Awkward Mom vs. Pity

Dear Moms shooting me wary and pitying looks as my child throws the mother of all fits in the hallway-

Believe me, I get it. I really get it. I know that you don't know where to look, how to look, if to look. I know you aren't quite sure what to do with your hands, because they are aching to reach out to me and you think you shouldn't. I know that you think our unfamiliarity means I don't want your help or smiles. You are wrong. I want both. What I don't want it your pity. That I don't want. Keep your pity.

If anyone is going to be handing out pity, I'll be me. If you decide to give me nothing but pity from your perch up there in the my-child-would-never-behave-like-that clouds, then you are the one who needs the pity.

Because my child is amazing.

Because I am amazing.

Because we are some of the most amazing people you could ever meet and befriend, and you are missing the opportunity of a lifetime if you do not become friends with us right now.

Doesn't cost a lot, just a smile. The real kind. Actual compassion. A nod of understanding. A flash of connection. A brief word. An I've-been-there-too. An It'll-all-be-alright. A my-name's-Rumpelstilskin-what's-yours? That's it, and we're buddies for life.

Because we're life-buddy type of people. We're not fake. We're not fair weather. We're true and strong and here for you when times are tough and someone's throwing a fit in the hallway.

We're amazing. Truly amazing. Utterly amazing. Truly and utterly amazing. And in no need of pity. Keep that and give me your hand.

Anytime you are ready,
Awkward Mom

Truly and utterly amazing.