The Sweetest Mother's Day Gift!

The blogosphere is filled with stories about mothers judging other mothers. So many articles fuel the ‘mommy wars’ in some way, even inadvertently. We all say don’t judge, support each other and lift each other up. We are all doing the best we can with what we have. We need to help out and be a village. Try to remember that a quick glimpse of someone’s day only yields small bits of information – the mother who is reading a text at the park while her kids play might be the mother who just found out her husband is cheating and just needed to get help from a friend. I don’t know the situation so I can’t judge.

But sometimes, I do judge. I confess. There are situations where I can’t talk myself out of criticizing someone else, no matter how rational I am or how hard I try.

“Could you take in a newborn infant, and then, in a few weeks, let her go?”

This question was the lead in to the blog post “Wanted: Temporary Foster Homes for Newborns” in the New York Times

The post talked about interim care for newborns and the need for volunteers. Interim care, for those who don’t know, is for babies that have been exposed to drugs prenatally. The infants suffer serious effects from withdrawal to drugs like heroin, cocaine, and meth, to name a few. Those who volunteer to do interim care learn how to touch and comfort babies that go through withdrawal and recover, while the birth parents (who still have full legal rights) consider their next steps (adoption, for example).

 It sounds lovely, doesn’t it, to help the smallest and most vulnerable in society get what they need to thrive? To make a difference that can be so big?

I knew I could never, ever do it. Not because I wouldn’t love to help these babies. But because, despite knowing how addictive drugs are, how they can take over and rule someone’s life, how life can drag people down to the point that they don’t know how to change or help themselves even when they want to desperately, I would want to beat the crap out of these mothers. Watching newborns deal with withdrawal when they should be at home, cuddled and comforted and fed and held and loved?

Well, I couldn’t do it.

It makes me judgmental and that makes me weak. But I know myself and I couldn’t stand by over and over again and watch babies finally become healthy only to have them returned to birth parents that didn’t take care of them. Birth mothers that cared more about their fix than they cared about their babies, birth mothers who were selfish and didn’t give their children a better life than a drug addicted mother who wasn’t strong enough to stay away from drugs in order to be strong for their baby. I’d have to watch mothers come to visit their children and seethe with rage that they did this to their own babies. I’d have to bite my tongue all the time to keep sarcastic, hurtful, judgmental comments from being slung in their direction.

I don’t want to be that person. It’s not empathetic. It’s not compassionate. It doesn’t help anyone, not the babies, not the mothers, not society, not even me, to judge instead of offering support and sympathy. It solves nothing about our drug problem or our lack of support for addicts and mothers and parents. And yet, I still judge. I still couldn’t do it. I would want to take every single one of those babies home with me.

To the volunteers who provide interim care, I salute you and your compassion, empathy, and acceptance of others, helping and changing the world one small cuddle at a time. You are an inspiration and I will strive to do better, thanks to your example.

Photo credit: howardignatius via VisualHunt / CC BY-NC-ND

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Kathleen Regan

I'm Kathleen (or Katie). I grew up in a small town in Kansas and have always loved reading and writing. Before deciding to stay at home when my daughter was born, I was a youth services librarian. My dream is to be a work-at-home-writer-mom to my two kids, Alice (4) and Henry (2). I blog at http://www.hagusandlightbulbs.blogspot.com/ (Hagus is my best friend's nickname for me...don't ask).

Robotics Kids Are Building More than You Can See

In: Kids
Robotics kid watching competition

These robotics kids are going to shape our future. I think this every time I watch an elementary, middle school, or high school competition. My thoughts go back many years to when my middle child, who was six at the time, went with my husband to the high school robotics shop. They were only stopping in briefly to pick up some engineering kits, but my child quickly became captivated by what the “big kids” were doing. He stood quietly watching until one student walked over and asked if he would like to see what they were working on. My son,...

Keep Reading

Foster Care Kids Are Worth Fighting for

In: Kids
Hand holding young child's hand

Sometimes foster care looks like bringing a child from a hard place into your home. Sometimes it looks like sitting at a ball field with a former foster love’s mom and being her village. He’s the one who has brought me to my knees more times than my own children. He’s the one I lie awake at night thinking about. He’s the one I beg the father to protect. He’s the one who makes me want to get in the trenches over and over again. It’s our Bubba. So much of the story is not mine to tell, but the...

Keep Reading

We Aren’t Holding Her Back—We’re Giving Her More Time

In: Kids
Child writing on preschool paper

When we decided to give our preschooler another year before kindergarten, I thought the hardest part would be explaining it to other people. I was wrong. The hardest part was the afternoon her teacher asked to talk. In that split second in the pick-up line, my heart sank. I assumed the worst. I braced myself for a conversation about behavior, about something we had somehow missed, about whether her strong personality was causing problems. Instead, it became the moment that confirmed what we already knew. We were not holding her back. We were giving her time. Our daughter is bright....

Keep Reading

A Life Lived Differently Is Not a Life Less Lived

In: Kids
Little boy running in field

My life changed on that beautiful autumn day. The thing is, nothing really happened. Not really. My life kind of went on as usual. A fly on the wall might even say it was a great day. I brought my 3-year-old son to an animal farm for a Halloween event. He was quirky as usual and a bit ornery that day. Aloof. “Come feed the baby animals,” I pleaded. No, thank you. Crowds of excited children? Absolutely not. Buckets of candy? You can keep them. My heart ached watching my beautiful, blonde-haired boy wander into a field alone, away from...

Keep Reading

Enjoy the Ride, Kid

In: Kids
Two people running up from the water at the beach

Last night I watched an episode of Shrinking. If you haven’t jumped into the series yet, it’s one of those that hits the heart hard- at least for me. The episode centered on the birth of a baby, while one of the characters grappled with the closing years of life. Spoiler alert: as the elder of the group cradled this new life in his arms, bridging generations across the hospital room, the moment of realization of how fast life goes hit like a ton of bricks. “Enjoy the ride, kid.” The final words of this episode are sitting with me,...

Keep Reading

Mommy, Will You Play With Me?

In: Kids, Motherhood
Boy sitting in middle of toys smiling

With four kids at three different schools, our days are full. Between sports practices, music lessons, clubs, rehearsals, games, meets, and playdates, it feels like we’re constantly heading somewhere. I love that my children are involved in activities, but occasionally, it’s nice to have some downtime. When I get a text or email that a practice has been canceled, it’s usually a huge relief. Last week, after-school sports were cancelled due to heavy rain. When I picked up my youngest son from school, I told him we’d be going straight home for the rest of the afternoon. He looked surprised....

Keep Reading

Could We Take a Page from the ’80s and Stop Overparenting?

In: Kids, Motherhood

I have a confession: Yesterday I let my 11-year-old play with fire. Like literally. We live in the country, there is still wet snow on the ground, and he’s done it with his dad at least 20 times. But yesterday was the fifth consecutive day of no school, and probably the twentieth consecutive day of him asking to have a small fire without dad. Part of me did it out of laziness. Part of me did it out of selfishness. And part of me did it out of nostalgia. Here’s the thing—when I was 11, I was already babysitting (like...

Keep Reading

A Big Brother Is His Little Sister’s First Friend

In: Kids
Big brother and little sister smiling at each other

He doesn’t remember the day she came home.But she has never known a world without him. From the beginning, he was there first. The first to reach for her hand. The first to explain the rules. The first to decide what was fair and what absolutely was not. He didn’t know he was being assigned a role. He just stepped into it. Big brother. She followed him everywhere. Into rooms she technically wasn’t invited into. Into games she didn’t fully understand. Into stories she insisted on hearing again and again. She wanted to do what he did, say what he...

Keep Reading

7 Is the Bridge Between Little and Big Kid

In: Kids
Girl sitting in front of dollhouse

I was in the middle of the post-holiday clean-up chaos when something hit me. My oldest daughter is seven, and while it feels like an age that doesn’t get talked about much, it really is turning out to be such a sweet spot. It hit me as we were redesigning her room. A change that occurred when she broke my mama-heart a few weeks prior by saying she didn’t think she wanted a princess room anymore. While everything in me wanted to try to convince her to keep it, stay small and sweet just a little longer, I knew I...

Keep Reading

So God Made a Gymnast

In: Kids
Young gymnast on balance beam

God made a gymnast with fearless grace, strength in her heart, and a fire in her spirit. He molded her courage, steady and true, and quietly whispered, “We believe in you.” He taught her balance when life feels chaotic and messy, to leap into her faith and stick each landing just right. When she stumbles, He is always right there to help her rise back up with faith in her soul and a spark in her eyes. Each floor routine with the grace of a swan; each move is a dream, all built on dedication and grit. God made her...

Keep Reading