Parenting
I want to say I’m sorry for my lingering gaze at you in the grocery store earlier today. I didn’t mean to make you feel uneasy while you were scanning your cereal, diapers, and orange juice at the self-checkout. You were simply striking, with those long legs and that flawless figure, dressed in clothes that seemed perfectly stain-free. I couldn’t help but wish to embody your effortless beauty and grace.
I also apologize for watching you at soccer practice this morning. It wasn’t my intention to judge you for being late or for the way you were wrangling your kids as they scrambled out of the minivan, still in their soccer uniforms. I noticed that your husband and wedding ring were absent, and I was genuinely moved by your strength as you shouldered the responsibilities alone. I just wanted to lend a hand, but I feared it might come off as intrusive, especially with my own perfect partner standing nearby.
Last week, I found myself staring at you in urgent care. I wasn’t genuinely concerned about your child’s runny nose or cough — okay, maybe just a bit. But mostly, I saw the exhaustion etched across your face, the worry that kept you up all night. I wanted to reassure you that it’s alright; you’re doing your best, and that’s more than enough for your little one.
I apologize for staring at you at Babies ‘R’ Us yesterday. I didn’t mean to be one of those people who almost touches a stranger’s pregnant belly or offers up unsolicited advice on diapers or homemade baby food. You were me six years ago, and I could see the joy and apprehension swirling in your expressions. I remembered my own days wandering those aisles, armed with printouts and parenting guides. I wanted to share a tip or two — like how peepee teepees are useless against baby pee, but those tiny mittens are a must to avoid scratches. Most importantly, I wanted to tell you, “You’ve got this. Trust your instincts, love your child, and cherish these moments. They’ll fly by faster than you think.”
I’m sorry for my gaze at the park on Tuesday. I didn’t mean to look like one of those characters from a Lifetime movie. Rest assured, I have three kids of my own and couldn’t possibly handle yours! I just found myself reminiscing about how I used to give all my attention to one little person and how seriously I took my new role as a parent. I wanted to say, “Take it easy; you’re doing a fantastic job.” I even thought about saying, “Enjoy this time; it passes way too quickly,” but I know how annoying that can be when well-meaning moms say it to me!
I didn’t mean to stare at you in the OB/GYN waiting room last month, either. When I saw the tears streaming down your face onto that ultrasound image, I instinctively clutched my own pregnant belly. I wanted to pull you into a hug and let you know I understand your pain. I’ve been there, and I assure you, “This too shall pass.”
In the coffee shop this afternoon, I apologize again for my wandering gaze. I didn’t mean to distract you while you were enjoying coffee with your grown daughter. I was captivated by the wisdom that radiated from your face, the confidence in your demeanor. I hoped your daughter recognized the priceless gift she had sitting across from her, the life lessons you could share if only she listened closely.
Lastly, I’m sorry for staring at you in the living room this morning. I didn’t mean to make you think I caught you doing something sneaky, like cutting the cat’s fur or raiding the Easter candy stash. I was just in awe of the sweet bond you share with your brother and how anyone could have eyes as beautiful as yours. I thought about how proud I am of you, and how excited yet terrified I am to watch you grow. I was simply daydreaming about the remarkable person you are becoming and the dreams I hold for you. I feel incredibly lucky to be your mom.