I’m about to say something pretty radical – I don’t hate the mom-shame. I’m here for it. Okay, well, I don’t LOVE it. Let’s be honest – no one likes being called out or made to question their judgement. But sometimes I need it.
I think I’m a good mom – I’ve got good intentions, I read the books, I read the blogs, I listen to my doctor. But at the end of the day, I’m literally winging it. (Most of us are. Not looking at you, though, seasoned mama with four well-adjusted kids. You’ve got this on lockdown. You’re my inspiration.)
I have no idea what I’m doing. I think if we were really honest without ourselves, most of us would agree.
So where does Mom-shaming come into play in my parenting style?
(Now, to be clear, I’m not talking about the nasty comments from the grumpy stranger. They suck. Ignore them. They’re hateful.) I’m talking about the other moms (or dads! They have valid opinions here, too!) who not-so-subtly nudge you a certain direction or even bluntly drop some opinions.
Such as:
- “Oh your little one is so cute! But isn’t it awfully cold out to have a baby out and about? She’s so tiny! It’s cold and flu season.”
We were at Target. I was 10 days postpartum and going absolutely crazy in the house. I had to get out. I strapped on my baby carrier, nestled her in there, and conquered the “Hearth and Hand by Magnolia” aisles. I was immediately angry.
Listen, lady, you don’t know what I’m going through. I HAVE to get out of my house. She’s warm! She’s snug! She’s FINE. But now that I’m a year removed from the emotionally-charged and sleep-deprived situation, yeah, strangerlady was probably right. It was cold. It was flu season. I maybe should have left her home with my husband and gone by myself and wandered alone, Starbucks in hand, and regained my sanity alone for an hour. She was fine, but it was a little risky of me.
- “Oh, wow, she doesn’t seem to like taking her bottle at all. Have you moved her up a nipple-flow size?”
Listen, lady, my baby haaaaates taking a bottle. (Still does. Eating, in general, is a fight.) I know my baby. She just hates her bottle. But hold on. What’s nipple flow size??? I went home and frantically flipped through my baby books and her tubs of baby supplies and see “Size 2 ages, 3-6 months”. Craaaaaaap.
- “What a little sweetie! But where are your shoes, little one? You’ve got to have shoes on those little piggies!”
Shoes? She’s not walking yet. It’s the end of summer. What shoes?? She hadn’t worn shoes at all really because, well, she wasn’t walking yet, and it was summer. But I stopped to think, “Do I have any shoes for her? What if she decides today’s the day to start walking? What type of shoes do I get? Where do I buy them?” That passive aggressive comment was enough to kick-start me into finding a pair of quality shoes. And guess what? She started pulling herself up and doing that adorable wobbly-baby-stomp thing that week.
I think we all tend to get defensive, especially when it comes to our children. Of course, we want the best and our intentions are always the best, so when someone questions or “mom-shames” us, the knee-jerk reaction is to instantly ignore/get defensive, but just maybe sometimes they’ve got a point. And listen – people are never going to stop sharing their opinions. So you can either get mad and get upset, OR you can be the bigger person, sift through the judginess and isolate their good intentions and advice.
It takes a village to raise a child. Parents, grandparents, cousins, friends, neighbors, and, yes, even snarky know-it-all bystanders.
I can’t control other people but I’ve learned one thing: I alone control my reaction. I can either fester and stew and be offended or I can be the bigger person and glean what helpful little pearl is at the base of their commentary.
