Something happened to me this morning and it has me thinking A LOT about motherhood and the silent lessons that we teach our kids. In fact it messed me up so much that I just had to clear my afternoon and share.
This week has been a crazy one and it’s only Tuesday. Clearly I wasn’t thinking straight when I agreed to multiple specialist appointments in the same week, a week before Christmas. But in my defense, I booked them months ago, and I usually can’t see past Thursday let alone a few months down the road. Now maybe you’re reading this and it doesn’t sound that bad, but you try packing up the kids (two of which are toddlers) into the car while getting the other kids off to school. Drive for 30 minutes. Unload and get a DOUBLE stroller into a doctor patient room, while trying to keep them entertained because taking them out is definitely not an option. Try staring at the clock and PRAYING you get out of there with enough time to keep them from falling asleep on the way home, because you know if they do, they will never nap this afternoon. And oh yeah, one of them will most definitely take a dump while you are there because one of them always does. Now do it back to back. See, it sucks.
That combined with the fact that the whole time we’re out, the laundry is not getting done, dinner is not being made, and all of a sudden its 3 pm and the rest of the herd shows up, and I feel like I’ve accomplished nothing all day. Am I the only one here? Mix in a few Christmas potlucks, the need to bake cookies (yes that is a real need) and wrap presents, and the fact that my kids are absolutely bouncing off the walls because Christmas is a week away, and I may have left a tray of hardened sugar cookies piled high with candy out from our cookie decorating party on Saturday and that equals crazy. Needless to say I’m feeling motherhood this week. Which leads me to my next point. I fed the kids McDonald’s hash browns in the waiting room of the dermatologist office today. That’s right. I said it.
Now your either gasping in judgement (shame on you) OR you’re thinking to yourself “big deal.” And it’s not. But if you’re a mom than you know that feeding your toddlers a McDonald’s hash brown in public is like feeding them tequila and cigars. The LOOKS I got because I failed to pack a neatly organized Bento box filled with freshly picked fruits and veggies we’re enough to send me over the edge. I felt like standing up on my chair and announcing that “Hey! I’m all for fresh fruits and veggies and I’ve even been known to include a little love note inside. But some days YOU JUST GOTTA SURVIVE!” But then I realized that my 17 year old daughter might be mortified so I decided to keep my mouth shut.
Anyway, that’s not what this post is about. I know, I really went off side their for a minute. You should see me in real life. Anyway. This post is about the woman who sat across from me this morning in a crowded dermatology office. A woman who unknowingly struck a nerve in me and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.
First of all, I have to say that this dermatology “institute” is ridiculous. It’s way to small for the amount of people they try to pack in there and it’s on Main Freakin St. in Markham. Okay I added the freakin but common people. Who’s idea was it to open a medical institute on the tiniest, bougiest street in York Region? The one with NO PARKING and a million little shops. Yes great idea. Also I am fully aware that “bougiest” may not be a word but it should be so here we are.
Anyway here I was crammed in. Feeding my kids hash browns and fantasizing about defending my motherhood at the top of my lungs, when a small nurse comes out and calls a lady’s name. I see a woman get out of her chair and try to squeeze past the ginormous double stroller taking up the whole dang room, when the woman across from me turns to her 6 or 7 year old boy and says WORD FOR WORD “I hope that woman gets told she has skin cancer back there.” Excuse me?! I was literally in shock. I couldn’t even pretend to mind my business. I just stared at her blankly and I watched that little boy look up at his mother and ask “why mom?” And instead of correcting herself and trying to do full damage control, she looked at him and said “because, that’s what happens when you cut people in line, you get what you deserve” My heart literally sank into my chest. This woman had no idea. The silent lesson that she had just taught that innocent little boy was huge. That little tic tac size comment will go deep within his brain and shape the man he will one day become. She obviously didn’t think that far ahead. And I wish this was the only ridiculous thing she said in the 10 minutes I sat across from her but it wasn’t. And the whole thing just made me sad.
I’m not here to judge her. I’m not about that around here. And although I cannot even begin to condone what she said, for all I know she was as over worked and as over tired as I am. To me another mom in the trenches will always be an allied. But it did make me think about my own interactions and the way I act in front of my children. It made me think about the silent lessons that we teach our kids. Not the intentional lessons, like washing their hands, chewing with their mouths closed, or saying sorry for stealing a toy in the playgroup. I’m talking about the way we handle ourselves when we are under pressure. The way we speak to our waiter when our order isn’t right. Or the way we react when people cut the line. It reminded me that those little eyes are watching. Their ears are listening and more often than not our children will grow up and do exactly what we did, regardless of what we say. And that really struck a cord in me.
I get that we all have our days. Things happen and we are emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausted. We can’t always do or say the right things. I have certainly been there and I wish I could say that I’ll never be there again but I’d be lying if I did. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t pause to self reflect. To hold ourselves accountable and to look at motherhood as one of the greatest responsibilities that we will ever have. And that means we have to be on point, even when it’s hard. I wish I could say that I turned to that woman and said something but I didn’t. What I can say is that I am thankful for that moment in a crowded dermatologist office that reminded me how important it is to lead by example. That going forward I am going to be even more aware of the silent lessons I am teaching my children, and that I need to remember that the lessons I instill in them will not always be intentional. I can’t change that woman but I can certainly change myself, which will in turn change my children. And that can have a ripple effect that can one day change the world.
Laila