Feb
12
Dear Lucy,
Today, you are 2 years, 9 months and 27 days old. It’s not your birthday and you haven’t reached some developmental milestone, but it is a day I want to document as it has marked my heart and I know the way I feel about people and parenting won’t be the same after it.
Today, I took you to the second installment of the SymphonyLand series we began last month. You were so excited to go. So was I. That last time was such fun. You are so musical. I think it’s because you’re a kid that, as my friend Susanne puts it, “is a slave to her emotions.” When you feel something, you are full up, filled to the brim with it. And music is such an emotional and moving experience – at least when it’s done right – and it is right where you live. You’ve gotten really good at identifying instruments, not just by sight, but also sound. You have a great ear and can discern the brass from the woodwinds and woodwinds from the strings in an ensemble piece. So, the series was right up your alley and, even better, it was an opportunity for us to do something we chose just for you. We do plenty of things as a family and I know it’s easy to feel like a tag-a-long in your big sister’s life. I was grateful for the chance to give you your day. Today.
Unfortunately, our fun was short-lived.
You were enjoying the experience – talking to the other children, exploring the room, dancing, pointing and, at times, getting in the way. I watched from the sidelines with Phoebe, intervening only when I felt your fun was impeding someone else’s enjoyment of the performance. The second song in, you wandered to the other side of the room and did a dance move that ended with you flat on your back. You didn’t immediately get up. I think you were relishing the attention the other children were giving you, so I began to make my way toward you when a woman from the audience got out of her seat, bent down, pulled you up by the arms and brought you to me. She told me I needed to keep you corralled or leave.
We left.
Our exit was swift. We lingered in the lobby only to get Phoebe back in the car seat and our coats on while the kind and worried people working at the event tried their very best to remedy the situation. I so appreciated their concern for us and especially the dignity they allowed us as we made our way out, confused, humiliated and heartbroken. I would have expressed that then, but I was trying so hard to hold it together. I could feel the tears coming and I didn’t want to shed them there. I scooped you and your sister up, raced to the car, and drove out of the parking lot and a few blocks away where I pulled over and sobbed.
You didn’t know what to do. You weren’t aware of all that had happened. You’d been having fun. Even when that woman put her hands on you, you didn’t feel the gravity of what was being done. “I don’t want to go, yet,” you’d said when I told you we had to leave. But you followed my lead and left with a little, “Bye guys!” and a wave. Thank God for your innocence. Nothing was ruined for you. But in the car, you understood that something was wrong and you told me, oh so quietly, “It okay, Mommy. No cry. No cry.”
We came home and you began to work on Valentine’s for the Pink Party we’re going to later today. You’re on to the next thing. But I feel shattered. As a parent, Lucy, the worst thing that can happen (next to something happening to your children) is to feel as if you’ve done wrong by your child. I worry that I’ve done wrong by you. I wonder if I shouldn’t have left. I wonder if I should have stood strong, stood up for you and told that woman that you were just fine, told her she had no right to put her hands on you. My desire to protect you should have been stronger than my fear of looking like a bad mom to someone else. I’ve made plenty of parenting mistakes. If allowing you the freedom to explore today was a mistake, I’m okay with that one. I’ll chalk it up to experience. But I’m not okay with letting you down.
Lucy, you are a ball of fire, burning bright and beautiful. And sometimes, you wipe out everything in your path. But mostly, you are a light. Let that light shine, little girl. I promise to do better the next time someone tries to put it out.
Love,
Mommy
Comments
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This is not your fault. You were on your way to intervene when that mean woman lost it. She should have spoken to you, not to Lucy. She is the one that was wrong.
Oh Darlin’, you were in shock, and rather than confront and make a difficult situation worse, you put your little girl out of potential harm’s way as quickly as you could. Deep breath now, no real damage done. Lucy will hopefully not remember your tears or that she had to leave early. She was having fun and had a very good experience, even if you did not.
Now you have to take a moment to decide if there really was anything you could have done different. I think not. Look at the choices: 1) Following the stranger’s advice and intervening with Lucy’s fun? 2) Ignoring the stranger and letting Lucy do her thing, risking a further “hands on” intervention? or 3) Acting like a Momma Bear and letting the stranger know in no uncertain terms she should keep paws off and mind her own business? Likely the course I would have taken but would have resulted in tension and possible harsh words and generally spoiling the atmosphere.
No Darlin’, you did well in controlling yourself and giving yourself a chance to think thru what you want to do next. Were you doing anything really wrong in letting Lucy run free? You can check with the event folks and find out their opinion if you are in any doubt. Let that be your guide in how you act next time. And have your response prepared in case you encounter the stranger again at the NEXT event.
And no matter what, you should make sure there is another event. Lucy clearly is in her element and by the way, in case you hadn’t noticed, you are too Mom!!
@ Fourier Analyst – Well said! I heartily agree on every point.
I agree with @ Fourier Analyst too. (((hugs))) Leslie. Shitty situation.
Hey Leslie,
Don’t feel bad. I had an experience similar to this, where my grade 1 child was having their Christmas performance. I had forgotten about the time and had to bring the baby with me. She was on such a strict feeding routine that I was not able to stick to in that moment and she did cry, into my chest as I tried to quiet her. I had a mom rudely ask me to leave because she couldn’t hear. The teacher was shocked that I was treated this way and I got a private performance the next day (with the baby present:-) I remember crying all the way home and it sucked. It is still in my mind and always will be. I have learned from it and know how I will handle it better next time, because I am sure there will be a next time.
It is hard as parents, to choose between wanting to stand up for your child/yourself and not wanting to make a scene. It sucks, but don’t beat yourself up over it. You did well to walk away and not make a scene. It is a great lesson to teach the kids about how to keep your cool in those situations and to not blow up.
You are a great mom and it is evident by your writing and how you speak about your kids. Keep up the great work:-) Hugs!
Good for you for holding it together. I would have snapped and made a fool of all 3 of us. Lucy will only remember having a great time and in the further future she will only remember you being with her for that great time.
Oh Leslie, I want to sob for you. You are a great mom, and how dare that woman tell you different let alone put her hands on YOUR child. I’m so sorry that your outing was tainted, but Lucy won’t remember it that way. Keep your head up and keep doing what you’re doing cause I think you are better at it than you give yourself credit. Big hugs sent your way : )
I agree with Fourier Analyst. You are an amazing mom with amazing girls. Don’t let this repressed woman get you done.
I read your blog all the time Leslie & though I may not comment often but I couldn’t read this & not throw in my 2 cents.
We all have those Mommy moments that we wish we had handled differently.
You are a great Mom & that shines through every word typed into this blog.
When the third installment of the Symphonyland series starts, I say you jack up Lucy on as much candy & soda as she can handle & set her free. Then when miss snooty ass comes over & complains, plug your ears & start singing loudly ” I CAN’T HEAR YOU, I CAN’T HEAR YOU” lolol
ok….don’t really do that….but you have to admit it is a fun idea=)
((((BIG HUGS)))) from one Momma to the other. 3
You’re empowering this woman too much. She is just a woman..just like you and me. You are equals. The difference is she is an angry, repressed, bitter woman who was probably annoyed at attending the show and used Lucy’s behavior as an excuse to vent her frustrations. SHE was out of line not Lucy! Someone should have lifted HER out of her seat and placed her on the sidewalk outside.
Don’t ever be ashamed of yourself or your family. You have no idea how lucky and blessed people think you are. Don’t empower other people by assuming they think the worst of you. You’re an amazing mom – flaunt that in other people’s faces – show it off!
And next time, when an angry jealous woman tries to stifle Lucy’s fun, sweetly pull her from her arms and dance with her around the room.
What a pain! I hate moments like this because no matter what you do or don’t do, next time you want to let your kiddo run around, that mean lady will enter into your mind. Don’t let her get to you next time you let your little girl loose. Try to remember- it’s her problem, not yours.
Try to recall ALL the times other people gazed in on your kids realizing that they truly are miracles and let that cancel out the one *ninny* that tried to play on the bad side.
OMG – I love the way you described your daughter. My middle daughter is also a fireball which often leaves me feeling burnt-out (bad pun there). Reading your description brought a tear to my eye. As a mom maybe I need appreciate how she ‘lets her light shine’ just a little bit more!
I would have handled the situation the exact same way – including the second-guessing and the crying. So you didn’t want a big confrontation – I think that handled it right. If it were me I would probably console myself by saying that woman was probably a terribly mean mom and her kids don’t like her one bit (ugh, I am so petty). Thanks for sharing, really enjoy reading your blog!
I’m sorry, Leslie. I hope you are both feeling better.