Menu: Parenting
The Journey to Understanding Other Mothers
by Rachel Evans
Updated: April 6, 2023
Originally Published: April 6, 2023
It was a late Saturday afternoon when my partner and I decided to stop at a travel center for a quick coffee break after a day out. While he headed inside, I remained in the car, lost in the melodies of a classic Whitney Houston song. Suddenly, a vehicle pulled up next to me, and a young girl, likely around 8 or 9 years old, exited with an adorable poodle. Moments later, a young woman, presumably her mother, stepped out, took the dog’s leash from her daughter, and watched as the girl eagerly dashed inside the travel center.
As I observed, the mother engaged in a lengthy phone conversation while walking the poodle to the other side of the travel center, where she lit a cigarette. Minutes ticked by.
Why isn’t she checking on her daughter? I thought. Has she never heard of the dangers that exist in the world?
Finally, the girl emerged, holding a colorful rainbow slushy. I let out a sigh of relief, but my heart sank again when the mother handed the poodle back to her and went inside. Was this mother truly unaware of the potential dangers? Just that week, I had heard an Amber Alert for a missing child in the area.
When my partner returned with our coffees, I took a sip and lied, “It needs more sugar,” stalling for time. I felt compelled to protect this little girl while her mother was preoccupied inside the store. I had on comfortable shoes; I could sprint if necessary to ensure her safety.
What could possibly make a mother think that her child was safe in a world that often seems so harsh? Didn’t she watch the news? But as I continued to judge her perceived lack of vigilance, I recalled my own experience as a young mother who had once been too trusting. The thought that someone might have judged me without knowing the depth of my love for my children made my stomach churn.
I remembered a time shortly after my partner left the military. We had three children—two young boys and a baby girl—and were adjusting to civilian life. My partner had to take a city exam at a local high school, so I took the kids along. While he was inside, I found myself in a gymnasium with other parents. A friendly woman struck up a conversation with me, providing a pleasant distraction. As we chatted, my youngest son began the familiar dance of urgency, indicating he needed to use the restroom. I placed my sleeping daughter in her carrier and asked the woman to watch her for just a moment.
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” the woman assured me sweetly. I hesitated but decided to trust her, thinking I would only be gone for a few minutes. As I stepped away, I unexpectedly bumped into my partner.
Reflecting on that day, I often think about how differently it could have turned out if he hadn’t appeared when he did. Thankfully, I’ll never know the pain of that “what if.” Yet, sometimes disturbing news reports about children make me want to protect all kids with GPS trackers and bodyguards. I still feel haunted by the potential dangers that could have affected my family.
Back then, I was a smart, loving mother who simply believed in the goodness of people. Perhaps the mother at the travel center envisioned a world of safety for her daughter from the very moment she felt her baby kick within her. Maybe she chose to live as though such a world existed rather than one filled with fear.
Recently, at a restaurant my partner and I love, a mother entered with her special needs child. She received disapproving glares from other mothers for allowing her daughter’s hair to be wild and free. This mother likely needed a break, a moment to enjoy a meal without the burden of preparation. Perhaps she thought, “Comb be damned! Let’s just eat.” I felt a pang of sadness for her; her choice about her daughter’s hair had no impact on the child’s well-being, yet it was unjustly judged.
Why are we so critical of one another? Fathers often receive a parental pass for their actions, while mothers face scrutiny from those who should share a bond of sisterhood. We are all in this parenting journey together—whether seasoned or new—growing and evolving daily.
Instead of criticism, we could offer a smile or a kind word, acknowledging that we’ve walked similar paths. When a mother is distracted by life’s challenges, we should become the guardian angel for her child until she can return to her role. After all, we all experience moments of distraction.
That evening at the travel center, my partner and the young mother exited simultaneously. I watched as mother, daughter, and poodle climbed into their car and drove away. I whispered a quiet apology to her and to any mother I had ever misjudged, before turning up Whitney’s song to full volume.
Summary: This article reflects on the tendency to judge other mothers based on fleeting observations. It highlights the importance of empathy and understanding, drawing from personal experiences to illustrate the common struggles of motherhood. By fostering a supportive community among mothers, we can provide kindness instead of criticism, recognizing that we are all navigating the challenges of parenting together.