We were at the BIG library in Topeka this afternoon and there was a young mother there with three very young children. A baby in arms, a two-year-old (my guess) and a child maybe about four. Could have been me not so long ago. Sometimes I see a mother with so many little ones and I'm filled with this kind of awe... "Oh my! How does she do it?"
It sometimes takes a while for it to sink in that I did that/do that too. Part of me thinks it must just be a whole lot easier now that they are older, but I don't really remember feeling so stressed about it at the time. Sure, I was pretty caught up in being a mom. I guess I have been for about... 11+ years now. But it was just what I did, at the time. I moved a little slower maybe. Had a continual ache in my back from carrying a kiddo (wait -- that's still there). Read more nursery rhymes and picture books than I do now.
Anyway... the point of the story is that this mother -- with her three beautiful children -- turned my head in a major way. Moments later, the two year old breaks into tears, and within seconds it's a full-core toddler meltdown. It was hard not to look. And I really admired her patience. I remembered, as I watched her, what it was like to have your hands so full of kids. Tired kids. What a struggle it was when you had passed your window. Kept them out for one errand too long. And I think a little part of me was afraid for her. Afraid she'd lose it. Afraid she'd yell or do something horrible to the child. But she didn't. She just kept working her way toward the door with incredible patience and understanding.
So I was smiling -- hoping at least to give her encouragement should she look my way (she didn't) when a woman sitting at the computers swung around and started whisper-shouting, "Just smack that kid! Just smack him!"
She turned back and mumbled more unkind words at her computer screen, then stood up and spoke a little louder. "Oh... you are not going to let him get away with that. You are not!"
Finally, she stormed off saying, "I will not sit around and listen to this."
And this was all happening so quickly that I basically just stood there with my mouth open. I mean, really -- smack a two-year-old for being exhausted?
I'm sorry -- but I've been a parent for 11 years now and I've yet to find a situation where smacking (okay, spanking if you want to try to remain PC about it) makes a situation better. And you know what? When I started this whole parenting gig, I wasn't entirely sure where I stood on the matter.
Aside from being fearful of my own short temper (which has dulled tremendously, thank goodness) I didn't really have much to base my anti-spanking stance on in the beginning. Perhaps gut feeling. Rule by power and might?
None-the-less, every bit of experience I've had as a parent tells me it's just not the way to do things. (And yes, I will admit that I tried it a time or two -- wasn't worth it.)
That's my advice from the trenches... though nobody's asking. There it is.
But back to the mother... it took me more than an hour to figure out how I should have reacted. I should have gone to the mother and offered to hold the baby. At least that would have freed her to use both hands to take care of the toddler. Probably would have freaked her out, a total stranger coming up and offering to hold her baby, but maybe I could have truly been helpful.
I did give the whisper-shout lady my best evil eye. Don't know that it did any good... but I gave it my best shot.
No comments:
Post a Comment