Mumshaming is a relatively new word, but a phenomenon that has long settled in our life. Mom always has something to reproach. And very often other mothers do it. More often than anyone else. Our heroine decided to share her experience – how she was among those who are ashamed, and suddenly turned into the one who is ashamed.
When my child was born, I instantly turned into a self-confident “ideal” mom. I had the perfect boy, and I knew exactly how I want to raise him. He will never fight, swear, he will be polite, and I will always handle his mood swings accurately and confidently. I couldn’t believe how badly some parents allow their children to behave in public. And what about the mothers who yell at their children? How can they do that. After all, it is clear that a child needs to be spoken to as an equal. I was going to raise a kind, sympathetic and intelligent child.
I criticized moms who do not get up at night for a crying baby. I condemned everyone: moms who feed with formula, moms who had a planned caesarean, moms who spanked children, moms who fed their children with unhealthy food.
I had the answer to everything. Or so I thought. And then suddenly reality hit me.
My ideal boy has become an incredibly difficult preschooler.
I don’t understand how it happened. Now I have become “that” mom.
The one with the uncontrolled child.
One that looks like it hasn’t used makeup for years.
The one who does not bring the child to other children, fearing what her son might throw out.
The one whose child fights, spits, swears and throws sand.
The one whose child alone crosses the road, because he decided to run away while she puts his older / younger brother in the car.
The one that sometimes screams.
The one that falls into despair.
The one who feeds the baby a bag of chips because she needs five minutes of silence.
The one who left her four-month-old baby crying on her bed because she didn’t know what else to do.
The one who sticks on the phone while walking in the park, because she needs interaction with adults and correspondence with her sister is the only thing that keeps her sane.
The one who locks herself in the room and cries because she cannot cope with her four-year-old imp.
Yeah. It’s me.
I did everything (or almost everything) that I judged other moms for. Now I am on the other side of the barricades and I see everything in a completely different way.
I’m sorry that I once judged moms for the choices they made. Being a mother is not easy. It is very tiring and often lonely. Motherhood is worse than high school. Worse than a girls’ church school (trust me, I know what I’m talking about!)
We never know why mom makes the choice she does. I have only one wish: so that mothers can abandon their prejudices and subjective ideas about what an ideal mother is, and lend a helping hand to others.
None of us are perfect. We all try our best. And this mom with a three-year-old hysterics needs an encouraging pat on the shoulder, not a judgmental look.
This mom, sitting on the phone, ignoring the child in the playground, may be in dire need of company, because she has been at home alone with her child all week.
This mom, who posts something to Facebook every hour, may need support – and she has no other way to ask for it.
Let’s realize that none of us is perfect. And we will stop judging each other.