Hot Mess Library Mom...that's me

A dear friend called me this morning to express her frustration with this thing called parenthood. Well, not parenthood in general, but the fact that, as mothers, no matter what we do, someone will be looking over their shoulder and judging. My friend (who shall remain anonymous if she wishes) is a very cautious mom in general. Super cautious. It is a stretch for her to allow her kids to run, but as she knows exploring within boundaries is in their best interests, she allows her children to run in front of her while out on a walk. At this point, the parenting gurus who bemoan the fact that "kids these days don't get any exercise or get to explore" are nodding their heads in approval.

Enter two (I am sure) well-meaning police officers. They pull over, address my friend, and admonish her to keep her children closer to her next time. My friend was crushed and embarrassed. The officers had no idea how hard it is for her to loosen her boundaries.

We both agreed that, had it been a father with his children on a walk, a different tone would have been taken. "Oh, those kids, they sure like to run, don't they!" "It's great to see an involved dad."

After ending my phone call with my friend I headed into town. The kids and I were going to go to the library and run a few errands. Since we found the library closed until 11:30, we ran our errands beforehand.  

To backtrack, I am always a hot mess at the library. I am not sure why, but my children always end up being completely out of character and I always end up being overly anxious and weird. My usually-clingy daughter wants out of her ring sling to run. My rule-following son becomes selectively deaf. I forget the diaper bag and the toddler poops in her cloth diaper. I knock over the display case (okay, that one was at the grocery store).

But today I was prepared. I had packed snacks. I had packed water. I had remembered diapers for the toddler. All our old library books were packed neatly in a bag. I thought we were set.

We had been running errands, though, and at this point my bladder was *done.* I instructed my four year old to quietly read while I ran to the bathroom.

When the toddler and I returned, he was obediently sitting reading and had picked out several books. I was sure I had this library trip in the bag. My daughter (19 months old) requested to get out of her ring sling, and I obliged. She sat nicely in a chair while I looked over my "Goodreads" list of books to read (an app on my phone).

That's when it hit the fan. As we trekked to the grown-up section, Little Miss Toddler decided to run. Usually when she gets further than six inches away from me she veers right back like I am magnetic, whimpering and hiding her face. Not this time. Giggling, she ran out of my reach in seconds. In his quest to be "helpful," Big Brother ran after Little Sister, alternating between laughing and tattling on her.

"I just need one book," I said to myself and found the first book on my list. Skimming the back I realized it wasn't what I was looking for at all and went to the next book on the list. Before I did that, I rounded both kids up. The toddler screamed at the top of her lungs with laughter and then anger when I grabbed her. She was *not* being stuffed into her ring sling, and kept screaming as long as I held her. 

The library didn't have the second, third, or fourth books on my list. I decided to try to find a classic, Gone with the Wind. No bananas. It wasn't there. Between each of these book quests, I had to round up both kids, who screamed as I cornered them, the youngest continuing to scream as I held her.

"I give up," I finally voiced, and returned, bookless, to the children's section to check out our books. I was sweating, my pulse was up and the toddler was still screaming, the four-year-old still giggling at her despite the fact that I had removed his coveted movie night privileges.

I shoved the pile of books on the counter as the kids ran rampant again (we had too many books for me to hold onto both of them and check them out at the same time).

"Do you have your library card?" the librarian asked.

"No," I whispered under my breath. I realized I'd have to give her my name, which would require talking. And I was at the end of my rope. My emotions were stretched to their limit, my cheeks were already red with embarrassment, so of course when she asked my name my voice caught and I teared up. And cried. "It's been quite a day," I was able to offer before I grabbed my four year old, who lay down on the floor so I had to drag him. I headed for the door, and the toddler headed for the toilet.

The whole time I could just hear the thoughts of the other library patrons who were trying to read, work, or study (the thoughts that would have been mine before I had kids). Can't she control her kids? Back in my day I would have gotten my butt smacked for acting like that. Why bring your kids to the library if they're going to disrupt others? 

Along with the popular pressures mothers face...Let your kids be kids. If the wrong person catches you spanking your child they could call CPS on you. If you need to spank you're obviously not parenting right. You need to read to your children.

I also realized, once I got home, that I was wearing a shirt that read (in large, capital letters) DRINK MONTANA BEER. So I was probably also being judged for that. My lax attitude toward alcohol (drinking a craft beer with supper a couple times a week) is probably the reason I am such a terrible parent. On the other hand, if I didn't consume alcohol, I would be accused of being too uptight and my kids would surely rebel once they hit adulthood.

The moral is, I don't know. There's no winning at motherhood. Someone will always be looking at you and thinking you need to be doing something differently. If they're not, you will think they are, because, well, they usually are. There will always be a circumstance in which your kids will act out, or someone will perceive that your kids are acting out (in my friend's case). For now, I will have to bring a more restrictive carrier for the toddler next time we go to the library (which might be a very long time!!) and accept with grace my title of Hot Mess Library Mom.