I need to apologize. So, here is a heart-felt apology from the bottom of my mom heart. I am sorry to all the mothers I judged before becoming a mother. It was wrong and I now realize my mistakes in thinking you were not doing the absolute best you were able to do.
When I first started my career, fresh out of grad school, The Big D and I had just gotten married. We had yet to procreate and gift the world with the Little Rains children. I worked for Oklahoma’s Early Intervention Program called SoonerStart. My place was on a team of Occupational therapists, Speech-Language Pathologist, Physical therapists, Resource Coordinators as a Child Development Specialist. We provided assessment and evaluations, parental support, and intervention and therapy in homes across four counties in Oklahoma. We traveled to many places and had many unique experiences. Some of my greatest professional accomplishments were during these years. I am still amazed by “my babies” and how well they are doing as teenagers now.
So, here I was going into homes of parents of children with special needs or developmental delays. Stress was a constant in many of the families as well as worry and anxiety for their child that was born differently. And I judged you. I may never have said with words my disgust with sitting in dog pee, or rolled my eyes when you answered the door in pajama pants, but I did think things in my very narrow mind. You see, I had no idea that I would be paid back ten fold.
The Big D and I kept it together pretty well after the birth of Ella. When Nick came along, our world started to unravel. Throw in Natey Pie and well, we are just glad he hasn’t been arrested yet.
My house is not clean, my laundry is not done, I do cook when I can, but we eat a lot of food in the car. I no longer give a flying fig what Natey Rains wears out in public. I don’t even try anymore. As long as he has pants on his body, I am thrilled. I wear The Big D’s boxer shorts to drop my children off at school and most of the time I forgo the bra. I once found a half-eaten apple in the back seat of my car and our yard at the compound looks like a third world country. Others judge me. I see their mocking stares at my boxer clad body and not so subtle eye rolls at my no make up face and unwashed hair. Pay back is in full swing my friends.
Hopefully the mothers I judged were not aware of my high-handed and ridiculous assumptions. I may not be unaware of those that continually judge me, frankly, I don’t give a flying.
If you happen upon me half-dressed, dragging a screaming child attached to my right leg, raise your hand and give me a high-five.