It was just another night out to dinner. My husband was out of town, so I decided to go to a new family restaurant to meet some other friends with their kids. Let’s be honest, trying to get anywhere with a kid(s) by yourself is already a little stressful trying to make sure you have everything, including the kids (just kidding). Then there is driving to the restaurant where the kids were screaming and talking (all the non-stop talking), in every direction. By the time you’re even at the restaurant, you kinda want it to end because you’re exhausted, and yet, still excited to hang with your friends and their kids.
So we get into the restaurant, which is kid-friendly (as in, they have a playground). It is one of those places where you order at the counter. My kids were chasing each other around the ropes, which I thought would totally be okay since it was a kid place and it was not crowded yet. Did I mention I was by myself with them? Anyway, the kids were laughing having a good time, and I was about to order. That’s when it happened: I look behind me to see a woman in her mid-70’s look at my kids with disgust. She pointed at them and asked who these kids belonged to. I let her know they were mine. I could see them and they were just fine. The woman then proceeded to let me know, in front of the whole restaurant, that it was NOT okay and I needed to have a better watch on my kids. I just looked at her, mortified, and got out of line to get my kids.
Luckily, I was able to get back to my spot and try to get the words to not only order our food, but gather my thoughts on how to handle the situation. As I stood there ordering, I got more and more upset. I wasn’t upset about my kids, but just the lack of camaraderie and rudeness of that woman. I also was thinking to myself, was she right? Should I have had my kids in a better hold? Was I showing bad parenting and my imperfections? My stomach was in knots and I was starting to sweat a little, feeling judged by others around me. But as a mom, we have this self-doubt that we aren’t doing a good job, which is even worse when someone points it out. Thankfully I had a friend already there who made me feel better about the situation. Then I got mad.
How DARE she judge me and my children. That was not fair of her, nor was it right. Where was the, “hey I can see you’re alone, let me help you out,” or even, it’s 5’ o’clock in the summer at a kid’s place— they should be allowed to run around. It’s like a catch 22, because if I had given my kids a phone or tablet to look at while I was ordering, I would have been even more scrutinized.
She continued the rest of her meal bickering at her other friends, looking at me and my friends like we were the problem. I know, my kids aren’t perfect, and neither is my parenting, but when will the judgement stop? Why should I feel ashamed that my kids were acting like kids? Or that by trying to have a fun night out with my kids was a burden on others? I know, we moms like to act like we have it all together, stay tough, but you know? Sometimes we just need the help and can’t keep everything in line. I definitely don’t have it all together (which that lady made abundantly clear). I want to make a pledge now, to not judge, but to offer help when I see another mom, dad, human being struggling. We all can’t be perfect like that woman, nor would I want to be. Sorry, not sorry.
I’m glad you wrote this. With someone in their mid-70s, they truly can’t remember what it was like wrangling multiple children (and maybe she rarely went out in public with her own kids); to her, it’s easy to judge a much younger generation and conveniently forget how hard it can be to be a mom who’s just trying to get through the day. Good for you! You’re doing fine.