To the Mom using the electronic babysitter: I see you battling your guilt about not wanting to play dinosaurs or cooking or cars for the 5 millionth hour today. I see you wanting to jump up and take your kids outside and run around with them in the yard. I also see that you are EXHAUSTED! You have worked all day in one way or the other, either at home or at an office. You have probably handled the logistics for 500 birthday invites, play date invites, doctors' appointments, husband work travels, and dinner, as well as doing the work actually required by your boss. You've just walked in the door from work or from practice or from some class that will enhance your budding genius's education and now it's time to take out the dogs and make dinner and make sure homework has been done and manage the end of the day meltdown. So rather than being able to actually interact with your kid, it's all you can do to stagger into the den and turn on Daniel Tiger or Sophia the First. You're surviving and a few extra hours of TV won't kill your kid.
To the mom watching her kid lay on the floor while throwing a tantrum at Walgreens: I see the pink starting to rise in your cheeks. I see that if you could make that kid stop right now you would (clearly). I also see your anger, not only at your child but at the side show you think your life has become. I see you working so hard to contain that anger so that your child never feels an ounce of it while they try to figure out how to deal with these crazy things we call emotions. You're doing it right. You're helping your child work things out. You're trusting that they will eventually get it and that this phase of gaining intimate knowledge of the floors in public places will eventually pass. And it will. Soon she'll be yelling at you to tell you how much she hates you or rolling his eyes at how dumb you are. At least right now she's small enough to pick up and take to the car. Teenagers are a lot bigger!
To the mom giving in to the tantrum in the check out line: I see you trying to determine your desire to teach your kid that tantrums don't work outweighs your desire to stop the crying. I see you deciding that you just can't handle the crying anymore today. I see you deciding that you've taught all the lessons you can teach for the day. I see you giving up, just a little, just for now. The fight can start again tomorrow but for now you just need the crying to stop. You just need one public interaction to be tantrum free and you're willing to do whatever it takes to have that happen. And I haven't seen too many 18 year olds having a tantrum in the Target checkout. They must grow out of it eventually right?
To the mom feeding your newborn formula: I see you furtively taking that powder out of the bag and hoping that no one sees you. I see you wondering what judgment is getting passed on you by all the other moms at the mall today. I see you worrying about your child's poor immunity, future obesity, and dislike of vegetables. I see you telling yourself that it's okay and almost believing it. But it is OK. We don't know your story. We don't know that you truly could not nurse. We don't know that you decided not to nurse because no one in your family ever did and didn't encourage you to. We don't know that you had to go back to work almost immediately and so chose formula because the logistics were just to hard to figure out. We don't know you or your story. Only you can know that and only you can make the right choice for you and your child. Feed your baby. Love your baby. That's all you need to worry about.
To the mom who feeds your kids fast food regularly: I see you justifying your decision with talk about schedules and work and your inability to cook and your bad financial situation that makes weekly grocery store trips almost impossible. I see your flash of guilt when the guy at McDonald's knows you by name. I see you worrying about your kids' health and future weight problems. I also see you doing the best you can. Those reasons you use to explain to everyone else why you feed your kids the way you do are not just justifications, they are facts. They are even stronger facts if you happen to be in a financial unstable situation. You're doing the best you can. You're doing all you can. You're spending that time laughing with your children, listening to their stories, and learning about their dreams. Keep it up.
To the mom yelling at her kids in the grocery store parking lot: I see your embarrassment at your own behavior. I see you wishing you could control your temper, at least until you are in a less public place. I see your anger bubbling over. And I've been there. We've all been there. Sometimes these little beings that are half of us push our buttons. They do a great job of it too. Sometimes our bad behavior is the only thing that will get them to realize their bad behavior. It's impossible to be that zen mommy all the time. It's not going to happen. It's just important to realize that we make mistakes sometimes and that we can teach our children how to act when they make mistakes. It's important to have those conversations about how to express yourself better. And sometimes, you're just going to yell in the Publix parking lot. That's just going to happen. And the rest of us will smile in solidarity because we've been there.
To the mom I've missed: I know you think no one understands all the ways you've screwed up. But that's just not true. You are part of the motherhood sisterhood. We've all been there. We've all had those fears. Talk to us. We'll be there for you. You're not alone.
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