To the Mom with the iPhone…Whatever!

To all you parents harassing the mom on her iPhone:  Stop it.

A few weeks or months ago, I have no concept of time at this point in the game, someone’s well-meaning blog post about paying attention to your kids went viral.  It was a little thoughtful and a lot sanctimonious.  The main theme was that parents should put down their iPhones and pay attention to their children.  I mainly agree with this sentiment, in general.  However, I have a few howevers to go over.

Maybe that mom had been hanging out with her kid all day.  Maybe she’d spent an entire day down on the floor playing with her kid or kids.  Maybe she’d made three meals and five snacks and cleaned up the living room about fifty times.  Maybe she is a single mom and her only chance to catch up on social media is at the playground.  The original post didn’t mention if her kid went missing so presumably she was somewhat watching them just like I am somewhat watching mine right now.  It’s none of your business basically. 

Yes, we should put down the electronics sometimes.  Or much more often.  But there are days, like today, when it was really important for me to stare at a live stream feed of hospital doors for several hours while I awaited, with great anaticipation, the news of the royal baby.  I refuse to feel guilty for that because I also made breakfast, lunch, dinner, and five snacks, three of which were my own.  I basically picked up toys for five hours and then mademoiselle royal baby (the one who lives with me) only took an hour long nap so if I worked for a company with actual pay, I could’ve sued for not getting appropriate breaks. 

I’m just saying, let’s not judge someone’s parenting by a five minute window into their lives.  And don’t we take our kids to the park so they’ll play with other kids and not us?  If not, then I have the whole concept wrong.  I would be lying if I said that I enjoy playing peek-a-boo for six hours a day.  I might enjoy the first fifteen minutes.  I can make a lovely memory with that.  Five hours later, things are not so precious.  Another thing I get tired of?  Singing the Lightning McQueen song that I wrote and produced, but my son won’t take no for an answer so I do it. 

Another thing iPhone mom might be doing?  She might be having a fight with someone on Facebook or live-tweeting the playground experience for relatives in Milwaukee.  Perhaps she is doing her job!  Aren’t they kind to let her work from home so she can take her own kids to the playground?  Maybe Cousin Roger emailed her to tell her that grandma left her nothing in the will!

No matter what she was doing, it isn’t my place to be judgy about it because every time I am judgy about another mother, I am putting negative energy into the universe.  If we mothers don’t support each other, then NO ONE WILL.  For some reason, that I will never understand, mothers are entirely underappreciated.  If you would like to adequately appreciate me, I take checks, cash, and all gifts except kittens.  I do know that things won’t change if the mothers of this world keep being jerks to each other.  So I’m going to try to really hard to “be the change I wish to see” and all that. 

The mosquitoes at my house are killer so I’m going to go drown myself in lavender and peppermint essential oil mixed with coconut oil to help with the itching.  (I am also a wealth of information about essential oils, you are very welcome.)


6 thoughts on “To the Mom with the iPhone…Whatever!

    1. (You say misspelling, I say “anaticipation” is an adorable new word for what an Anna does before royal events.)

  1. Very true, and very well written. I’m sick to death of ALL women criticizing ALL other women. My own child is all grown up (22), so this doesn’t apply to me directly any more. But she’s a nanny, and she gets ALL kind of crap from bystanders for doing ANYTHING at the park other than shadowing them. She was raised by a mom (me!) who thought park time was time for them to get acquainted with nature (pick up leaves, stare at the clouds), with each other, with other children. She keeps a GOOD eye on them, but doesn’t interfere every 2 seconds. Oh, and this is the way the MOM wants her kids to be raised. As she tells my daughter, often, “no helicopter mom also equals no helicopter nanny.”

    We aren’t our OWN worst enemies. We are EACH OTHERS’ own worst enemies. So here’s the deal. If you have two X chromosomes, let’s all try to lay off everyone else with two X chromosomes. OK, ladies??

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