Making mom friends is hard enough—without a wing child along to destroy my efforts.
When my younger daughter was in preschool, I met a lovely fellow mom in the sportsplex where our older girls took the same ballet class. We sat on the bleachers talking about meal plans and bedtime routines and toy organizing projects. She was gentle and kind. I liked her.
I wanted her to like me, too.
From the corners of our eyes we monitored our younger ones running through the gym. Her two boys chased my four-year-old daughter from one basketball hoop to another, shrieking and panting in a jagged game of tag. Suddenly my daughter dodged the fun and ran up to me, pouting.
“What’s wrong, sweets?” I turned my face toward her. The boys caught up and stood beside us.
“I want you to play hide and seek with me, Mommy.” She stuck her thumb in her mouth, a clear sign she was tired.
“Well, it’s a big open space so there aren’t many places to hide. Why don’t you play catch with your friends instead?”
“No!” She stomped her foot and scowled. “I don’t WANT to play with them anymore. They’re ANNOYING!”
Whahh?!?!?! By sheer reflex—I let out a horrified gasp. Then I grabbed my precious angel and sped to the opposite side of the bleachers for a little pep talk.
“We do NOT insult our friends, especially right in front of them—and their MOTHER!” I hissed in her ear. “That is not nice!”
“Hmph!” She popped her thumb back in its socket and buried her head in my shoulder.
“Look. I know you skipped a nap today, so you’re tired and cranky. But that is no excuse. Tell your friends you’re sorry.”
We locked eyes until she blinked. I marched her back to the bench where the “annoying” kids sat beside their mom.
“What do you say to your friends?” I nudged my daughter. She clutched her elbows and loosened the thumb from her mouth.
“I’m sorry for hurting your feelings,” she whispered.
“It’s ok!” The boys chimed in unison. Of course. Their mother taught them to be gracious. Apparently that’s more than I can say for myself. I turned to my new mom friend and frowned.
“I am so sorry. We’re working on playing well with others.”
She waved her hand, dismissing my apology. “Oh, pfff, don’t even worry about it. I understand.”
Do you? I wanted to beg. Do you really? Because your kids look like a couple of happy Smurfs compared to my Gargamel. And now I’m afraid you will think of me as THAT mom—the one with rude kids.
I know very well how moms avoid other moms with rude kids.
Like the child who bit my child in Sunday school, for example. His mom should control her son.
Or that boy who can’t sit still in class and disrupts my daughter while she’s taking a spelling test. Hasn’t his mother ever taught him manners?
And of course there’s the kid who sneezed all over the party bowl of popcorn and kept on eating it. Where is her mother? Apparently nobody else wanted any popcorn tonight. Ewww.
Do you see how easy it can be to judge another woman? Until we’re the one in need of grace.
“Do to others as you would have them do to you,” (Luke 6:31).
I was mortified to hear my child hurl insults at innocent friends, yes—but not so much because it made her look obnoxious or even because it hurt somebody else. The ugly truth is I was more concerned about what my daughter’s behavior said about me.
If she is unkind, then I have failed at teaching her kindness.
If she is defiant, then I’m terrible at training her to obey.
If she picks her nose, then I’ve obviously neglected to point out why she shouldn’t.
As if every poor choice my children make is somehow evidence against my good parenting skills.
Oh really now.
Consider God. He is the Perfect Parent, and yet his kids messed up pretty bad in the Garden of Eden.
Did that change who he was? Did their misbehavior somehow render God less good, kind or wise?
Of course not.
But it did unleash his master plan of grace.
So next time that child acts up—your child or anybody else’s—here’s a novel idea. Try following God’s plan. Let’s all extend some grace to the naughty kid and her poor, exhausted mother.
When ballet class ended, I shuffled my girls into our van and headed home. At the first stoplight, my four-year-old piped up from the back seat.
“Mom, what does ‘annoying’ mean?”
Uhhhh. “Sweetheart, you don’t know?”
“No, Momma. What does it mean?”
“It means someone is bothering you. It’s not a nice word.”
“Ohhh.” She thought for a moment. “I’m really sorry I said that to those boys.”
{Sigh . . .} Me, too, darlin’.
So much for those “good mom” efforts like virtues training and Godly discipline. Looks like I need to start with vocabulary lessons.
Blessings,
Becky
* * * * * * *
Are you believing the lie that your child’s behavior defines who you are? This week my friend Ruth Schwenk and her co-author Karen Ehman released a new book called Hoodwinked: Ten Myths Moms Believe & Why We All Need to Knock It Off. This books kicks off with a wonderfully refreshing look at that darn Proverbs 31 perfect woman and takes the reader on a journey all the way through those top lies we believe about motherhood—which steal our joy and our perspective—including:
- Mothering Is Natural, Easy, and Instinctive
- I Am “Just” a Mom
- Everything Depends on Me
- My Child’s Bad Choice Means I’m a Bad Mom
- And so many more.
Ruth and Karen share such encouraging, real-life insight, reading this book is like sipping coffee with a friend. And who doesn’t need more of that, right? Plus in the back of the book you’ll find helpful resources including prayer prompts, minute-long pep talks, and memory verses for the too-busy mom. I’m honored to help spread the word today. You can find Hoodwinked in bookstores and online through your favorite retailer.