As per 2016 pattern, it was Lucy's turn to visit the emergency room this month. I'm almost certain that I will be receiving a call from child protective services regarding the frequency of our family's emergency room visits. Emersons birth had us at the hospital in April, my unknown (out of the blue) heart failure symptoms landed my 5 day postpartum butt in the ER in May (I'll spare you the catheter story), Addy went all Steve Irwin and got attacked by an animal in June, and Lucy found a way to split open the back of her head at the playground.
With the last two being accidents, I've experienced a lot of mom-guilt. A lot of "shoulda, coulda, woulda" phrases floating though my head. Along with this guilt, came the nonverbal mom shame from the perfectly dressed helicopter parent at the park that instantly scooped my fallen toddler from the sandbox when she fell the other day and helped her walk towards me before I could run over to her. It was so brief, but so palpable. The "where were you?" look that somehow created a hierarchy of parenting fitness. Because I was holding my newborn in the shade of a tree drinking my coffee that had been poured three hours prior and having adult conversation with a friend instead of lifting my child in and out of the sandbox and catching her at the bottom of the slide a bazillion times, each time pretending it was the coolest thing she had done yet, that I was a terrible mother.
I carried my giant little teddy bear Lu back to the blanket spread out in the shade preparing to cuddle and comfort her for about a minute until my little bruiser returned to play, a little tougher, a little smarter, a little more agile around the sandbox. But I suddenly felt blood and realized the back of her little head was split open and her pretty hair was damp with blood. We quickly decided to take her to the ER and packed up to the shameful stare of this helicopter 30 yards away.
We got to the hospital with a toddler who was over this injury thing and ready to play. Two hours later, they ended up putting a staple in to close the wound and sent us on our way.
But then it all started again; the "I should have been right there" feelings and guilt. Because of a stranger at a park.
I carried my giant little teddy bear Lu back to the blanket spread out in the shade preparing to cuddle and comfort her for about a minute until my little bruiser returned to play, a little tougher, a little smarter, a little more agile around the sandbox. But I suddenly felt blood and realized the back of her little head was split open and her pretty hair was damp with blood. We quickly decided to take her to the ER and packed up to the shameful stare of this helicopter 30 yards away.
We got to the hospital with a toddler who was over this injury thing and ready to play. Two hours later, they ended up putting a staple in to close the wound and sent us on our way.
But then it all started again; the "I should have been right there" feelings and guilt. Because of a stranger at a park.
I think this mom-shaming thing has gotten out of hand. I flip through social media, read news articles, and see countless stories about children getting hurt. The thing that is becoming so common is the comments on all of these stories: "Where was that child's mother?" "That kid's mom should go to jail." "That's negligence!"
Here's the thing: kids are like magnets for getting hurt and they really really suck at listening. Like, seriously, they're worse than husbands at listening. Can we all just take this in for a minute? Kids fall. Kids don't listen.
Are there perfect children with perfect parents out there avoiding injury at all cost and obeying with delight when told not to climb higher than the first ladder rung? Maybe. Kudos to them. But maybe instead of judging the world full of parents and children, we can all offer up a truce. Focus this energy elsewhere...like teaching our kids to be adventurous, kind and understanding. Perhaps we can focus more on giving that mom at the grocery store with three screaming children an air high five and less on making comments as to how loud her children are. Or help that sweet mom whose son just knocked over a display of wheat thins while joyfully entertaining his baby sister in the cart instead of muttering "Ugh! Now all the boxes are dented." Or tell that mom wearing her twin babies at the zoo while wrangling the niece she watches three times a week while her sister in law works that she's AWESOME.
I think there's so much more we can do to build up the women and people raising the next generation of presidents, doctors, artists and visionaries that there just really isn't time for this blame-gaming mom-shaming nonsense that the media is all too happy to exploit.
Let's take today and tomorrow and probably the rest of the days too, to reach out and compliment a mom you see doing good things. No, seriously, think of someone. Text, call, write on their Facebook wall. Like right now.
Let's get our mom game "on fleek" because I think we deserve it. And because the world needs some problem solvers.
Here's the thing: kids are like magnets for getting hurt and they really really suck at listening. Like, seriously, they're worse than husbands at listening. Can we all just take this in for a minute? Kids fall. Kids don't listen.
Are there perfect children with perfect parents out there avoiding injury at all cost and obeying with delight when told not to climb higher than the first ladder rung? Maybe. Kudos to them. But maybe instead of judging the world full of parents and children, we can all offer up a truce. Focus this energy elsewhere...like teaching our kids to be adventurous, kind and understanding. Perhaps we can focus more on giving that mom at the grocery store with three screaming children an air high five and less on making comments as to how loud her children are. Or help that sweet mom whose son just knocked over a display of wheat thins while joyfully entertaining his baby sister in the cart instead of muttering "Ugh! Now all the boxes are dented." Or tell that mom wearing her twin babies at the zoo while wrangling the niece she watches three times a week while her sister in law works that she's AWESOME.
I think there's so much more we can do to build up the women and people raising the next generation of presidents, doctors, artists and visionaries that there just really isn't time for this blame-gaming mom-shaming nonsense that the media is all too happy to exploit.
Let's take today and tomorrow and probably the rest of the days too, to reach out and compliment a mom you see doing good things. No, seriously, think of someone. Text, call, write on their Facebook wall. Like right now.
Let's get our mom game "on fleek" because I think we deserve it. And because the world needs some problem solvers.
Drop the mic.
xo,
Ashelyn
Ashelyn
