My son wouldn’t sit still.
He was talking when he wasn’t supposed to.
And, despite all my strategic pleas and desperate measures, he refused to sit quietly like the other kids.
I see you looking. And, I feel you judging.
Your eyes tell me, “why can’t she control her kid?”
First, he’s three. There’s no excuse at any age, and there always should be good manners but a three-year old boy doesn’t like to sit still.
If you haven’t had one, don’t even start to judge.
Second, just because you don’t see any challenges, disorders, ailments or physical reasons why my son behaves this way, let’s remember we’re all dealing with things not visible to the eye.
I have medical issues that cause my skin to burn or feel like pins and needles. It happens while I’m typing this, worse when I’m tired (hello, daily) or cold, and yet I continue about my day.
You don’t see it and I don’t like to belabor about it, but I certainly feel it. And some days I’m sure it affects my mood, even when I don’t realize it.
Similarly, our son has some behavioral and speech stuff we’re working through.
Evan is the sweetest, he’s so smart, loves to cuddle and watch Doc McStuffins, is fanatical about all music (especially Adele), has such an impressive ability to dance on beat, is so lovable and only wants to play outside and ride scooters with his sister. He completes our family.
He’s also been working with a speech therapist the past year, and during a series of testing, qualified for additional services related to impulsive behaviors as well.
It’s all about early intervention, and I’m learning every day this process.
But, change doesn’t happen overnight.
He’s three and we’re doing the best we can.
I know you don’t know any of this but I feel your eyes. They burn.
I’ve likely been guilty of the same over the years before I knew better…. to the parent struggling with their kid in the grocery store, or the airport or in the park.
Now, my reaction is different.
Because I know. Honestly, though, it should have been all along.
I now give a smile to a mom whose kid is screaming. I speak up. I tell her I promise I’ve been there, or offer to wheel her cart while she carries her kid.
Every outstretched hand or gracious comment can make another woman feel more accepted, and less alone, frustrated or embarrassed over a situation she has little control over, and promise you, that she likely doesn’t want to be in either.
It’s so easy to make an assumption on someone’s life based on our own experiences but rarely does that paint an accurate, complete picture.
Imagine where we’d be if we were a little kinder, a little more gentle and compassionate?
We’re all in this together. Let’s remember that.