Mom-Shaming

If you've ever been a Mom, you've experienced that incomprehensible combination of joy and absolute terror as the fact that someone is now completely dependent on you sinks in. There's really no greater honour than becoming a parent - whether through birth or adoption. It's a wonderful journey filled with love, bumps in the road and lessons to be learned. 

I was disgusted last night to stumble across tweets, blog posts and articles pointing out things like Kate Middleton's figure post baby (heaven forbid she have a bump LESS THAN 24 HOURS AFTER HAVING A BABY), and attacks on the new family for not securing the baby into the car seat properly.

Really, you guys? You other moms knew how to do everything perfectly? You all left the hospital with flat stomachs, looking better than the Duchess? Gimmeabreak. But this isn't about Kate Middleton. It's about a world-wide community of mothers who fail eachother and themselves. It makes me sad that as a community of moms we're not being that: a community. We're leaving one another to drown, throwing eachother to the wolves.

Where's the support, gals? I'd wager there's not a single mama reading this post right now who hasn't been made to feel inadequate as a parent at one time or another. And if you haven't, maybe it's a sign that you are the problem. 

I'd like to meet the mother who, on her first try, managed to do everything perfect 24 hours after giving birth. And then, after shaking her hand, I'd like to punch her in the throat and call her a liar. Because nobody is perfect. Nobody.

I've been called a bad mom, and I've called myself a bad mom. I'm not. I'm normal. I make mistakes, lose my temper, forget my manners and let F have popsicles for breakfast sometimes. SUE ME. When he was a few months old, I turned my back for a split-second and he fell off the bed. I felt terrible, but guess what? It never happened again. I learned that lesson.

And do you know what? I've done it. I've judged another Mom, as she lost her temper with her kid in the grocery store aisle. When I was pregnant, I swore I'd never do some of the things I saw other parents do. I did. We all did. But after being on the receiving end of it, I'm a little more forgiving and a lot more understanding. 

I understand that all the seasoned parents of the world feel that the Duke and Duchess could stand to learn a thing or two from their awesomeness, but how about getting down off your high horse and trying this whacky new concept: just be happy for them.

I could write about Mom-on-Mom shaming until I'm blue in the face, but I'll leave you with this:

Don't judge that mom. You have no idea what's going on in her day. Instead of judging her for looking tired and thrown together and maybe completely out of her mind a little bit stressed, congratulate her on her beautiful kid(s). Tell her how cute they are. Point out how well mannered or smart and articulate they are. She's doing her best, just as you are. We all have things to learn, mistakes we need to make and obstacles to face. It's a hell of a lot easier when we have a community of supportive people behind us. 
 

Restored

I saw God today.

Yep, that's a bold and dramatic statement, and no, I haven't lost my mind (or what's left of it). I really and truly, honest-to-goodness saw God today. I don't know what He looks like, but what I do know is that the God I believe in manifests in goodness, love and support. He manifests through random acts of kindness and a true sense of community.

Today was an average, ho-hum kind of day. It was also my Mom's birthday and we went out for a delicious brunch. We came home, I did some tidying and reading. I watched a movie with my little guy, My brother's girlfriend had a death in the family, and I had offered to meet her at the bus stop to help her get home. I originally had boots on my feet, but after walking around for a few minutes had decided I'd rather wear my new Toms and break them in. Besides, I was only going to be in the car, right? WRONG.

As we neared the cable-ferry I cross to get to and from the highway, my phone rang. It was my mom, and the sound of panic mixed with relief in her voice was immediately upsetting. "There was just a call on for the Fire Dept. Thank God it's not you. It's a car accident, near the shore. You'd better stop, none of the members have called back in." I got out on the ferry to tell the staff I needed to get across immediately. I had hit the ferry at shift-change, a procedure that takes 10-15 minutes, meaning you sit for that amount of time. They took us across immediately, and let me off ahead of nine other cars. With my caution lights flashing and R in the passenger seat, we were off.

My shoes, post-accident

I pulled up on the scene not knowing what to expect. I had no radio from which to obtain information, but I parked on the side of the road and hopped out. I ran across to see a group of strangers lining the shoulder of the road, an RCMP officer and two of my fellow Fire Department members near a badly demolished truck. That's when I saw the blanket on the ground. I stumbled and slipped down the embankment, wishing I had worn a better pair of shoes as I rolled my ankle and lost my footing. It wasn't until I was up to my ankles in muck - cold, filthy, smelly, gasoline-enhanced muck - that I was really sorry I'd worn these shoes. For a split second, I thought about not going further. For five steps, I tried to avoid the deep, squishy muck. Finally, I gave up. They're fucking shoes, and there's a woman lying on the ground.

As ambulances pulled up, I ran up the embankment to help them with whatever I could. Back down with a backboard, back up for more, back down with more. Up and down and up and down we went, myself and other volunteers - men and women who had been sitting down to their dinners, enjoying time with their families. There were only five people who had to be there, five people who had a duty to the public. Everyone else was there because they wanted to help. How amazing is that?

On my final trip up the embankment, which was slipping away beneath my feet I felt myself go. Shit, I thought as I lost my balance altogether. Before my knees hit the rocks beneath me, two hands grabbed my arms. Strangers. People who had stopped to see if they could help, people who'd stripped their cars of blankets and towels to help the victims of this accident. It was a minor act of kindness to stop me from falling flat on my ass, and yet it moved mountains. Twenty-five, thirty people stood out in the cold mist and darkness for over ninety minutes. Some scanned the ground with small flashlights, some hovering over the victims of the accident, others directing traffic, all working together.

When it was all said and done, not a single person could leave there without saying that was community. That was care and compassion and selflessness. That was God, and this community is blessed. Every time I feel like I'm losing faith in humanity, I can pull the memory of this night - this awful accident - and I can be reminded that there are still people who'd risk it all for their neighbour and that faith in my fellow man will be restored.



The scene from the side of the road, after the removal of the vehicle.

XO


Both accident victims were taken by ambulance, but both were aware and seemed to be doing quite wel, all things consideredl. Less importantly, my shoes were salvageable and are hanging to dry.