engaging with people face to face matters. Giving your full attention to what is before you matters. Teaching our children manners and demanding that they use their manners, that isn't a parenting lifestyle choice. That's just plain common sense.