This past weekend, my friend Sarah and her little boy, Max, came to visit us. Max was clearly out of sorts, adjusting to a new environment. He cried, clung to Sarah, and had a tough time settling down for sleep. Our home isn’t babyproofed anymore—especially the stairs, which we’ve happily left behind, sans baby gates.
As the days went by, I noticed Sarah growing more and more upset about Max’s behavior. She repeatedly said, “He’s usually not like this.” My husband and I kept reassuring her that it was absolutely fine. “We get it; we have kids too!” we said. Still, it was evident that she was having a hard time shaking off her worries.
What I wish Sarah could grasp is this: I actually find comfort in seeing other kids act out.
I’m serious! The whining, the crying, the clinging—sometimes even the loud outbursts (well, maybe not the middle-of-the-night screams—that’s a bit much).
Why do I cherish this? Because it reminds me that I’m not alone in feeling embarrassed about my own kids’ behaviors. I often worry when my children are too loud, too rambunctious, or just plain unruly. I feel the need to apologize for their antics and for my perceived lack of control.
Seeing Max throw a fit reassured me that I’m not the only one dealing with epic meltdowns. It’s a reminder that no child is perfect. I need that reminder, especially when I’m busy comparing my kids’ behavior to the seemingly flawless children I see on social media or during playdates.
So, Sarah, when you had to keep hopping up to pull Max away from the stairs, I wasn’t annoyed. I felt relief. Watching your little one express his willfulness was a welcome sight for me, especially since I often wonder if both of my kids might have oppositional defiant disorder.
I wasn’t even bothered by the fact that Max cried for a significant part of the day. My own son had a screaming phase that lasted the entire first year of his life! Before this weekend, I honestly didn’t even know Max had a cry in him.
You were understandably frustrated when Max wouldn’t take his nap like he does at home. I remember how you had to go upstairs repeatedly to remind him it was bedtime. I had to chuckle to myself thinking back to that lunch we had with our infants. Remember how your little guy snoozed peacefully in his carrier while mine was busy turning the high chair into a food explosion? Envy doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings that day.
So, please, don’t apologize when your child has a meltdown. When I see Max throwing himself against your legs, screaming for you to pick him up, it’s a breath of fresh air. It reassures me that my kids aren’t the only ones who can be little monsters.
I’m genuinely not trying to placate you or ease your mom guilt. I’m just grateful to know that your child isn’t the perfect little angel I once thought he was.
Let him cry and let it all out, little dude. It lightens my heart. And next time I find myself in a similar situation, I hope I’ll feel a bit less embarrassed when my kids start their antics because I’ll remember that your kids can be a handful too.
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Summary:
In parenting, it’s essential to recognize that every child has their moments of struggle. Whether it’s a tantrum or a refusal to nap, these experiences are universal. Don’t feel the need to apologize for your child’s behavior; it serves as a reminder that we’re all in this together. Embracing the chaos can help alleviate the pressure and guilt we often feel as parents.