Have you ever been the recipient of unwanted parenting advice? The words, “oh, mama, what have you done?! That’s not good…at all,” have been burning my ears ever since I heard them…from the cashier in the Amazon return line at Kohl’s.
It was my first time of any sort of solo excursion as a mother of two, since giving birth to my youngest two weeks prior. Coincidentally, it was also my first time wearing something other than sweatpants since she was born.
I figured, if I had to be in public, I better put my best foot forward in the most comfortable way possible, so I opted for yoga pants and a high, messy bun.
To say I was proud of myself was an understatement:
- I mustered up the courage to get dressed and venture out solo
- I also managed to haul the new two-child stroller out of the back of my van
- I successfully unfolded said stroller
- AND, I got the car seat – holding my child – clipped safely inside
Unfortunately, my baby wasn’t as keen to leave the warm car and head out into the wind and snow to make that Amazon return as I was. She started crying before my feet ever touched the pavement.
“It’s just a sweater. ONE sweater,” I kept telling myself. “How long could it possibly take?” I trudged forward, doing my best to console her through the aisles, hushing her infant cries and avoiding eye contact with other shoppers who clearly didn’t have children.
By the time I got to the back of Kohl’s, the line was at least 8 people deep. I looked at my watch. 10:03. They had literally only been open for three minutes. How on earth did all these people beat me to the front of the line?
I held my breath. I knew the 8 people ahead of me wouldn’t appreciate the constant crying of a newborn. I looked from face to face, searching for the understanding eyes of another parent who’s been there before. When I failed to find that, I focused my attention instead on soothing my daughter any way I knew how.
When her screams only grew louder, I pulled out my trump card. Unlike my firstborn, this was a child who loved to be held. In fact, my motherly instincts were telling me, that’s the exact reason she was crying; she wanted to be cradled in the warmth and safety of my arms, and not strapped into some dingy car seat. Against my better judgment, I unwrapped her from her warm cocoon in the carrier, unzipped my own winter jacket, and placed her as close to my own skin as I could get her. She instantly stopped crying, and all peace was restored.
At this point, I found myself next in line. As I approached Kohl’s Amazon counter, I apologized to the clerk for not having enough hands and fumbled slightly as I went to retrieve my cell phone from the depths of my coat pocket on my non-dominant side. As I awkwardly held out my phone to show her the QR code for the return, I again apologized, this time, feeling the need to add an unneeded explanation. “I’m sorry, she just never stops crying unless I hold her.”
The next thing you know, the wrinkles on the Kohl’s clerk’s face deepened as she looked at me with the most sorrowful expression, before saying, “Oh Mama, what have you done?! That’s not good at all.”
I paused, not knowing how to respond. Just enough time elapsed for her look to turn from sorrow to critical, and though I had a million thoughts running through my head, not a single one of them came out of my mouth. Instead, I pulled my baby in closer, questioning my own capabilities as a parent, as I pushed the stroller through Kohl’s
Was I really failing my daughter? Does everyone see this as a huge mistake? Was I the world’s worst mom?
Any illusion of guilt I had was soon replaced by anger. You see, the Amazon return lady at Kohl’s wasn’t the first person to tell me I’ve “created a monster” by rushing to hold my newborn, and that I have to just “let her cry it out,” so I can put her down and get things done.
But I didn’t become a mother, to not mother.
Read that again.
I didn’t want to be a parent so that I could listen to my child cry uncontrollably from the next room as I paid bills, or enjoyed a glass of wine with my husband, or any of the other 900 things on my to-do list.
I fought tooth and nail to become a mother – fertility treatments, miscarriages, endless tests, and heartache, and I am fully committed to this role. 110%.
I’m the covered-in-fingerpaint mom…the crawl-into-the-bathtub-with-you mom…the watch-Bubble-Guppies-for-the-4,658th-time-without-complaint mom. I will gladly put off anything on my to-do list to spend more time with my kiddos.
I will drink my coffee cold every day of my life. I’m a put-my-life-on-hold-until-their-bedtime kind of mom, and yes, when they’re crying, I’m the mom that will hold them, console them, nurture them, kiss their boo-boos, sing all the songs, rock them till I’m seasick, and I won’t apologize for it ever again.
Why?
Because I’m well aware that these moments won’t last. That before long, my girls will have friends of their own, and playdates and boyfriends, and practices and rehearsals, and all of this uninterrupted time will go up in smoke. If you ever want to know how fast time really goes, become a parent, and it will become apparent. I don’t need someone to tell me to savor every second, because I already do. I don’t want to look back in five, ten, twenty years from now with regrets, wishing and praying and hoping that I would have done more, spent more time, been more invested in them when I had the chance. So, I take advantage of all those moments now while I still do have the chance.
So no, Amazon return lady at Kohl’s, I will not apologize for picking up my two-week-old when she’s crying, or for having a newborn who relies on my arms to comfort her. Because when you really stop and think about it, it’s actually a beautiful thing, knowing that nothing is more comforting to my daughter than the arms of her mother. That my smell, my warmth, my touch can stop even the strongest tears in their tracks. That we’ve created an unbreakable bond within two weeks’ time. There’s a beauty in a love so pure, and a connection so true; The incomparable bond between a mother and child.
So you’re right, Kohl’s Amazon return lady, what I’ve done is “not good at all,” it’s absolutely amazing. And if you haven’t had the chance to experience the soul-consuming, indescribable, untamed love of a child, I hope someday you do.
And when you do, I hope you make the same “mistake” I did; to fulfill your life’s purpose by loving your child with all your heart, every single second you’re given the privilege of doing so.
