Yesterday, I found myself feeling very much like "that mom".
You know what I mean. Whether we like it or not, there is a tendency for people to see something and pigeon hole it in order to feel more in control of the world, and perhaps themselves, or for whatever reasons people do that. We know there are infinite complexities to things when they happen to US, but when we observe 5 minutes of someone else's life, something <cough...EGO...cough> allows us to sit in judgement, deciding we KNOW "that person" and how ____ they are and how much better things would be if they just ____.
So, yesterday, I'm pretty sure I was in "that mom" category; that place where all eyes are on you and you can almost hear the thoughts behind those glaring eyes. "That mom" who's actions can be stereotyped rapidly by the judgmental onlookers.
When I woke up, I was "that mom" who got the day started right. I made rice porridge from scratch, we sang our way to the bathroom to brush our teeth together, managed to get them dressed and organized enough to get through our homeschool circle time, our walk and outside chores, snack and even painted pumpkins together. I had a stint as "that mom" who lost her cool and shouted when story time was spiraling into chaos, but we reset things and pressed on. Then I was "that mom" who went with the energy of the moment and tossed the kids into the car for a trip out in an attempt to get shopping done AND make the evening easier on myself.
Then things got interesting. And by interesting, I mean worse and worse.
First we went to the playground, and while my little Bubs napped in the Ergo, Boo tried to play with the one little girl who was there...but she was not interested. Then, I became "that mom" feeling self conscious about her son annoying this first grader and not taking a hint...but I got over that...that's his journey and not harming anyone. Those are the painful lessons of socializing in the world after all. He needs to feel the impact of being rude in his extroverted way and the little girl needs to experience the impact of being rude in her introverted way.
Then, I became the mom of the little boy who was starting to get hyper...and anxious...just when three boys showed up to possibly "save the day" for our social hour, but they immediately started picking on Boo because "girls have long hair. You're a girl".
Oh dear.
Now, I'm the mom of the boy who is chasing after three other boys yelling "WAIT! I'M NOT A GIRL! MY MOM SAYS THAT BOYS CAN HAVE LONG HAIR AND GIRLS CAN HAVE SHORT HAIR!!!" while they run away laughing...and this continues...for like....10 minutes...because once my little Boo gets locked into getting a point across, he WILL be heard.
Then, I was the mom holding an awake two year old and trying to keep the peace between three...shall we say...misinformed little boys and my son. I was also the mom who couldn't help but laugh a the fact that the boys 4,4 and 6 years old, were all calling my son a girl while each sporting a diamond earring in one ear...which is fine...but notable.
I became the mom who was following her son around while he continued to chase these boys, trying to get his attention so he could "let it go..." but he just couldn't. Finally...I was able to summon "redirection genius mom" enough to point out the unoccupied tire swing; the holy grail of the playground.
The three boys (who are not mine) RAN to the tire swing, as Boo showed up along side...and using every teacher-face-muscle I could muster, I smiled and said "hop on! I'll push you!"
So now, I have 4 boys, sitting together on the tire swing...laughing and getting dizzy together.
Of course, the minute they were all seated, Boo take the opportunity to, once again, TRY to express his non-girl status...and I helped move the subject along by asserting that hair is part of your body and people can choose to wear it how they like...and we moved on. So, I was for a moment, "that mom" who preaches to other people's kids...but if I have to put up with my boys getting second hand "lessons" from "those parents". then so can they.
By this point, I was the happy mom, feeling quite proud of the scenario, save for my poor Bubs who was isolated to the baby swing so as not to be crushed by the rowdy boys on the tire swing. But time was ticking, so I brought him over for a last ride with the other kids, who were now the best of friends, and informed Boo that we would have to leave soon.
Oh dear.
Now, I'm "that mom". "That mom" of "that kid" who is running away and bringing in conspirators to stay away from me, lest I spoil all the fun. Holding a 2 year old and chasing a 5 year old...really not gonna happen. I speak to him firmly but calmly...no. I remind him that I warned him that time was up soon....no. I explain to him that I am waiting for him and holding his brother and it is late and we need to go NOW. (This usually works in this sort of stand off)...NO.
Now, I'm "that mom" who is embarrassed...frustrated...and my child is defying me utterly. I completely understand why he didn't want to leave...but it is what it is...and it's time. Then, I am "that mom" who needs help...and the adult who was watching the three boys started to call them down, presumably to assist my retrieving mine. Unexpected from the adult who sat there watching his three boys tease mine, but then again, he's "that uncle" (the boys told me his relation while on the tire swing).
Finally, I manage to grab my son, and I mean grab...by the arm...as he continued to try to run away from me...but he knows that if he is being dangerous I will grab him if necessary and if I am out of patience and things are urgent, I will stop him...and running away from me is not acceptable, because it's dangerous. So now, I'm "that mom" dragging her screaming, crying, angry son to the car. I just had no more energy to do the best thing, which I am more able to do one on one with him...where he calms down and can see clearly and cooperates with me willingly...but now, I'm "that mom" who has had enough...and we have to leave and have dinner...and go grocery shopping.
I continued to be "that mom" who got her little one into the car while a 5 year old screamed at her and said upsetting things and angry words through tears. But I know "that child"...THIS child...and if I get it together, HE will get it together. So, I took a breath...and I listened to him yell at me. I explained that he needed to lower his voice and that what he said to me hurt my feelings and made me think he doesn't care about me. I listened to what he needed to say, as he pleaded to go back and that he wanted to say goodbye and that he just wanted to play with them longer. There we are...we've reached the point. "I know you want to play longer but we are leaving now". I had already told him that next time he wants to go to this playground we cannot, because he ran from me and running away is not acceptable when it's time to go. He was calming down...and he begged to go with me to get the stuff I left behind on the playground...because I was "that mom" who left a pile of stuff on the ground while trying to get two pre-schoolers to the car. I told him that I would love him to help me, but that I was unable to trust him because he broke our rule when it was time to leave. He promised and promised...having mommy powers, I could see he was sincere. I said he could come if he held my hand...something he never wants to do if it's demanded...and he resisted...but we made an arrangement...so he could help me and say goodbye to his new friends. He walked with me calmly, picked up his water bottle while I collected the rest, and waved to his friends and said "GOODBYE!!!" They all waved back...and we went to the car. We hugged. He apologized. I apologized. We went to get dinner. I felt like all of those moms at once...because I am...except...I'm none of them.
"That mom" is a delusion. A fantasy. A concoction of the judgmental eye. Did one of the parents on that playground think any of these things? Perhaps. But I once heard someone say, "what someone else thinks of me is none of my business", and that is one of the best things I've ever heard. I can be considerate of others AND not value outside opinions OVER my own and over what is best for me and my family. The reality is, I am the mother of a very spirited and hyperactive little boy, who struggles with certain social cues and does not always realize his own strength. His natural response to stress is often violent in either language or physically aggressive behavior. As his mother, it is my job to understand these things and guide him toward better coping mechanisms and model the best behavior I can, because you can talk and punish until you are blue in the face...but MY child responds to compassion and when we appeal to his best self instead of his worst, his best self is then "allowed" out of the grip his ego-neurology has on him. But, strangers don't know all this. Heck, even people who know him are generally ignorant of the nature of hyperactivity and what that means in terms of the persons ability to self regulate, or else they just can't wrap their brain around it. You would think that being hyperactive myself, It would come easy for me to process and understand...but the funny thing about ADHD is that those "symptoms" tend to show their head under duress. ..and nothing in my earlier life can hold a candle to parenting by way of stress.
When a person is stressed, they tend to fall into that fight or flight, default mode, and for me that's basically the adult version of the tantrums my kindergartner has. I yell, I say loud nasty things, and my aggressive impulses rear their ugly head. It's a frustrating cycle of symbiosis; Mommy starts out balanced. Child starts to become off balance. Mommy also becomes off balance. Child is more off balance. Do we blame the child or mother? No. We find balance. The only way for me to help my child be more balanced is to BE more balanced myself....that is to say, to practice actively seeking that peace I need to NOT indulge my negative impulses...and that starts with MY inner journey. You see, if I no longer perceive my child as a threat, I will no longer have a fight or flight response to his behavior. Up until this point, I have grappled with the cultural conditioning within me, to think children "don't speak that way to grownups" and that they "need to be put in their place". I don't intellectually agree with these statements, though I also don't think children should be disrespectful or be allowed to be nasty to people...but there is a gray area...a proactive but hard to understand area where most practitioners of gentle discipline live. I can't fully hold onto it all the time myself, but when I am "THERE", I know it...and it's miraculous. Mostly for me, it's like a radio station that comes in and out; sometimes we are rocking a jam loud and clear, and other times...we get frustrating static...intertwined with bits of incoherent Spanish. You get the picture.
The reality is that this is a learning process for everyone involved. I just have to daily remind myself to have faith in myself, faith in my child, and faith in human nature...because that is really the point. If I believe people are inherently good, then I don't need to tell anyone how to BE good, but I can act as a mirror and guide to help them find it again when they get lost...and that is how I see my role as "mother". I decide what I am supposed to be doing. My fear of external judgement is MINE, whether I'm being judged or not...so how wonderful. If it's mine...I can let it go!
Working on that.
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