Mom Shame: No One Ever Told Me How Hard This Would Be
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*republished from The Hygge Project in January 2017*
As soon as I closed the door to the dentist’s office behind me, I immediately felt tears creeping to the surface. Take a deep breath, Jen. *breathe*
Leaving the dentist’s office with a two-year-old, any toddler mom probably has about 1,323 different reasons she could feel like crying.
“His teeth look good; you’re doing a good job.”
Everything in me wanted to burst out laughing; flashing back to the nightly wrestle matches we have for me to just stick a toothbrush in his mouth and call it brushed.
Instead, I went with the insecure route…”it’s been such a struggle every day…”
I watched him patiently hold his mouth open as the dentist counted and checked his teeth. Dr. King was fantastic. Showing him each and every tool in the office, and letting him push all the buttons. Ah, the way to a two-year-old’s heart…buttons.
Then he was over it.
From there on it was a fight to keep him contained. Tubes and wires everywhere and expensive equipment is not the place I want to put my free spirited little man down.
“You can get down…unless mommy doesn’t want you to.” So kind, checking in to make sure not to step on toes…but a flood that I had been wrestling him the last few minutes to stay still reentered my mind. I felt embarrassed.
Then it was the “conversation” between the doctor and me. He was talking to me so calm and so quietly. In the other hand, literally; my son was pulling me in the opposite direction, yelling. Opening the door to run away. Screaming for me to go.
Did I imagine the faces of disapproval from the staff? Maybe. But maybe not.
What the hell I am supposed to do?
Do I hold my exasperated son and “listen” to the doctor talking to me, or do I run after him around the building? My guess is there is something in the middle…but I tried to listen, and instead felt like a bad mom…
The person trying to hold down a wild bird is never the fan favorite. But the person who sets a wild bird free in a confined space is not exactly the fan favorite either.
If you hover, you’re a helicopter mom. If you let him go, you’re…negligent? All these labels these days.
No one told me how hard it would be, that is true. But no one said to me either how sweet it would be in the same breath.
The second we left the office, my plans of taking him to the park quickly changed, as this is what I saw when I was turning out of the parking lot…
…and in these moments I have compassion, and remember this:
The times that are hard for me are hard for him too. This world is a brand new place for him. He is learning how to fit in it. When everything is new and exciting, how can anyone possibly expect one to sit still? When there are naps that are needed, sometimes yelling and running in circles is all that makes sense. When there are feelings, there are not always words.
While I give him grace, I must also give myself grace, for this is all new to me too. As I sit here, my chest is still heavy with residual embarrassment. But as I look at my sweet boy, fast asleep, I am beyond grateful that he chose for me to be his teacher, and maybe even more so, he wished to be mine.
I love you sweet boy,
mama
