Let me clarify right from the start: I’m not an overly strict parent. My kids enjoy watching TV, and yes, I sometimes let them indulge in snacks that might as well glow in the dark. I’m not competitive by nature, nor do I concern myself with how others choose to raise their children. My primary focus is instilling good manners, ensuring my kids leave the house clean, nourished, and—most importantly—happy. Generally, that’s my parenting benchmark.
In the early days of motherhood, I would have never spoken up in public. Fast forward to today, and I occasionally find myself ready to engage in a spat with strangers. When I had just my son, I was constantly apologizing for him. If he cried in public, I spun around frantically, making eye contact with everyone around, offering explanations and assurances about his delightful nature. Looking back, I cringe at how much I worried about others’ opinions instead of focusing on comforting my baby. Babies cry; it’s what they do.
Then came my first daughter, which introduced a new level of chaos. Managing two small children in public can be challenging, especially when they both start competing for attention by throwing tantrums. Their antics have made me less concerned about what other people think. “Oh dear! Are they tired?” someone might ask. I’d respond, “Nope, just being naughty.” Or when someone offers unsolicited advice, I’ve learned to brush it off with a simple, “No, thanks.”
With the arrival of my second daughter, things escalated even further. This little ball of energy has a talent for tantrums that tests my patience in ways I never imagined. Strangers have become increasingly vocal about how I should handle my child’s outbursts, often with an air of superiority. The supportive folks, the ones who acknowledge they’ve been there, are always appreciated. But then there are those eye-rollers—like the lady I encountered during a recent six-hour train ride with my three kids (ages 6, 3, and 2).
As we squeezed into our seats, my youngest decided it was the perfect moment to unleash a full-blown tantrum. She flailed, screamed, and even managed to hit me with the board book she was clutching. I tried to soothe her while simultaneously avoiding confrontation—a strategy that usually helps. Suddenly, a woman, probably around 50 with a furrowed brow, elbowed her way through the throngs of passengers, leaned in close to my daughter, and loudly shushed her while wagging a finger in her direction. Only then did she turn to me and bark, “That’s enough!”
Before I could react, my older daughter, with her characteristic lack of subtlety, piped up, “Don’t shout at my sister!” and pointed at me, declaring, “That’s her job.” And she was right. Until my children are in school or reach an age where they can behave appropriately in public (let’s say 20?), nobody besides my husband and I has the right to discipline them. I might look like I’m struggling to manage the situation, but sometimes I genuinely don’t care if they’re causing a ruckus.
The woman exited as quickly as she arrived, leaving me with a still-screaming toddler and two bewildered siblings. I had a moment to decide whether to let my frustration out or let it slide. Just as I was about to choose the latter, a kind lady across the aisle tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Sorry, not trying to interfere, but would you like my seat? I’m getting off in 20 minutes, and it seems like you could use it more than me.” I nearly cried. I was grateful I hadn’t unleashed my thoughts about the Shusher, realizing that my calm response had made me the wronged yet resilient heroine in this chaotic moment.
So next time you feel the urge to apologize for your child’s behavior or to react to someone’s rude interference, take a deep breath. Remember, the good people far outnumber the rude ones—at least by 10 to 1.
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In summary, parenting is a wild ride filled with unsolicited advice and unexpected moments of kindness. Embrace the chaos, and remember that you’re not alone on this journey.
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