Hayes and I went into NYC today. We got off of the ferry when we returned to Jersey City and I saw a woman ahead of me struggling with a little girl. She picked the girl up, trying to contain her and carry the girl over her shoulder. I immediately empathized with the mother/nanny because I had been there (many times). She was walking with the girl, also pushing a stroller with infant twins, while the girl cried. When I caught up to them, the little girl was no longer crying, but she was laying on the ground refusing to walk. The woman looked exasperated and defeated. It was written all over her face, her hunched shoulders, her eyes pleading for just a shred of cooperation from the little girl. I looked at her and tried to express my empathy with a small smile. As I was walking away, I stopped, turned back, and asked, "is there anything I could do to help? Could I offer her a snack to maybe get her willing to walk?" To my surprise, she said "Yes, a snack, that would be great. Maybe that will work." So I handed her a Baby Mum Mum and watched the little girl stand up to take the cracker. Just then, one of the twins started to cry so I walked along, not wanting the woman to feel any more pressure with me standing there. (As a side note, I think that mothers tend to feel judged more often while in the presence of other mothers. This is especially true when our children aren't behaving the way we would hope).
While walking home I was thinking about my surprise that she accepted my offer for help. I thought about being in her shoes. If a stranger walked by and offered my child a snack, I would never think to take it (even if it was a sealed Mum Mum like I handed her). There are times when I'm offered help from someone I know and I don't know how to accept it. Last week, I went out for coffee and breakfast with a new friend. She didn't have her little ones with her and I had Hayes. She just had coffee while I also had breakfast. Hayes was squirming and making it really difficult for me to eat. She asked if I wanted her to hold him while I finished and my reflexive response was "no, I'm okay, thanks." After a few introspective moments on that walk home, I tried to dissect my unwillingness to have others help me (although I'm a SAHM now, my previous life as a psychologist still shines through at times!). Has our culture of independence fooled us into thinking that we don't need help? What is the root cause for not accepting it? Being judged for not being able to do it all? I wish I had answers. I reminded myself that it takes a village to raise a child. Given the exponential impacts of additional children on our ability to parent, I just may need a continent.
#helpisnotafourletterword
#feelsgoodtobeback
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2 comments:
You hit the nail on the head with this post! we were having some after-care issues with Jake after kindergarten & were trying to make new arrangements last week; a neighbor offered to take him after school until we could figure something out & my instinct was to immediately say "thanks so much for the offer, but you don't have to do that, we'll be ok" Why? I didn't even have time to process her offer, my answer was immediately no. Fortunately, we got everything sorted out since then, but still. Glad to see your blog is back, by the way!! :)
Emmy, curious to hear your thoughts as to why we have this reflex. I have lots of ideas: want to look in control, don't want to burden others, being a control freak, etc.
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