Dear Mom on the flight last week,
I genuinely want to express my regret.
I could see the weariness etched on your face as we boarded that cramped little plane. It was late, and the flight was delayed, and I could tell that your day had been even longer than mine. You had your little boy in your arms, probably around three years old, and he was already fidgeting, clearly at his limits.
I’m sorry for not reaching out to you when I noticed your exhaustion.
As I settled into my seat next to my husband and across from my teenage kids, I focused on my book and headphones, shutting my eyes for a moment to regain some energy. I’ve forgotten just how challenging traveling with toddlers can be. I’m now at a stage where I often overlook the struggles you face. It’s so easy to forget the sheer effort it takes to manage a child through an airport and onto a plane.
I apologize for not remembering how difficult that journey was for you.
As our flight began, the pilot took his time taxiing, and your little boy made his discomfort known, his cries echoing through the cabin. I could hear the sighs of annoyance from other passengers, and I wish I had been able to catch your gaze to offer a reassuring smile or a nod of understanding.
When we finally took off, your son’s ears began to hurt, and I could sense your struggle to maintain patience as you tried to soothe him. I have been there myself, feeling the weight of stress when my child’s emotions erupted in public.
I’m sorry I couldn’t get up to help or offer a toy to distract him.
Throughout the flight, it became clear that you were having a tough time. I could hear your frustration in your voice, resonating with the empathy from my own past experiences. Toddlers can be challenging on good days, but at 35,000 feet on a late night, it’s a whole different ball game. With the bumpy ride, staying seated must have felt torturous for you both.
I regret not offering to play “peek-a-boo” with him, a trick that always lightened the mood during my flights with toddlers.
As we began our descent, I could see the exhaustion in both of you. Your patience was thin, and I could hear the tremors of tears in your voice. When you reached your breaking point and spanked him, the sound of his cries filled the cabin. You began to cry too, and my heart broke for both of you.
I’m truly sorry I couldn’t be there to support you in that moment.
That plane full of passengers let you down during what was undoubtedly one of your hardest times, and I feel ashamed for not stepping up. I heard you apologizing to your little boy, expressing your regret for losing your cool, and it struck a chord with me.
I wish I could have gotten up to console you, to remind you that parenting is not easy and that it’s okay to struggle. I’ve been in your shoes, feeling the same frustration and guilt after losing my temper.
I’m sorry for not being a better ally when you needed it the most. Next time, I promise to do better in supporting a fellow mother. We are all navigating this journey together, and I see you.
No judgment here, only understanding.
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In summary, I want you to know that you’re not alone. Parenting is an incredibly tough job, especially in public spaces. I see you, I hear you, and I hope we can all do better for one another in times of need.
Keyphrase: Mothering on a Plane
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