As a parent you become the recipient of unsolicited advice...

By Lindsay Woods

”You must have patience!” Said by a woman as my then two-and-a-half-year-old was in the grip of a meltdown of nuclear proportions.

My child was wailing because I had removed her from a Bob the Builder ride outside of the supermarket after she had headbutted it on being advised that it was time to go.

She had then proceeded to hold her breath, causing a worrying blue tinge to appear around her lips as I panicked and implored her to, ‘Breathe!’

If that woman had taken a split second to assess the situation instead of merely dispensing her unsolicited advice she would have seen the following; a toddler with a developing golf ball shaped lump on her forehead, a woman on the verge of tears, dripping in sweat with one arm laden down with bags of groceries and another bag containing all the paraphernalia required for my child to leave the house whilst in the other hand, a doll’s buggy which my child had discarded to go all McGregor on an inanimate plastic cartoon character.

I was not shouting at my child, nor had I raised a hand to her. In fact, I was rooted to the spot, like a deer in headlights, not knowing how to properly handle the situation or how best I was going to negotiate getting her to my car. But that woman saw none of these things. She saw a naughty child wailing. She did not see me. Nor my distress or panic.

In the moments following her fleeting statement, I thought to myself, ‘Am I not patient? Was I doing something wrong? Is there a better way? Are there some code words I do not know of that cause toddlers to cease and desist?’

She did not choose to help me. She chose to correct me. Based on her assessment of the situation.

I felt as if I had been slapped. The rising colour, due to embarrassment, in my cheeks almost led me to believe that I had been.

I had no option but to pick my daughter up under my arm and struggle to the carpark. Her wailing had reached fire engine pitch at this stage. The car seemed to move further and further away from me as I trudged towards it. Then, I started to feel everything slip.

My child, the groceries, the doll’s buggy… With no free hands and the fact that my daughter’s entire personage had taken on the outward texture of a seal coated in Vaseline due to a combination of sweat and tears, I only had one option.

My tears came as the carton of eggs hit the ground.

At the car, still wailing, she locked her body into such a state of rigidity as to warrant it a feat of superhuman strength. I had to force her into her car seat as she bucked against me as we both wept. I never went back for the groceries. I threw everything else into the boot and by the time I slumped into the car seat and glanced back at her, she was snoring. I noticed her hair was drenched in sweat so I hoisted myself out of the car to mop her down.

Was this not patience? No doubt, if the woman had been witness to the carpark scenario she would have chastised me for littering on seeing the eggs become a casualty of the ground them fell upon. But that rationale did little to assuage my upset.

As a parent, you become the recipient of much unsolicited advice. Now that my children are older, it does not impact upon me much. Mainly, because it is apparent that the dispenser has usually not even raised a house plant let alone children. Therefore, I can shrug off the suggestions as to what my child should eat or how they should conduct themselves with far more ease than I once did.

However, this nonchalance is not so easily adopted when you are knee deep in the utter sleep deprivation of the early years.

Or during those days when you have slaved over culinary masterpieces only to have it hurled at your head once your back is turned. Or when you let them watch back to back episodes of The Pig from within the secure confines of the baby cage (playpen to some) just so you can close your eyes for five blissful minutes as Madame Gazelle coos the lyrics of ‘Miss Molly had a dolly’.

So, if you encounter a woman or man struggling with a wailing child while laden with bags and an overwhelming sense of despair, ask them, ‘Do you need a hand?’

If they decline. Respect that. But I can guarantee, that you will never witness a look more grateful than theirs as a result of your enquiry.

@thegirlinthepaper