In my short time as a mother I've grown
to love the Mc-Donalds play area. There, E can run and play with
other kids, I get to enjoy a sweet tea and some time where she is
distracted with other things, and she doesn't need my full attention.
Honestly it's a win-win for everyone. Because I felt cooped up after
a long morning of toast being spread across my dining table, and a
toddler who did NOT want to get dressed or have her hair done,
period, I was looking to get out of the house. The “daily
grind” can be rough when it's never the same, and your whole day
depends on whether or not a two year old gets up on the right side of
the bed or not—so, we went. The whole family. I even made my
husband pack up his computer and come with us so we could spend more
time there. I didn't have to cook, E could play, my husband could
work. The situation was perfect. Determined to turn my day around, I
ordered our lunch, E took off to play, dad set up his “office,”
and we sat. There were more people than usual and it was harder to
keep track of my 2 year old amidst a sea of older school aged kids
who just wanted to play with her, asking: “Oh, she's so tiny! Can
she play??”
After about 20 minutes of
playing/eating a mom came in with her two kids, a boy about 6, and a
girl about 4. The two leapt in and joined the others playing just
like any other kids would. The mom looked like any other mom, trying
to get her kids to eat while they were distracted with playing.
(Really I don't know why I find Mc-Donalds play area “relaxing”
but I do.) Everything was going great, the two new kids were a little
loud, but nothing terrible. Seeing her brother start a game of tag
with a couple other boys, his sister wanted to play. She got tagged.
Then things got interesting. The little girl shrieked with rage and
started to cry. Calmly the mother approached the play space, and
called her daughter down towards her. I was honestly impressed at her
demeanor, collected, soft, poised, determined to not give her
daughter the over-reaction she was looking for. This happened a few
times. Other moms in the area were doing a number of different
things. Some were looking shocked that her kids would be acting this
way, some were trying to avoid eye contact with this desperate mother
and her kids (because we've all been there), and others, still, were
doing a mix of both—telling their children not to play with hers.
This mother was getting more and more distressed with every passing
fit. Eventually, she grew tired of having to end fights between her
kids and had to put her screaming daughter in a high chair so she
would sit still enough to strap shoes on her, then she wrangled her
son from inside the play area so they could leave. Because all the
other moms were looking on (or avoiding doing so) and the other kids
were getting awkwardly quiet and still, watching, not understanding
what was going on, she must have felt like an exhibit in the zoo.
Desperately trying to collect herself, her kids, her drinks, and head
out the door, she looked broken.
There are times when you know another
human is just struggling to go on, and everyone in the room saw it.
The spectacle of pure exhaustion, desperate longing, and
embarrassment that beheld the reluctant
audience was undeniable. Everyone wanted to say or do something, yet
no-one knew what to do. Every mother has been in the situation—it's
not uncommon. Whether you are the bystander, or the embarrassed
parent, we've all been there. I decided to change it. I honestly
don't have much experience on the embarrassed parent side, and E is a
pretty easy kid. It was, however, obvious this momma needed some
encouragement and a huge glass of wine. What I said was very simple:
“It's rough, and sometimes embarrassing, but you're a good mom, and
you're doing a good job.” Bursting into tears, this woman who was
so strong just 2 seconds before those words left my lips, crumpled in
front of me. Telling me about how both of her children had recently
been diagnosed with Autism, and she was barely holding it together.
Her husband or father (not sure which) had passed away a few days
ago, and she was already late for an appointment with her kids.
Another more experienced mom came up when she realized what was going
on and gave her a huge hug—reassuring her that she wasn't the only
one and that everyone has bad days. The new mom later thanked me for
approaching because she didn't know how to help. That is why I feel
this story needs to be shared.
We tend to sit in the back ground
because we are afraid that we will say the wrong thing—that the
parent doesn't want sympathy, or that they will rush out without
giving you a second glance. These fears hold us back from supporting
each other when it's needed most. I want to encourage you to add this
phrase to your vocabulary, and when you see a mom struggling in the
grocery store, Mc-Donalds, daycare drop off, or wherever you are,
say: “You're a good mom. You're doing a good job.” You don't know
what that person is going through, and they might not tell you why
they are having such a rough day. When was the last time someone told
you honestly that you are a good mom? This simple phrase can be a
life changer for someone going through a hard time. It could be a
life changer for you. Likely you won't use this all the time or even
every day, but next time you are the bystander, I urge you to
overcome your fear of rejection and approach the other mom to
reassure her that she's doing a good job. That you know how hard
being a mom is, and you see her trying the best for her children.
Isn't that all any of us are doing, anyway? Trying to be our best
selves for the kids we are trying so hard to raise right?
Overthinking every single reaction to an incident thinking we could
have done something better? Losing it some days because none of us
are perfect, and dreading being seen by another parent when it
happens?
What if we all bonded together as a
community to encourage each other instead of putting each other down
unintentionally? What kind of difference would it make if we all
changed the way we interacted just that much? I wager a big one. I
also believe that you agree. Because you too, yes, you. You, are a
good mom.
