Days never unfold the way they are planned. I must learn to let go a little bit and embrace random moments.
Okay – that’s out of my system, let’s get back to reality. The day started out as planned and things were good. It’s the weekends Babe takes over as caregiver and I
hover sit back and relax. We had decided to take Baby to see both sets of grandparents this weekend.
I called my parents to see what their plans for the weekend were and suggested dinner either Saturday or Sunday at a family restaurant. They would let me know. Babe called his parents and his mother said she would call back with a time that worked for them.
A friend stopped by to see Baby, and us too but clearly Baby is the centre of attention these days. Maybe everyday? I asked Babe to call his parents again and find out what the deal was. We were informed that we could go over at 4:00pm. Breathe. In. Out.
Let’s just fast forward as neither of his parents were actually home at 4:00pm and I don’t really feel like writing about them. Again. Thankfully our visiting friend saved us from trekking over with Baby to an empty house. But seriously?!
Anyway, my parents called and informed us that they would be at our door in 15 minutes. What?!? When did they become *those* people?! Annoying.
Fast forward again. My parents, Babe’s parents, us, and Baby went to dinner. Babe and I watched our mothers discuss travel and health, while our fathers discuss cars and politics. We wondered if they even remembered that we were there. Baby slept peacefully.
At the table next to ours there was a couple and their 4 or 5 year old son. This little boy was very curious to see Baby but his parents warned him that the baby was sleeping so he needed to be careful and not wake her up. Very kind!
This little boy kept staring at me so I would smile and he’d turn away quickly, covering his face. I have played this game many times, I usually win. However, this time it was a little different. The little boy informed his father that he was scared of me. I was shocked to overhear this and saddened. Usually the only people scared of me in a restaurant are the wait staff.
The father questioned his son and assured him that I wasn’t to be feared. He said she’s a mom, she’s good and nice. The little boy wasn’t convinced. His mom said the same thing – she’s a mom like me, she’s nice. Which brings up another point, now this little boy believes that all mothers are nice/good (presuming that he has a nice/good mommy) but that we’re all trustworthy too. This poor little boy will grow up with unrealistic expectations. Poor kid.
Is there an assumption that we all make that being a mother makes you automatically nice and good? Do we become nicer people when we become mothers? Are there a different set of standards for mother versus women without children? Can we really trust someone more because they’re a mother? With this line of thinking does this make childless women mean, bad, and untrustworthy? Why does there need to be a differentiation between mothers and women? Have I just created this via this blog post or did this exist before? Are we all of these things because someone says so or because it’s inherently true?
Sure I gave birth to a beautiful baby, but that doesn’t mean I have super powers or that I am better than someone who hasn’t. It makes me tired, for different reasons than a tired childless mother. I am not ‘good’ or ‘nice’ because I have Baby but because I am. I am nice and good, and I am trustworthy. Or at least I like to think I am.
Or…well…I can be nice and good. I have the potential.
Like my elementary school report cards always said…has great potential, if only she would stop talking.