Everybody Needs a Pat on the Back

One of my major goals in parenthood is to avoid ever becoming (or at least being perceived as) frazzled. So a huge obstacle to overcome in that never-ending struggle is running errands with boys in tow. Especially when those errands take me anywhere near the post office.

If you've ever waited for a package from me in the mail, after this story you may understand why it takes me so long. :)

It was snowing pretty hard yesterday when I finally got the boys and our package bundled and ready for the post office. I lured Isaac into cooperation with promises similar to those Walter makes to Buddy in the movie Elf: shiny bins, letters, packages, stamps, happy mailmen...when I was done, the post office sounded like a magical place.

In actuality we all know that a trip to the post office generally means one thing: waiting in line. Which we did. I had the boys in their stroller, but that lasted about 20 seconds. I let Isaac get out under the condition that if he strayed, to the stroller he would return. Anders started bucking against his seat belt, so soon they were both out and I was wrangling them, the stroller, and the box to send.

In my effort to avoid Frazzled Mom mode, I tried to keep the boys occupied. I got them playing peek-a-boo with each other, I explained to Isaac how the mail worked, and when we got to a rug that had writing on it, Isaac stood on different letters as we identified them together. When it was our turn at the counter, he got out my credit card and handed it to the lady and told her our address. It was busy, but successful.

Then I stepped to the side, got all our coats back on, got them buckled back in the stroller and went on my way. As I did, a lady who was about five people behind me in the long line called out to me. "You get an award for being a kind and creative mom! Really, it is going to pay off, too. They're going to grow up to be good people. Have a nice day!"

I was so flattered. I was in one of the most difficult situations to keep the boys happy, under the gaze of many strangers (none of whom were probably thrilled to be standing in that line, either), and to have some random lady recognize that I was doing a good job meant a lot. I left there feeling so proud of myself and my boys and grateful for the kind words of a stranger.

We all need recognition for the job that we're doing, and it's rare to get meaningful praise as a mother. I have gotten a few words of encouragement like this in the past, and those compliments really stick with me.

Once we had our pastor over and Isaac was being a little wild. I gave him a warning and then a time out. When Pastor Bill left, he said to me, "By the way, I thought that the way you dealt with Isaac was really good. You were firm but you did it in such a way that wouldn't embarrass him in front of a visitor."

If you see a person doing a good job--especially at this difficult work of parenthood, be sure to tell him/her! It's such a little gesture, but words stick with us and keep us going through the challenges of raising good people.