To heck with it

I’ve decided to say “to heck with it.”

It struck me today when I was at swim lessons with Anne Marie and Thomas. Anne Marie is in her own class for the first time this year, and Thomas was with me in the parent-tot class. Anne Marie loves the water, but is terrified of the thought of swimming by herself. She was shaking, but she made it through the class and looked like she was having fun. Afterwards, however, I think all of the nerves finally hit her, and she let go — HARD. We were in the locker room, and I was trying to change a wild 15-month old while my 3-year old stood there screaming. Then, I was helping a screaming 3-year old into her pants while my 15-month old kept running off, forcing me to leave the screamer and chase the runner. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Two mothers in there with their SINGLE babies each Thomas’s age, looked at me like I was the worst parent out there. I'm sure it didn't look pretty.

Then another mother, with kids about 5 and 7, came over and said to me, “It might not seem like this will get better, but give it a year or two. I remember things being that way.”

She made everything OK with that one comment. She understood. And really, why should I care if the other ones don’t? To heck with them.

I think mothers are altogether too hard on each other. I remember, when I only had Anne Marie, seeing those child leashes and thinking they were a bit of a cop-out. Why would you leash your kid when you can just chase them down or watch them more closely? She never went far.

Now I understand. Thomas HATES being held or in a stroller when he is in a big crowd or someplace exciting. He squirms, he wriggles, he works at the stroller straps until he can squeeze out of them and stand up, waving his arms. But as soon as I let him walk — does he hold my hand like his calm big sister did? No. He’s gone, and fast.

One of the things that stops me from the leash are the disapproving stares from people who think it’s horrifying. I was reading a forum one day when a woman reported that she had seen the horror of twins on leashes.

“This just made me feel so sick to my stomach. I couldn't see myself doing that to my future children.”

I probably wouldn’t ever actually buy a leash because I think this problem is temporary, and Thomas will soon be past this stage, but the sight of a child in a harness doesn’t make me nearly as sick and as the sight of a child ripped away by a crowd. I think the key word in this woman’s comment is “future.” I hope she has the wildest, fastest children ever. Or maybe triplets. To heck with her.

I got “the look” when Thomas was a very colicky baby and I absolutely had to go out and find some clothes for my new job. Unless we had to, we really didn’t leave the house normally. It was too hard, knowing he could go at any minute.

He was fine for 15 minutes, then erupted into a high-pitched angry scream. I checked out and left, with the woman giving me the evil eye. Thomas sort of calmed down on the way out, and her face softened a bit. Then, I realized I had forgotten something and had to go back into the store. I told the angry-looking clerk that he was colicky, and she said, “Oh, I thought you had dropped him in the dressing room.” To heck with her.

I imagine it happens to everyone at some point. Some people give mothers looks for breastfeeding in public, and others give mothers looks for mixing formula when they should be breastfeeding. To heck with all of them.

There are the people who told me that when my child was old enough to ask to nurse, he’s too old. What would they say if they knew he brings me the nursing pillow at night so he can have a nightcap? We don’t nurse during the day, when we both are too busy to think about such things, but I don’t have a problem letting him have that comforting part of his bedtime routine a bit longer. He’s only 15 months old. He won’t be nursing when he’s 3. To heck with them.

There was the woman who chewed me out last summer for carrying my baby in a Moby wrap. She said his feet were blue because the wrap was cutting off his circulation. His feet were blue because his new socks had dyed them. To heck with her.

What bothers me most is that the most disapproving looks tend to come from mothers. I've probably done it myself without even knowing it. I don't think these people are bad — just well-meaning people who think they know what's best.

We should all be a little kinder to each other. Who knows what situation another mother is in, and when it might happen to us. The vast majority of mothers want what's best for our children, and most of us know our children and their needs and wants better than anyone. I can't control what others do or say, so I've decided I just need a thicker skin. I think a good mother is one who does the best she can for her child, not worrying about what others might think. What I do might not always be the "right way" or the "best way," but it's our way.