WhitneyTo Be or Not To Be a Mother -Part Three
February 12th 2007 00:46
Ah, the plane ride from hell. We paid for four seats even though Alex was only fifteen months. Figured it would be easier to amuse her in her own seat. Turns out it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t stay still long enough to require a seat to call her own.
My husband was in charge of Josh (just shy of 3 yrs. old). I was in charge of Alex. We’d brought a backpack filled with toys. We set Josh up with some Legos (he loved Legos) and as long as my husband sat next to him and played with him nonstop he was just fine.
Alex, on the other hand, only wanted to wander up and down, up and down and up and down the aisle. I tried feeding her, reading to her, playing with her, rocking her but the only way she’d stop arching her back and complaining (loudly) was when I walked with her. So I walked her up and down that aisle as the people in their seats grew more and more annoyed and I felt more and more like crying.
I felt powerless over this tiny tot. If I didn’t do what she wanted she’d scream her head off and physically fuss and the other passengers hated that. If I did what she wanted I felt as if I was giving in to a junior tyrant and not being a good parent. But what could I do? I was stuck on a plane for 5 ½ hours. A place I never wanted to be with a three year old and fifteen month old. I’d had no power over that decision either. My husband said we were going and so we were going. What other choice did I have? After all it was his brother and he only had one of those. It made sense. I understood. But then again why couldn’t he have gone himself? Why couldn’t I have stayed home with the kids? Why? Because he wanted his family with him. End of sentence. That’s what he said.
And so there I was. Stuck on a plane with two little unreasonable beings. With all those people around me. Judging and glaring. And I felt worthless and powerless. I was a bad incompetent mother. Why couldn’t I make my child cooperate? Even if she was only fifteen months old I was supposed to set the rules. Even if it wasn’t an easy situation for a child her age, I should have fixed it. Why couldn’t I fix it?
I felt like crying but all I did was smile. I wasn’t even sure what I was saying to Alex (as I tried to calm her) I was so upset. All I know is that I was smiling and holding her hand and trying to look like a good and loving mother. Stop starring, I wanted to say to all of them, even though I completely understood where they were coming from having, been on the other side myself.
And I was so mad at my husband. True he was doing a fine job with Josh. And giving Josh continuous attention for so many hours is not an easy thing. I know. But I was so embarrassed. So embarrassed.
When the plane landed we collected our luggage and strollers and then stopped at the bathroom for me to use. I was washing my hands when an older lady came over and smiled at me. “You poor thing,” she said. “I saw how you struggled with your daughter and how hard it was for you. You poor thing.” And then she left.
Tears filled my eyes. Someone knew. Someone understood what I was going through.
For a second I felt happy and sad at the same time. So I wasn’t just complaining over nothing. She saw how hard I had it. Tears welled in my eyes but I didn’t let them fall. I took a deep breath and did what I had to. I forced a smile on my face and went back to my family. And then we went to get the rental car.
My husband was in charge of Josh (just shy of 3 yrs. old). I was in charge of Alex. We’d brought a backpack filled with toys. We set Josh up with some Legos (he loved Legos) and as long as my husband sat next to him and played with him nonstop he was just fine.
Alex, on the other hand, only wanted to wander up and down, up and down and up and down the aisle. I tried feeding her, reading to her, playing with her, rocking her but the only way she’d stop arching her back and complaining (loudly) was when I walked with her. So I walked her up and down that aisle as the people in their seats grew more and more annoyed and I felt more and more like crying.
I felt powerless over this tiny tot. If I didn’t do what she wanted she’d scream her head off and physically fuss and the other passengers hated that. If I did what she wanted I felt as if I was giving in to a junior tyrant and not being a good parent. But what could I do? I was stuck on a plane for 5 ½ hours. A place I never wanted to be with a three year old and fifteen month old. I’d had no power over that decision either. My husband said we were going and so we were going. What other choice did I have? After all it was his brother and he only had one of those. It made sense. I understood. But then again why couldn’t he have gone himself? Why couldn’t I have stayed home with the kids? Why? Because he wanted his family with him. End of sentence. That’s what he said.
And so there I was. Stuck on a plane with two little unreasonable beings. With all those people around me. Judging and glaring. And I felt worthless and powerless. I was a bad incompetent mother. Why couldn’t I make my child cooperate? Even if she was only fifteen months old I was supposed to set the rules. Even if it wasn’t an easy situation for a child her age, I should have fixed it. Why couldn’t I fix it?
I felt like crying but all I did was smile. I wasn’t even sure what I was saying to Alex (as I tried to calm her) I was so upset. All I know is that I was smiling and holding her hand and trying to look like a good and loving mother. Stop starring, I wanted to say to all of them, even though I completely understood where they were coming from having, been on the other side myself.
And I was so mad at my husband. True he was doing a fine job with Josh. And giving Josh continuous attention for so many hours is not an easy thing. I know. But I was so embarrassed. So embarrassed.
When the plane landed we collected our luggage and strollers and then stopped at the bathroom for me to use. I was washing my hands when an older lady came over and smiled at me. “You poor thing,” she said. “I saw how you struggled with your daughter and how hard it was for you. You poor thing.” And then she left.
Tears filled my eyes. Someone knew. Someone understood what I was going through.
For a second I felt happy and sad at the same time. So I wasn’t just complaining over nothing. She saw how hard I had it. Tears welled in my eyes but I didn’t let them fall. I took a deep breath and did what I had to. I forced a smile on my face and went back to my family. And then we went to get the rental car.
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