The "Judgy" Mom

We've all dealt with the "judgy" mom.  You know her.  She's not overtly judgmental, but just enough so in a passive-aggressive way that makes you feel like America's most inept mother.  I don't claim to know the judgy mom's intention, but she has a way of leading you to believe that her kids are perfectly behaved and way more advanced than yours.

You get, "Oh, is he not speaking in full sentences yet?" at Gymboree and "She's still on training wheels, huh?" at the park.  In my days of errantly aspiring to be a perfect mother, such snarky darts struck right at the heart of my insecurities.

My 11 year old son, Aidan, was born embarrassed.  He has always had an uber self-awareness that makes him very reserved and cautious.   I was a new, self-critical, exhausted mother when Aidan started his 2 year-old half-day preschool class 2 days a week.  He was a young 2 and first-born.  So hitting the social scene at the preschool was both exciting and overwhelming for him. 

So one day I was standing outside of his classroom with the other moms, waiting to receive my 2 year old at the end of the school day.  Through the giant viewing window, we could see that the teachers had turned on some music (of The Wiggles variety, I think) and were dancing with the children before they dismissed them.  Holding my very squirmy 6-month old, I watched the kids excitedly shaking, marching, turning and grooving . . . except Aidan.  He stood completely still, with only his eyes shifting.  He looked at everyone in the room like they were bananas.  I watched him, looking disturbed by these ridiculous people.  I wanted him to join the fun.  But he didn't.

In this moment, I was wondering why he would not participate.  He is 2.  Why won't he just dance a little?  Just then, another mom turned to me and said in a sarcastically sympathetic tone, "I guess you don't dance at home with Aidan?".  My immediate, defensive response:  "Um, I don't know.  I guess he dances in the car to the music on the radio". 

I mean, what kind of garbage is that to say to a woman with dirty hair and her hands full with the hungry, cranky baby?  Come on.  My self-defeating inner monologue went a little something like this:   "Feed him?  Bathe him?  Play with him?  Read to him?  Sing to him?  Kiss and hug him?  Yep, all those things I do every day.  Apparently I need to build dancing into the schedule so that he knows what to do in these situations at school.  Is he behind?  What if he never dances?  What kind of mother am I?  I must be no fun.  I suck."

I cried all the way home from the preschool that day.  So maybe there was a little exhaustion mixed in with the feelings of inadequacy, but this was my first major moment of self doubt as a mother.  This woman probably had no idea how much her comment affected me.  But it did.  It was a judgy thing to say and I let it get to me.

It took me a while to come to terms with the ridiculousness of that entire exchange.  First, kids do things in their own time and in their own ways.  As adults, we can only guide them on their individual paths.  We must not forge the paths or judge their pace.  Second, that small moment taught me that moms are very powerful and influential in each other's lives - for better or for worse.  You can use that influence to demean another mom, or you can lift her up with supportive words or a funny story about your own kid's quirks.  I choose to lift and support! :)

I have had a thousand run-ins with "judgy" moms and self-doubt since then, but I am better at letting the snide slide right off of me.  I trust my instincts and I trust the people that I trust.  Everything else is peanuts.

Judgy mom stories?  Spill it!

We're Not Done With Them Yet!

Come on.  Spill it.  Let’s tell the truth.  All of us are muddling through this endeavor called motherhood.  It is an incredibly daunting undertaking – the task of raising kind, confident, competent, productive citizens of the world.  Yet any among us is free to take a crack at it.

Most take the job seriously, driven by the insane amount of love we have for our children.  I am certain God instilled such enormous love to keep us from killing our young.  We do whatever it takes to heal them, console them, and protect them from an often cruel world.  We want everything for them.  And we often lose our minds and ourselves trying to get it for them.  Consider me guilty on this one.

Moms are funny creatures.  We can go to the school to volunteer in our little sweater sets and cute, sensible flats.  We can attend a party in our tasteful little black dresses, making charming adult conversation.  But if we think one of our kids is in danger, in pain, or mistreated in any way, we can become ruthless, rabid dogs.  We are complex, comical, and often crazy.

Even funnier are these little people that we are charged with molding into honorable humans.  They mess up.  They make bad decisions.  They embarrass us.  But it is because we still have work to do.  As my own mother often reminds me when I am in a tizzy about one of my kids' antics: we're not done with them yet.  And they are not done with us.

In response to their missteps, moms can really further botch the situation by overreacting, ranting, lecturing, and over thinking.  I am a serious repeat offender on this one. We forget what a painstaking process it was for us when we were growing up … because we were so busy growing up.  Like most other worthwhile ventures, parenting is a marathon and not a sprint.  And we still have time.  Thank God, because I’m not done with mine yet.

The purpose of this blog is threefold (Did I just say “threefold"?):

1.        Create a forum for the truth about raising kids.  I am not a perfect mom and my kids can be turkeys.  That’s what you’ll see here.

2.        Hopefully we can laugh a little at ourselves and our families (they give us so much material!).

3.       Share tips and hard-learned lessons from my own teaching and parenting experiences.

We need to laugh about this job.  We need to share our struggles and successes.  We should support each other in this most rewarding, difficult role of our lives.  It is serious work.  But we need to stop.  Breathe.  Laugh.  Enjoy the ride.  We will blink and they will be grown.

Live.  Share.  Laugh!