Moms are no strangers to other people’s comments about their parenting styles. Everyone—especially those without children—knows EXACTLY what you should do with your two-year-old’s tantrums. (If you’re sensing a bit of sarcasm, that was my intent.) It has taken me quite a long time to learn to let the comments evaporate into nothing before they begin to irritate. However, there is a stream of comments that still get to me—and that is regarding family size. If I have to hear “Are they all yours?!” ONE MORE TIME, I might explode. There are several variations:
“You must be so patient!”
“What do you do with all these kids?!”
“How do you even do it?!”
“You guys are crazy!”
“ANOTHER ONE?!”
“You know what causes that, right?”
“Was this one a surprise?”
“Did you at least space them out?”
“Congrats, I guess?”
These are all actual things I have heard. I can fake laugh like anyone else, but the reality is, when you say any of these things, you’re commenting about my life.
If you have ever thought to utter these words to a mother, just don’t. It only makes a person feel judged.
If you have ever found yourself surprised by a stranger’s comments in the check out line, I’m sorry. People are usually shocked to learn that I chose this life and that I do, in fact, know how birth control works. I even try to get ahead of people and say it for them: “Yes, they’re all mine. Yes, we’re probably crazy. Yes, we wanted a large family.” It still doesn’t seem to curb the need to throw out an unwanted comment. If you find out someone is pregnant, the only thing you should say is “congratulations!”
If you encounter a large family living their life, just keep living yours. If you feel like you need to say something to the mom juggling a baby and two toddlers and another kid riding under the grocery cart, consider a little encouragement. That would be a nice surprise and definitely make that mom’s day. But please, also consider this for ANY mom. Because whether it’s your first or your fifth, momming is hard.
On the flip side of this, I know many women who don’t want a large family and are tired of hearing that they should consider another child. Things like:
“You won’t regret it!”
“Are you going to try for a boy?”
“Don’t you want a girl?”
“Maybe just one more?”
I’m sure these are things they have talked about with their spouse and likely don’t want to discuss with a stranger…or maybe anyone else.
So, what is the impact of these simple comments, really? Are you reading this and thinking I’m just venting, thinking I should pay no regard to others’ words? I mean, they’re just words after all. We should be able to brush them off and move on, right?
Yes, I guess we should, which is what I ultimately choose to do. But when you’re on the receiving end of another person’s comment about your life choices, your mind starts thinking about what that person must assume about you and why there must be a stigma surrounding it. I always feel the need to defend my decision to have a large family (which is sort of sad, come to think of it), and moms shouldn’t have to be on the defensive when it comes to their decisions about family size. I used to wait to go to the grocery store until my oldest child was at school. If I only had three kids with me while I shopped, then people wouldn’t say anything because three seems “more normal” than four. The realization of this really set when I found myself not wanting to tell anyone I was expecting, because I knew the wave of comments that were about to flood in. It took me a few weeks to work up the courage to announce my fourth pregnancy, so I could mentally prep myself to ignore what people said. And getting pregnant with a fifth? I had to pump myself up, tell myself that some people just won’t understand, and finally, take a breath and rip off the Band-Aid. I considered not saying anything to the social media world until there was a baby, but then I dreaded the potential comments with that scenario too.
While I still don’t exactly enjoy hearing a stranger ask if they are all mine or I’m done having kids, I do think I’m getting better at responding with a smile or a nod and letting it roll off my back. Between you and me, sometimes I switch to Spanish and pretend like I don’t understand. “Lo siento, no hablo ingles,” with a well-timed hair flip. I think I’m onto something.
