Somewhere along the way, we built a story about parenting that says we should be able to handle it all.
The strong mom who never breaks.
The dad who does not ask for help because he is doing this on his own.
The two parent household that should have it figured out because, well, there are two adults.
But real life does not work that way.
We all have seasons where we need more help than others. Sometimes that season lasts a day. Sometimes it lasts years. And sometimes it shows up in the middle of a grocery store with a folding table and a stack of Girl Scout cookies.
Yesterday I was selling at a Girl Scout cookie booth with my six year old daughter. She was done. Completely done. She was not paying attention, was being disruptive when I tried to get her to participate, and had moved on to playing with stacks of water bottles instead of selling cookies.
Meanwhile, I was unraveling.
Public place.
Grocery store.
No option to send her to her room.
Everyone watching.
I was trying to get her to listen while I was completely dysregulated myself. The panic was rising. The frustration was bubbling over. And then the spiral started.
I felt inadequate. Like I was failing in real time. Like everyone around me was watching a horrible mother who could not control her daughter. Every thought snowballed on top of the next one. You should be able to handle this. Other moms do. What is wrong with you. Get it together.
The louder those thoughts got, the harder it became to show up the way my daughter needed me to. I was not just frustrated, I was ashamed. And shame makes everything heavier.
How am I supposed to help my child regulate when I am not regulated myself?
That is when a woman noticed.
She did not judge me. She did not correct me. She did not tell me what I should be doing. She simply said, kindly, it looks like she is done for the day and so is mom.
I laughed and said yes, mom is really done for the day.
Then, while my daughter was running around the grocery store wearing a tablecloth like a cape, this woman gently asked her if she knew how to fold the flag and if she would like to learn using the tablecloth.
Just like that, my daughter paused.
And just like that, I had five seconds.
Five seconds to breathe.
Five seconds to regroup.
Five seconds to remember that my child was not giving me a hard time, she was having a hard time.
That kind woman did something powerful without even realizing it. She made me feel like I was not alone. She gave me a warm smile. She gave me a safe and respectful break from my child for just a moment. And in doing so, she interrupted the spiral in my head.
She did not rescue me.
She did not take over.
She did not shame me.
She simply reminded me that I am human, and that this moment did not define me as a mother.
Today, I think I passed that kindness forward.
I was at Home Depot and noticed a dad struggling with his son. I made eye contact with him, the kind that silently says, I see you. I know this moment. I happened to have a couple small coloring books in my purse. I walked over, said hello to his son, and asked if he would like to look at one.
I talked to him for just a few seconds.
That was all it took.
The adults got a moment to breathe. To regroup. To come up with the next move. To keep going without abandoning the errand and going home defeated.
That is the village.
It is not grand gestures. It is not stepping over boundaries. It is not telling someone how to parent. It is quiet, respectful support that says, I see you and you do not have to do this second alone.
I often feel like a single parent when it comes to raising my kids. My husband works constantly. That is not blame, it is reality. And whether you are parenting solo, co parenting, married, divorced, widowed, or somewhere in between, we all have moments where the load is heavier.
The problem is not needing help.
The problem is that we have taught ourselves we should not.
So I am genuinely curious.
As a parent, would you want that kind of help?
A few seconds of kindness from a stranger.
A pause.
A breath.
From where I am standing, it really does take a village. And sometimes the village is just one person who notices and chooses kindness.
Thought of the Day
You never know how close a parent is to unraveling. A warm smile, a few seconds of help, or simply noticing can be enough to stop the spiral. Be the village when you can.
