In my twenties, I was the go-to babysitter for moms in my area. I had a knack for getting kids to sleep in record time, serving up healthy veggies, and comforting them during those last moments before I left. I was the ultimate babysitter, and I knew it.
But boy, was I clueless.
I vividly recall one night when I finished putting two little girls to bed faster than their mom ever could. When I came downstairs, both parents looked at me in disbelief, especially the mom, who seemed genuinely shocked. She couldn’t understand how I had managed to do what usually took her an hour in just a fraction of that time—without a single tantrum. Smugly, I offered her my secret formula for an easy bedtime routine.
“Oh, just sit by their beds with a flashlight and some books! They can’t get clingy that way. Make sure to ask if they’re cozy right away, and whatever you do, don’t cuddle! Just read quietly and yawn a lot. They’ll be asleep in no time!”
I almost missed the tear rolling down her cheek. She revealed that her bedtime battles could stretch on for an hour or two, and I suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for her. Clearly, she was struggling, unlike my seemingly effortless approach. I felt like I was the parenting guru she desperately needed! Perhaps I should write a book on the subject, since I had it all figured out.
What an arrogant jerk I was.
Fast forward to today, and I find myself deep in the trenches of parenting. My four-year-old’s bedtime routine is an epic saga that easily lasts over an hour. It involves a bubble bath, negotiations over brushing teeth, countless sips of water, repeated pillow fluffing, costume changes, several books, updates on her day, five lullabies, and an avalanche of snuggles.
And just when I think it’s over, she sometimes wakes up three hours later screaming for me after a nightmare. “Mommy! Mommy!!” echoes through the house until I finally come to her room, only to be met with a furious “Go awayyy!” if I try to comfort her. Did I mention we have a one-year-old struggling to sleep as well?
These early days of motherhood have been exhausting and humbling. I’ve come to realize how little I truly understood about parenting before I entered this world myself.
I once had a friend who would plop her toddler in front of the TV during our coffee dates, and I would silently judge her for potentially creating a screen-zombie. Didn’t she know the risks? I was quick to assume she was making poor choices without considering her reality.
But wait, there’s more! I had grand plans for raising my future kids. I envisioned being the ultimate plant-based mom on YouTube, enforcing strict no-screen policies, serving organic dinners every night, breastfeeding until they self-weaned, and ensuring my kids were so blissful that public tantrums would be a thing of the past. I thought I’d bounce back physically within six months of giving birth.
Now? Reality is a different story. My TV rules have vanished, snacks are strewn all over the couch, and I often find myself huddled in a corner scrolling on my phone. Our dinner table has become a chaotic art station cluttered with half-finished coffee cups and toys, while breastfeeding has tested my patience like nothing else. My daughter has public meltdowns, and all I can do is wait for them to pass.
As for my body? I’ve learned that it doesn’t just “bounce back”—and it shouldn’t have to.
Now, I’m that frazzled mom at school drop-offs, often unshowered for days and juggling piles of chaos in my car. I’ve dropped the facade of being a perfect parent and have gained empathy for every mother I once judged.
To all the moms I looked down upon, I sincerely apologize. I was utterly mistaken about everything. I see now how you held your families together while I breezed in with my assumptions. I wish I had asked if you needed help or offered words of encouragement instead of criticism. Motherhood has brought me to my knees, and now I truly understand the challenges you face.
Anyone without children who thinks they know better than the brave mothers showing up for their kids every day is missing out on the truth. Motherhood transforms you, reshaping you into a more authentic and empowered individual, but it’s a journey that must be lived.
Until you walk that path, support the mothers around you, cheer them on, and give them the compassion they deserve. Please don’t make the same mistakes I did. Avoid judging someone’s parenting based on a fleeting moment of vulnerability.
Now that I’m a mom, I wholeheartedly believe we’re all in this together, doing our best with what we have. We’re allowed to make mistakes and are so much more than the impossible standards we once set for ourselves. We all deserve a break.
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Summary:
This piece reflects on the transformation from a child-free, judgmental perspective to the humbling reality of parenthood. The author shares humorous yet poignant insights on their previous misconceptions about parenting, the overwhelming challenges faced in raising children, and a heartfelt apology to those they once judged. The journey of motherhood is depicted as one filled with learning, empathy, and the understanding that everyone is doing their best.
