The 6 Strangers I Could Not Parent Without
Stranger danger. So real, yet to me, so irrelevant.
After using as much good judgement as I can bestow, on a daily basis, I completely embrace and fully appreciate any stranger who is willing to assist me with my children. In fact, there are moments, days even, where I could not parent without them.
The grocery store employees who assist me to my car
This practice began during end of first pregnancy, and these magical people have stayed with me through some very difficult grocery store- based phases of my life. This offer is accepted by me, and is very much appreciated even now, during what may be for them, the most annoying phase, two toddlers in the double steering wheel cart. Someone who’s never had this pleasurable experience might wonder how much could possibly unfold between check out and cart return. Between managing the diaper bag, the one child who inevitably found their way OUT of the cart, fumbling to find my car keys all while explaining to my two-year-old that the electronic lottery machine is actually not a big phone, the journey can be exhausting. These employees make this trek with a smile on their faces, help me unload my groceries without verbal judgement regarding the state of the trunk of my car, and even take my cart back in so I don’t have to abandon my screaming children. It is a thankless task, and it is everything to me.
The child-watch employees at the gym
I leave my kids at this sanctuary while I work out for an hour a couple of times a week. To me, these people are “Miss”, and to them I am “Mom”. I don’t know their backgrounds. Maybe they are former child care professionals, with prior experience teaching and entertaining children, or maybe they have never seen a blow out in their lives. It actually doesn’t matter. They are to me, strangers. This is a little scary, but hey, parenting is a little scary. I am also scary when I haven’t had a break from the kids in four days, as are they when they haven’t had to take direction from another adult or behave in a socially acceptable manner among other tiny humans. They get to play in a setting that is not the living room. I get to leg press.
The stranger who confuses my child into good behavior
It doesn’t take a mom of four to see perceive an impending toddler meltdown or injury. Most people, including me in my pre-parental state of arrogance and ignorance, do their best to avoid these situations at all cost. It takes a truly virtuous person to confront my child, head on, and confuse them into forgetting all of their toddler troubles. There was a time when my two-year old, at some store at some point, was jumping up and down in the cart. I was tending to the baby while also trying to pay attention to the pharmacist, and half-assed was telling him to please stop. We both knew he knew my hands were tied. A man walked up, assessed the situation, looked my toddler in the eye and said “you tap dancing there son? Not the best place for it, better to be safe and sit on down.” #thankful.
The pediatrician’s office
They are a wonderful and special breed of human being to even agree to be employed there. I would rather pull my toe nails off than come in contact with the number of sick and highly distressed children they do in a day. When I found myself in a situation where my screaming baby had to be cut out of his car seat because the buckle jammed in their parking lot, they came to my rescue by removing the entire thing from the car in one impressive motion, distracted my toddler during the whole debacle, were nice enough to give me a loaner, and installed it back in my car like a boss so that I could drive straight to Nordstrom and give them hell. They were team me that day. I will never say another bad thing about the ped’s office, even if there is a 84% chance that at our next well check we leave with croup.
The employees at kid scheduled activities
There are days where just getting to our scheduled activity on time, kids fed pants on, is truly the battle. These chipper and patient individuals complete the task of singing, dancing, and leading my children for an hour as if they weren’t underpaid and as though they actually enjoy making hand puppets dance as they belt the shit out of Old McDonald.
The mom at the park who’s got me covered
Anyone who frequents the park with small kids is familiar with the “zone coverage” which occurs there. They may be small, but little ones can be quick, which means, if one ends up in your zone, or the area you are currently scanning, in time of need, you jump in. When we go to the park, we are physically unable to stay on the age appropriate play set. I mean, why rule follow? Because I am outnumbered, and because I have two eyes and not six, there are inevitably, brief moments when my back is turned. It is said moment that my toddler decides to dangle silently backwards from a 10-foot rock wall. Mom in his zone sees he needs help, and politely but assertively directs a man underneath him to help him down. Injury avoided, meltdown avoided, major mom-guilt avoided. That’s teamwork.
Strangers who give unsolicited verbal support
I’m not talking about the person who hurriedly strides past in the parking lot as I’m hushing a crying baby while answering 20 toddler questions and says, “it gets easier.” Although, during my dark periods, I may have found this comforting. I’m not talking about unsolicited advice, which moms need like a headache, so prevalent, yet so unnecessary. I’m talking about truth and support, from real people we don’t know, and will likely never see again. It only takes a few meaningful words to give us as moms, the assurance we can’t give ourselves. There was a woman who looked at me once, clearly seeing the exhaustion, understanding the struggle, and without judgement and with a small smile said, “you’ll be okay.” She was so right.