Mc-Donalds Play Time

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.