Mom’s Usual Day | Gloria DeGaetano

“I don’t know what you are telling me. Please stop screaming…Use your words, remember?”

I hardly remember floating through grocery shopping with only a list to occupy the whole of me. No tears. No “You can’ts.” Certainly no “Don’t touch thats…” Just me and my list, unobtrusive, strolling the aisle—no one paying the slightest attention.

I liked it that way. Was that only 2.5 years ago? Seems like at least a decade. I can hardly recall that spacious alone feeling. I am never separate now. Not my Self, by my Self, never—not even when my body is far from yours…

Would I have it any other way? Another, loud, resounding, “No.” This time from me.

On good days with you the peace of past solo outings seeps through. We play word games and you laugh with those big blue saucers of yours. You look at carrots and tell me, “Orange is a funny red.” And somehow, we both find that hilarious while I marvel at your artistry.

You amaze and frighten me, child.

“Please stop screaming. Tell Mommy what you want…Here, let me hold you close. Does that help?”

Why here? In the congested vegetable section? I have to wrap you in soothing words, hold you close, while you mimic the sounds a dying animal must make when slaughtered slowly.

The pet food aisle was so less crowded. Request: In the future, could you please time your melt-downs when the audience is scarce or at least scattered?

But here—carts clanking to hastily rush by so as not to circle around us. Eyes pretending not to look. But I see you watching, judging. You over there, was that a smirk? Are you feasting on my shame? Oh, I am sure you had perfect children, being the perfect Mother you are, and this NEVER happened to you, did it?

Who will throw the first rock, I wonder?

Where is that portal to another world, when you need it?

Someone, anyone, throw a blanket over us both…And sing us to sleep.

About this Poem:

What Mom hasn’t been here? Public-melt downs…I have been there. In fact, one situation I remember vividly because I can’t forget it—even after 30 years—the circumstances were too ironic. There we were, my 18-month-old and my four-year-old. Both, yes, BOTH, mind you, were screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs…and basically creating this huge fuss in the grocery store. When who comes by me pushing her cart jauntily and letting me know she knows me. Boy, does she know me—but I don’t know here. In fact, she heard me just that last evening giving a talk to parents!! That’s how she knows me. She was in the audience. (In my defense, I was not talking about what to do about behavior issues—but screen time issues.)

Humbled, I basically muttered something like: “We may know what do, but that doesn’t mean it will work every time, does it now?”

I felt her smirk as she strolled off…

Moral of the story? We Moms are in this all together. It doesn’t matter how many books we read or workshops we attended—or given! What matters is that we figure it out the best we can with our own individual beautiful children and work hard to keep our sanity in that process.

So, here’s to the immense love, amazing courage, and on-going resilience of Moms everywhere.

Enjoy each and every day—as best as you can—because they do “grow out of it.”

And we do, too!

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