Don't mess with my kids ... or hers

By Patti

I have been self-granted a certain freedom which goes along with the Certificate of Motherhood; this right allows me to point out my children's faults, but I better not hear anyone else doing the same. Don't mess with my kids.

It is with an air of surprise and humility that I admit I have recently taken this sense of maternal protection to a new level.

Just last week, my children and I were innocently attending a birding workshop, held by our favorite local naturalist.

Mr. Naturalist gears events such as this toward people of all ages, and despite his own advanced age, it is obvious he takes great pride in educating the very young of our population in all that he knows. He is a rare find -- one who truly welcomes children. And, as any mother can relate, when a treasure such as he is found, a sense of appreciation and respect quickly forms.

It was during this most recent visit with Mr. Naturalist that I noted several attendees who appeared to be attending for the first time. Most were adults; however, in the back of the room was a child of maybe seven or eight (and his mother), who quickly proved himself to be well-mannered and quite knowledgeable on bird recognition. He knew more than I did. He politely raised his hand each time he wanted to contribute to the conversations; however, on most occasions, he was taken over by one specific woman with perfectly applied make-up and not a hair out of place, who would speak loudly and persistently until only she was heard.

Along with this young boy and his mother was another child, perhaps two years of age. The mother, armed with an umbrella stroller, snacks, sippy cups, books and quiet toys, parked her family in the back in the room, closest to the door.

Not far into the first hour, I looked at the mother and saw myself not too many years ago. How many times did I seek out events like this one for my oldest, toting along two younger children, both in diapers? My mind worked feverishly to keep the twin stroller moving; to prevent destruction of a lovely educational opportunity for their oldest sister and everyone else in attendance. There were too many times to count. Somehow, we survived them all and eventually grew out of that phase of our life together.

At once, the toddler began to cry. The mother quickly scooped up her son, whisked him to the door, and just as they were leaving the room, the child began to wail. The maternal instinct within me looked back at the older boy, to see if he appeared to be OK as he was left in the room without his family. As I did so, my eyes met those of the same woman who had previously been trying to monopolize this talk on birding. The woman who desperately desired to change the topic of the day to, "What Birds I Attract to My Yard and How I Do It."

What I saw on her face was horrifying. With utter disgust, she looked back at the mother, leaving the room with her crying child, and rolled her eyes in a way that I can imitate perfectly yet cannot put into words.

The anger she provoked in me was powerful, to say the least. How dare that woman be offended by a crying child, and one who was being removed from the room, no less?

How dare she consistently prevent a child from speaking? How dare she attend this public event and try to monopolize the conversations?

For the next portion of the workshop, I heard nothing Mr. Naturalist said. Instead, I was gathering my thoughts and rehearsing snide comments I was going to say to That Rude Woman after the group dissembled.

It is probably a fortunate occurrence, however, that I did not follow through with those plans. I thought it might be disrespectful to Mr. Naturalist, a person we as a family have admired for almost 10 years now. Not to mention, it might have been a bit immature.

Instead, I was left thinking of what a powerful, unspoken bond we moms have. Don't mess with my kids. Or anyone else's.

Patti is many things, but is most importantly, a protective mom.

Comments

[Mimi]

I know exactly how you felt. I have received a number of unwarranted questions and ugly stares over the years carting my four kids around town.

[Damselfly]

I like it.

As a person who considers herself a bird/wildlife watcher, I have to say there seems to be a large portion of birdwatchers who are real know-it-alls. I spent an afternoon on a bird-a-thon (hee! I can hear you laughing), and by the end was emotionally tired by all the know-it-all birdwatchers. This Rude Woman came to the talk to prove how knowledgeable she is about birds -- and no kid was going to show her up. Children! My goodness, they'll scream and cry and scare away all the birds! ;) Maybe I'm off base about this birdwatcher thing, but in my experience, unfortunately, some are like that. Good thing Mr. Naturalist has an interest in teaching kids about nature.