The other night, I carried my daughter into a restaurant for dinner. As we approached the hostess, she remarked, “Oh dear, you’re getting too big for that,” addressing my daughter. We chose to brush it off politely. When our waitress seated us, she chimed in with, “Sweetie, why not give your mom a break? You can walk.” Again, we ignored her.
Once settled and perusing our menus, I noticed a table nearby staring at us. A woman there declared (loudly, of course), “It’s sad how kids today can’t seem to be present for anything. They can’t even take their headphones off while eating!” This comment was followed by a discussion at her table about the impact of phones and tablets on kids. I recognized the remark was aimed at us, and I hoped my daughter didn’t catch on.
What those onlookers didn’t realize was my daughter’s journey. They were unaware that her body had let her down. They didn’t understand that those headphones muted the noise to prevent a potential seizure. They didn’t know the tablet was her only means of communication, or that I carried her because her legs could no longer support her. They were oblivious to the fact that we had stopped for dinner on our way to the hospital, where she would be admitted the following day. A place where I would hear the dreaded call of “code blue,” as a trauma team surrounded her.
They didn’t know because it wasn’t their concern. They didn’t know because my child’s story wasn’t theirs to judge. They didn’t understand that neither she nor any sick child owes anyone an explanation for what brings them joy or helps them navigate a world they belong to. The protective mother in me wanted to retaliate against those who made her feel out of place, maybe even toss some bread rolls (it was a casual joint, after all). But I held back because my daughter deserved better.
She deserved kindness—the kind she freely gives to everyone around her. She deserved to be included, to enjoy a meal out without being labeled as different or wrong. At just 12 years old, facing challenges many adults can’t even imagine, she deserved a worry-free evening with her mom. And those strangers threatened that.
There’s a saying often attributed to various sources, including Plato, which goes, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.” How profound is that?
How simple it is to move about our lives, focused on our families and meals. What if, instead, we chose to be a source of support? Imagine if someone had looked at my daughter and offered, “Can I grab her a chair?” or simply greeted us instead of making snide remarks about her devices.
Life is bustling, and we often only cross paths briefly. But in those fleeting moments, we have the power to spread joy rather than judgment. How much brighter could our shared spaces become?
So, fellow moms, let’s shine our light and choose kindness. But if you can’t manage that, for goodness’ sake—just keep quiet.
If you’re interested in more insights on motherhood and beyond, explore our blog post on home insemination here. For a deeper understanding of artificial insemination methods, check out this excellent resource from Healthline here. And if you’re looking for an authoritative guide on home insemination kits, visit here.
In summary, we’re reminded to be compassionate, as everyone has their struggles. A little understanding can go a long way in creating a more inclusive environment for all.
Keyphrase: compassion in parenting
Tags: [“home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”]