The noisy mommy
You see her regularly – not by choice, merely due to circumstances.
She has three tones of voice: syrupy, sulky, and screechy. No matter which tone she’s using, she’s loud.
And it’s painfully obvious that she’s lost control – that is, if she ever had it. The loud, empty threats, issued over and over and over again, to no avail. She’s stretched taut like the wires of the top octave of piano keys. In spite of yourself, you watch her out of the corner of your eye, wondering each time if this might be the time that the wires snap and she breaks.
You wonder what she’s like at home, out of the public eye.
And as much as it pains you, you see shades of yourself in her. The times that your buttons have been pushed in just the right combination to spark record levels of frustration. You try to reassure yourself that you are different.
Perhaps that’s why you watch her – to reassure yourself that by comparison, you really are a good mother. Most of the time.
But then it shames you to think that you rely upon negative comparisons to bolster your self-esteem as a mother. You’re not a teenager anymore. And you’re above schadenfreude, aren’t you?
Well, aren’t you?
As you depart, with one last glance at her, you think that she may rely on negative comparisons to reassure herself as well. And you realize that motherhood is not measured in absolutes, but on a sliding scale – one that is constantly changing, for all of us.
December 6th, 2006 at 9:56 am
Whoa, I thought you were visiting CT there for a moment….except I never issue empty threats. (Except for when I said I was not going to be reading blogs anymore…) When it comes to the kids, I mean business. With kids and dogs, we adhere to the simple rule of “first command:” say it once, then make them follow through if they don’t on their own.
I’m pretty confident using the word never in connection with taking pleasure in the misfortunes of others. I can’t even watch a program with that as the premise without squirming. Rather, I hope she looks up and catches my last glance … so I can offer her a nod and smile of camaraderie. Maybe knowing that she’s not alone will help her pull the shreds of composure together and go forward in a better frame of mind.
December 6th, 2006 at 9:57 am
As always, a thought-provoking post. It’s scary, because I already look at the noisy moms and think, “I’ll never be like that when I have kids!”
I’m rolling my eyes at myself here.
December 6th, 2006 at 10:10 am
I always sincerely hope other mothers aren’t looking at me…I honestly work to not look at them. Because…it’s a snapshot. In any one moment I can look like the Mother from Hell, and in any other moment the Gold Medal Winner of the Mommy Olympics. But it’s all a false image. I’m a Good Enough Mother, and that’s the real truth since you never really know what has bracketed that moment when I handled something with grace, or without.
A friend had an Ashamed Mommy moment the other day. She confessed it to me, teary. I said, when I have those times, I never know whether it helps or hurts to have people say, “You’re human, it’s okay.” I think when I confess those times I want someone to say, “Oh wow, you screwed up. How did you fix it?”
She admitted she wanted that. And as we talked, she realized that event was an exception, and the horror she and her children felt as she became Noisy Ineffectual Mommy was indicative of that. She let go of the guilt that had swamped her, and developed a plan for next time.
December 6th, 2006 at 10:12 am
this is, as i pointed out yesterday, why i watch “supernanny” and “trading spouses.” they make me feel better.
December 6th, 2006 at 10:46 am
The noisy public mommy. Have you been hanging out at Super Walmart?
December 6th, 2006 at 11:47 am
I usually score myself major points after watching an episode of either Wife Swap or Supernanny. And then I think, hmmmm, how far removed am I really from these women? Probably not so far if cameras watched my every move.
December 6th, 2006 at 12:14 pm
This reminds me of my recent near-miss with committing a mommy drive-by. I ended up feeling a lot worse about my own actions than about hers.
December 6th, 2006 at 12:38 pm
I always try to put myself in her shoes before making any kind of assumptions. You never know…maybe she just found out she had some terrible disease and is on the verge of a breakdown. Maybe she is keeping it together the best she can. Maybe the best way to handle it is to offer a smile and a kind word. Sometimes that can make all the difference in the world. I usually have control of my kids, and they are almost always well behaved good natured children, but at times, they behave like children and when I see people looking at me and judging me, it makes me sad that they will never know that this is not our normal way of behaving. I like to extend the benefit of the doubt when I see another mom clearly out of control. Maybe this is a fluke for her, and she is wishing no one had to see her bad day. That is always what I hope anyway.
December 6th, 2006 at 12:55 pm
I wish it was an isolated incident. I chalked it up to bad days the first half-dozen times. Honestly, it makes me more sad than smug.
And I always make an effort not to stare at people whose kids are throwing a tantrum. God knows I hate it when people stare at me when CJ is losing her shit.
December 6th, 2006 at 1:43 pm
This is a toughie. I try not to be smug when I see those types either but sometimes it is hard not to judge.
I’ve definitely been the object of stares and tried to know what to say and when to improve the situation, but I frequently fail. Some say I am too easy. Some say I am too hard.
And so, I know what it is like to be the object of such criticism, so you’d think I’d know not to be haughy about others’ actions!
December 6th, 2006 at 4:04 pm
Oh, I think I know what situation you are talking about. You have mentioned it to me before.
I should have known that you would never go to Walmart.
December 6th, 2006 at 5:15 pm
Before I had kids I would look at those women in horror. Now that I have one of my own I look at this women with sympathy. We can all go there at any moment.
December 6th, 2006 at 6:22 pm
I’m sure I am her.
December 6th, 2006 at 8:07 pm
For some reason I seem to get louder the more people there are observing the meltdown I’m trying to stop. As if talking louder will make a difference some how. It doesn’t. I know it just makes me look like an ass. A loud talking ass.
December 8th, 2006 at 12:20 pm
I fear my wire is stretching ever more tightly. When in public, I seem to be able to hold it together quite well. It’s at home that I sometimes let it get to tight and it snaps – isolated incidents, but they do happen and I am instantly ashamed and try to remember that *I* am the adult.
December 11th, 2006 at 8:14 am
My buttons have been pushed to the limit lately with our Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide 3.5 y/o son. I mean he can be such a sweet child one minute, the next he can have a 25 minutes of piercing screams and saying things like “I don’t like you, bad mommy!” etc… Yeah, we don’t get paid enough but still the best job in the world, right?! Right?!