It was a late Saturday afternoon when my partner and I decided to stop at a travel center for coffee after a fun day out. While I remained in the car, humming along to an old Whitney Houston tune, my partner went inside. A car pulled up next to me, and a girl who seemed around 8 or 9 hopped out with an adorable poodle. Moments later, a young woman, presumably her mother, exited the vehicle. She took the leash from her daughter, who skipped happily into the travel center.
As I watched, the mother engaged in a deep conversation on her cell phone, leading the poodle to the far side of the travel center, where she lit a cigarette. Minutes passed. Why wasn’t she checking on her daughter? I thought to myself. Wasn’t she aware of the dangers that lurk in the world?
Finally, the little girl emerged, clutching a rainbow slushy. I breathed a sigh of relief until I saw the mother hand her the poodle and head back inside. Was this mother oblivious? Just that week, I’d heard an Amber Alert for a missing child in the area.
My partner returned with our coffee, and I took a sip. “Sweetheart, it needs more sugar,” I said, buying time. This little girl needed someone to watch over her while her mother was distracted. I turned down the music and kept my hand near the door latch; I was ready to spring into action if necessary.
What could possibly make this mother believe her child was safe in a world filled with threats? Didn’t she watch the news? However, as I continued to judge her parenting, I remembered moments from my past when I, too, had been a trusting young mother. The thought of someone judging me for my choices when they couldn’t see my love for my children filled me with dread.
It reminded me of a time when my husband had just transitioned out of the Armed Services. We had three kids—two young boys and a baby girl—and were trying to adjust to civilian life. While my husband took an exam at a high school, I waited with our children in the gymnasium. A friendly woman started chatting with me, providing a welcome distraction. Then, my youngest son began doing the “I need to go to the bathroom” dance. I placed my sleeping daughter in her carrier and prepared to step away.
“I’ll watch her,” the woman said, her voice sweet and reassuring. I hesitated but figured I’d only be gone for a few minutes. I walked out with my sons and bumped into my husband right outside.
Every time I see my adult daughter, now a mother herself, I reflect on how differently that day could have turned out if my husband hadn’t arrived just in time. Thankfully, I’ll never know that kind of pain. But every time I hear disturbing news, I feel the urge to put GPS trackers on every child I see. I was a loving, intelligent mother who simply hoped for the best in people.
Recently, at my favorite restaurant with my partner, I noticed a mother with a special needs child. She received a few disapproving glances from other mothers because she allowed her daughter’s hair to be wild and free. Perhaps this mother had long needed a day out to unwind and enjoy a meal. Maybe she believed that her daughter’s joyful hair was a reflection of her spirit, and that’s just how it would stay. It pained me to see her choice criticized, especially since it had nothing to do with her child’s well-being.
Why are we so hard on one another? Fathers often get a parental pass, yet mothers scrutinize each other more harshly. We’re all navigating the complexities of motherhood together, whether seasoned or new, and we should be supporting one another.
Instead of casting judgment, let’s offer a smile or a kind word to other mothers. When they seem preoccupied with life’s challenges, we can be the guardian angel for their children until they can return to reality. We all find ourselves distracted at times.
That night at the travel center, as the young mother and my partner exited simultaneously, I watched them drive away. I whispered an apology to her and any other mother I had judged without understanding. Then I turned the music up, letting Whitney’s voice fill the car.
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In summary, let’s strive to support one another in this journey of motherhood rather than resorting to judgment. We all have our struggles and deserve understanding and kindness.
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