Dear Grocery Store Mom Shamers:
Once a week, our family makes a very exciting trip to...drumroll...Costco. Ok, I may have exaggerated slightly, and taken liberties with the 'exciting' designation. But for Finn, it's a wild time. He sits in that cart like a King directing his servants (Stephan and I meekly comply, loading the cart to the brim with various berries, crackers of his choosing, and often a toy or 2) . And his most important demand of all, the ice cream and hot dogs at the end of the grocery run, is pretty much a given. He lives for ice cream. Last weekend he even served himself a cone from the pantry for breakfast (check out the pic, he's adorable but obviously we need to work on healthy choices lol). Clearly, he's got a pretty good life ;)
During our Cots-go (as Finn calls it) trip today, something happened though. We had picked him up from daycare, and the 4 of us headed out together. Despite being pumped up with the promise of treats AND a trunk picnic (the best!!), Finn was acting out from the moment we rolled into the parking lot. He's 2 - it's standard behaviour, so for us, business as usual. He didn't want to hold my hand in the parking lot, so threw himself down in protest - I had to scrape him off the ground kicking and screaming. Warning #1. He had a fit getting into the cart. Warning #2. He smacked Charlotte on the head because she touched his hat. Warning #3. You know...the usual toddler public outing good times. By the time we reached the bread aisle we were at...oh, I'd say...Warning #86.
My little dictator was screaming at me for something or other, so I leaned down to get eye level with him and said something along the lines of "Finley - you are being VERY rude to mama! Stop that NOW or we won't be having ice cream!". There was no shouting (well, by me at least), and of course no physical punishment or threat (we don't believe in spanking of any kind).
Certainly, my tone was not friendly. It was Warning #86 level. I wasn't angry really...but also, I'm not gonna let you walk all over me. Are my expectations too high sometimes? Maybe. I can admit that. But this was such a non-issue (Finn didn't bat an eye) that what happened next really took me by surprise.
Some old hag (ok, she wasn't actually that old but she was a hag) looks at us all aghast and says "But he's just a child!!". Nope, bitch. You chose the wrong mama at the wrong moment. Without missing a beat I answered "Yes, he is a child and he is MY child. So I will parent him as I see fit. Move along", and I shooed her. Honestly, I surprised myself. I'm freaking awesome sometimes lol.
Despite my pretty fantastic reaction, I actually don't like confrontation. It leaves me shaken. But not today, and not about this. I KNOW I'm a good mom. I'm lucky to be in a good mental health space. I have the confidence, the support network, and the privilege that comes with my ethnicity, higher education and socio-economic status.
But what if I wasn't me? What if, instead, I was a mom who struggled with mental health issues - PPD, anxiety or depression? What if I struggled with self-doubt, had no support, was a single parent struggling to make ends meet? What effect would that interaction have had on me then? What if I struggled with rage issues, and I was proud at how I'd handled this parenting challenge - and now you tore me down.
The point is - you don't know what people are living through. That woman's comment, to a mom barely hanging on, could have been the straw that broke the camel's back. So to that woman I say: How DARE you? How dare you presume to know me, my child, our relationship? How dare you undermine a mom trying to do her best, and teach her child manners, so he doesn't turn out to be a rude jerk like you?
Stop judging. Stop trying to tear moms down. Stop pretending to be better, know better. Do I make mistakes? Every single day. But despite them, I'm a great mom. And to all the moms reading this: so are you - you've got this :)
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