Photo by rick, Flickr
By Amy L. Hatch
My dryer broke this weekend, just as I’m trying to get ready for a three-day business trip to Tennessee.
For most people this wouldn’t be a tragedy of epic proportions, but I have a feeling most people do laundry on a regular basis. Me? Not so much. So it was Sunday at the laundromat for me, or else my entire family would be going commando this week while I’m away.
I gathered up a metric ton a few loads of dirty clothes and made my way to Neil Street. As I folded wee t-shirts and matched socks, I watched a couple trying to manage their toddler and their wash at the same time. The little girl pushed carts around and checked out the other customers, but by lunchtime it was clear she’d had enough.
Her mom held her as she screeched, fed up with being confined and bored. I watched sympathetically as the woman whispered in her child’s ear.
Two younger women stood next to me at the folding counter and made faces at each other while the baby cried and kicked in her mom’s arms.
“She should shut that kid up,” one of the women said. Her companion rolled her eyes.
“Seriously,” the other woman replied.
They both stared at the parent and child, as if expecting the mother to put her hand over her child’s mouth or remove her from the laundromat. I looked at them both, my own mouth agape.
“I’m sure she’s doing the best I can,” I said, under my breath.
I’ve been that mom, the one who’s kid is having a meltdown. I’ve been trapped on a plane with a child who is hungry and tired. I’ve had to peel a screaming kid off the library floor because I said it was time to go home.
And every time, I felt the eyes of every person in the room on me, whether they were watching me or not.
I went back to folding my laundry while the baby screamed. I wanted to help that mom, but I didn’t. I stayed inside my comfort zone and fumed silently when the women next to me shot dirty looks in her direction.
As I walked out of the laundromat, I paused by the couple and their child. I looked at the mom and gave her a half-smile. I hesitated for a split-second, and then walked to my car.
I’m still thinking about her today, and about what I overheard.
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As a parent, I always feel for others when their kids aren’t being little angels. I try to offer a smile, hoping that they’ll know that they aren’t the only ones who have had to deal with those situations.
Maybe she’ll see your post:) The more we talk about these issues and support each other, the better off ALL moms will be.
I have to admit, at different times in my life, I have been both the younger woman rolling her eyes AND the weary mom. At least we can hope that someday the younger women will themselves be dealing with a screechy toddler. That’ll learn ‘em (it did me!)
My comment would have been less civil and louder.
Even a small smile can mean a lot to a co-mom.
I enjoyed reading this post.
Next time maybe give her a full smile that says, “I’ve been in your shoes.” As the recipient of these acts of kindness (as well as the dirty looks) I can tell you it can mean a lot. We’re all in this together.
Thank you for this post. I think all parents have felt like everybody is watching them when their child has a meltdown. And, it is nice to know that I’m not the only one who offers encouraging smiles to other parents of young children.
Thought-provoking post. I’ve been the Mom with the screaming kid…but it was so many years ago that I’ll also admit I’m probably (secretly, silently) less forgiving of it. I think you can usually tell when parents are running out for diapers with an exhausted child, and have no choice but to deal with a tantrum. I also think you can tell when a parent really just doesn’t care about a child’s welfare or daily structure, and sniffing 40 more bottle of shower gel at Bath & Body works is more important than taking worn-out baby home for a cozy little nap.
(I’ve been that mom too.)