Photo by Tanaphong Toochinda
You read that correctly. This is a story about how a situation helped me be that mom I never wanted to be. Let me explain.
In my mid to late twenties, I wasn't sure I was going to have kids. I adopted that twenty-something emo mindset that the world was crazy, so it would be a travesty to bring more kids into it. Fast forward 10 years and I am "that mom".
You know the one I'm talking about. The one who was blinded by love and thought her sons were the cutest little creatures just days out of the womb (you still couldn't convince me otherwise). The mom that didn't notice that her son's hair too closely resembled Trump's combover, so she refused to give him a haircut. The mom that has 32,885 photos and videos she can't seem to rid herself of because she can't decide which of the 47 pictures she took in a single moment is cuter. This is me.
But, though I've been ok being the obsessive mom, I recently found myself arguing with the voice in my head saying, "OK, yes you're crazy about your kids, but you definitely can't be 'that mom'." It was on my son's first day of preschool.
I did all the research. I read endless debates surrounding play based vs. Montessori. I visited several campuses and had countless conversations with preschool Directors. So when I decided to sign my son up just down the road, I was pretty confident I'd made the right decision for him.
His first drop off was going well. My son, Soren, immediately walked over to the trains to play. There were several boys nearby who were playing with a train track they had built. Now, I expected there would be a few scuffles as Soren learned more about social dynamics, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.
When Soren was happily kneeling and playing with the trains by himself, he didn't notice that his boots were shuffling the train tracks behind him. The other boys asked him to stop a couple times, but Soren unfortunately did it again. As I was just about to leave, I saw that one of the boys was scolding Soren repeatedly. As I looked over at my son's face, it shattered my heart. He looked confused and hurt. He was embarrassed and didn't understand why the other boy was so mad at him.
I went to go sit with all of them and explained to the older boy that Soren couldn't talk as much as he did and he needed help learning how to play. I asked if he'd be willing to help him. I know. I was asking a lot. The boy who was scolding Soren explained to me several times what he did and said if he did it again, he'd be giving him "this finger".
Yep. You know the one.
I felt my heart and throat constrict. In a single moment, I was fighting back my own tears. I wasn't prepared for a situation like this so early on. I wanted to run and tell the teacher. Ask if this was normal behavior. Rip my son out of the program. Shelter him from any other confrontations. But instead, I just sat there wrestling with the voice in my head and the fear in my heart.
I read about the helicopter moms and did not want to be one. I read how it could stump developmental growth over time and impede resilience. I believed that contentious situations could help my son build grit, which would help him succeed later in life. Obviously, like any mom, I just wanted to do what was best for my son. I wanted him to know that he had a protector if he needed me.
I stayed an hour longer until I was confident the situation wasn't going to continue to be a problem. Ultimately, I did decide to have a discussion with the Director to better understand if this was a pattern of behavior and to understand what their process was for resolving these types of conflicts. It was a good discussion, but I still bawled multiple times that first week.
I no longer felt certain if I had made the right decision. My imagination was getting the best of me when I wasn't there to see what was happening. The pictures I was receiving from the school weren't completely reassuring as my son's face looked very distraught. Recognizing that there would likely be a transition period at any school, my husband and I committed that we'd give it one month before considering a new program. I'm so glad we did.
Yes, those first few weeks were tough. Did I mention he threw up several times after his first day? I don't think the program is perfect. But, almost immediately, I saw my son become much more curious and more imaginative. He was tenaciously trying to learn more words and phrases. He was exercising more independence and displaying more confidence. He was washing his hands! 🙌
I've also grown as a mom. Seeing how much my son now loves school, I learned to trust that he is strong and resilient and can sort through difficult situations. I needed to learn to let my son not need me. And, I needed to learn that sharing a difficult situation and asking to better understand is not the dark side of helicopter parenting.
No matter what the world around us says, we are their mothers and we still owe it to our kids to discern when situations require more of our attention. We can't let the fear of other people's opinions deter us from being their fiercest protectors when they need it. So throw out the guilt and when necessary give yourself permission to freely be "that mom".
