On Judgment

I used to be that person. I used to cringe when I heard someone’s kid crying and screaming in my vicinity in a public place. Forget it if they were in my check-out line at the grocery store. Yep, I’d dart my eyes in the direction of the closest adult claiming responsibility for said child, and think, “Goodness, take control!” I mean, how hard could it be? Really.

Now fast-forward through marriage and the arrivals of my own two girls born within 20 months of each other. Now I’m that other person, trying, yes, to “control” my kids, currently one and three years-old. On one lovely fall day, mine was a classic situation: just innocently leaving the library with the kids, one in a stroller, one helping push the stroller. I packed up our books, and encouraged my older daughter to make our way to the check-out line.

And this is when you could say all hell broke loose.

Now, you would’ve thought that I had told her we’d never, ever, in a million years, be returning to that library again. “NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” echoed through the stacks of books. Kicking and screaming, my daughter suddenly took on the mass of a fifty-pound sack of potatoes as I hoisted her up with my non-dominant left arm and steered the two-handled (and now painfully cumbersome) stroller with my right hand. I was a sweaty mess, praying that I’d have a shred of dignity left over among the quiet, law-abiding library community when this was through.

And then it happened. I got The Look. It was by a twenty-something female, who appeared to have her act together far better than I did at the moment. She even stopped abruptly in her quick stride to give me The Look, and oh, I felt it. Interestingly, while I was at my wit’s end, I didn’t cower or turn red in embarrassment as my child continued to shriek, “NO home, NOOOOO hooooome, momm-mmaaaaaay” in my aching left arm. Instead, I stared right back, screaming inside my head at this woman, “Uh, do you have a problem with this? I’m so very sorry, but if I had the power to keep my child from having this thermonuclear meltdown, I surely would. But unfortunately, that’s not the case right now, and I promise in about thirty seconds you’ll never have to see me or my children again! So please, just get back to whatever it was you were doing in your peaceful non-children existence before my daughter’s screams broke the sound barrier! Thanks!”

It was a bit empowering, actually, to look someone in the eyes who was clearly holding me in contempt for my child’s actions. I’m a pleaser at heart, so to actually not feel guilty or bad or any of the wide range of emotions moms can feel when managing their children was a refreshing change. The moment didn’t last long, but long enough that we both made our points, and I was on my way, so very pleased to be out of there.

Surely, I’ve learned my lesson. Until you’ve walked in someone else’s shoes, you really don’t know what they’re dealing with. My kids can be angels one minute, devils the next. (I actually have a girlfriend who is convinced that my girls do not have tantrums.) So, to that mom screaming at the top of her lungs at her unruly kid in the grocery store: no judgmental looks from me, I assure you. If anything, you’ll get a “hang in there” pat on the back, because I don’t know what you’ve dealt with up to that point.

Yes, these can be jarring and unexpected situations we observe from the periphery, but they don’t need to be compounded by our judgments. So before glaring at parents dealing with out-of-control kids – or at anyone doing anything that you personally might not find acceptable in your little microcosm of life – why not keep your judgment in check and show a little sympathy? We could all use a little dose of that in this crazy world now, couldn’t we?