I saw this great post on Mommy Brained about a mom who reached out to another mom, mid-meltdown no less, in a kind and gracious way. I always try to make a point of opening doors for other moms struggling with strollers, but could never figure out how to intervene mid-tantrum without making things worse. I think this blogger offers some great ideas.
I was relishing my “me” time in the Borders cafe, sucking down a humongous latte and flipping through web design books, when I heard the blood-curdling scream of a young child. The cafe was full, and EVERYONE in there turned to see where the noise was coming from. A woman stood in the Bargain Books section, a look of terror in her eyes, as her little girl, who looked to be around two years old, threw herself to the floor screaming.
Mortified Mom, trying to pick her child up off the floor: Sweetie, it’s time to go home now.
Girl, struggling against her mother: Noooooooooooooo!
Mortified Mom, trying her best to hide herself behind the shelves: It’s ok. Lie on Mommy for a second. You’re just tired.
Girl, finally relaxing on her mother’s shoulder, but still wailing: I wan’ it! I wan’ it! WAAAAAAAA!
I saw people shake their heads in disapproval, and fought down the desire to call someone, anyone, on my cell phone and start talking in a loud, obnoxious, Valley Girl accent. Instead, I gathered up my stuff and wandered over to where the woman was holding her sniffling child. She sensed me approaching and turned, a defensive, fearful look in her eyes. I gave her and her runny-nosed daughter my biggest smile.
ME: How old is your daughter? She’s beautiful.
Mortified Mom, still looking nervous: Thanks. She’s almost two. She’s… really tired.
ME: Yeah, I know. I have a two-and-a-half-year-old and a nine month old, and I’ve been here when BOTH started melting down at the same time.
Mom, not so mortified anymore: Really? So you know how this feels, huh?
ME: Oh, yeah. Times two. It’s horrifying. I just wear blinders, you know?
Mom, smiling: Yeah. Thank you. That makes me feel so much better.
I left the bookstore feeling like a million bucks. I can’t count the number of times I’d wished someone would have said those words to me instead of giving me a dirty look or smirking. Someone to say, “Don’t sweat it. You’re a good mom. Shit just happens, and it’s not your fault.”
Help another mother out
I saw this great post on Mommy Brained about a mom who reached out to another mom, mid-meltdown no less, in a kind and gracious way. I always try to make a point of opening doors for other moms struggling with strollers, but could never figure out how to intervene mid-tantrum without making things worse. I think this blogger offers some great ideas.
Excerpted from Mommy Brained:
I was relishing my “me” time in the Borders cafe, sucking down a humongous latte and flipping through web design books, when I heard the blood-curdling scream of a young child. The cafe was full, and EVERYONE in there turned to see where the noise was coming from. A woman stood in the Bargain Books section, a look of terror in her eyes, as her little girl, who looked to be around two years old, threw herself to the floor screaming.
Mortified Mom, trying to pick her child up off the floor: Sweetie, it’s time to go home now.
Girl, struggling against her mother: Noooooooooooooo!
Mortified Mom, trying her best to hide herself behind the shelves: It’s ok. Lie on Mommy for a second. You’re just tired.
Girl, finally relaxing on her mother’s shoulder, but still wailing: I wan’ it! I wan’ it! WAAAAAAAA!
I saw people shake their heads in disapproval, and fought down the desire to call someone, anyone, on my cell phone and start talking in a loud, obnoxious, Valley Girl accent. Instead, I gathered up my stuff and wandered over to where the woman was holding her sniffling child. She sensed me approaching and turned, a defensive, fearful look in her eyes. I gave her and her runny-nosed daughter my biggest smile.
ME: How old is your daughter? She’s beautiful.
Mortified Mom, still looking nervous: Thanks. She’s almost two. She’s… really tired.
ME: Yeah, I know. I have a two-and-a-half-year-old and a nine month old, and I’ve been here when BOTH started melting down at the same time.
Mom, not so mortified anymore: Really? So you know how this feels, huh?
ME: Oh, yeah. Times two. It’s horrifying. I just wear blinders, you know?
Mom, smiling: Yeah. Thank you. That makes me feel so much better.
I left the bookstore feeling like a million bucks. I can’t count the number of times I’d wished someone would have said those words to me instead of giving me a dirty look or smirking. Someone to say, “Don’t sweat it. You’re a good mom. Shit just happens, and it’s not your fault.”