Who’s the parent and who’s the child?

I was feeling a bit burnt out on the weekend so was in need of some fluffy TV—the kind that requires very few brain cells.

I flipped over to Slice and watched a slew of “Real Housewives”.

The problem was, I had to keep flipping away to more benign fare like This Old House Hour. It was train wreck TV at its worst.

I didn’t mind so much the drama, tantrums, or how one realtor from Orange County was trying to survive on $250,000/year (as opposed to the $1 million she was making the year before).

It was the scenes with the kids. Kids who were witness to swearing, table flipping (New Jersey), and general bad behavior.

I wanted to shake these women, and ask them to take a hard look at themselves. What kinds of lessons are they teaching (or not teaching) their kids? Don’t they realize how foolish they look?

In one scene, a mom’s 17-year-old son—the one who was having issues living on $250,000/year—chastised her for her spending sprees despite their tight budget. The mom sat there looking helpless, bemoaning the fact that she could no longer just go out for $400 lunches. When did the child become the parent?

Now I know this is TV fodder. It’s supposed to be over the top. It’s supposed to make you say “I’m glad I’m not you.”

However, it seems every other day I see examples of parenting that makes me wonder who’s the child and who’s the parent. And there are no better examples of childish adult behavior than during the morning drop-off at a school.

I help with traffic in the morning at our school, and once in a while I have to wonder who’s more mature: the parent or the child they’re dropping off. Parents yelling out the window that they should be able to drive where they want—even it means backing up through a crosswalk. Parents getting angry when they aren’t allowed to park in the no-parking zone. Parents honking in the parking lot.

All the while, their kids are in the backseat observing their behavior.

We’re all human, and I’m the first one to admit this. The other day, I had my own mini-meltdown when I burned the grilled cheese for the second time in a week. I was yelling at myself, trying not to curse, throwing pans and towels around. My kids were taken aback and steered clear. Later, I apologized to all of them. Who says parents don’t throw tantrums?

In our home, we sometimes run into debates when there seems to bet two sets of rules: one for parents, one for the kids. For example, my husband is prone to leaving his jacket son chairs. So when I ask my kids to take their jackets off the chairs and hang them up, I get “But Dad does it!”

Actions speak louder than words, and they speak volumes. Your children might not always listen to you—but they are watching. And they’re learning  a lot more than you might think.

Kim Dudra is a freelance copywriter based in Vancouver, B.C., and is the owner of re:fresh communications. She’s been known to juggle four kids’ schedules, three computers, two cats, and one cup of coffee, all at once. Kim is a featured writer for girlgetstrong.