Sincerely, Disappointed

A lecture I formulated on the plane and never got the chance to deliver but had to get it out somehow:

Dear Women Behind Us on the Plane 

I'd like to offer some friendly, albeit unsolicited advice. The next time a young mother and her small children sit in front of you on a plane, perhaps you could offer a polite smile or a kind word instead of rolling your eyes and moving to the other side of the plane like we were a bad smell. (Granted, we presented the possibility of a bad smell, but we smelled like roses at the time we boarded.) You see, this was the first time I'd flown in quite some time and the first time I'd braved flying with both of my children. And I lost sleep over several weeks, worrying over how they'd behave. Worried that I'd wind up sitting near someone like you who would have no patience for my little family and assume the worst of us. I must confess to getting more than a little pleasure out of the fact that seconds after you moved away from us, three babies (louder and grumpier than mine) surrounded you on a full flight. I'm not asking you to love my kids, I don't even expect you to think they're cute, but you should be able to sit within a few feet of them for a couple of hours. 

Wishing I could have said all this to you in person,

A Disappointed Mum

I played the interaction out in my head over and over for the two hours we were in the air, but in the end, couldn't bring myself to confront her with what I wanted to say. Instead, with all the courage I could muster, I caught her eye as she passed our row to make her exit and asked, "So, did you get to enjoy your flight?" She looked a little confused and then made the connection that she'd moved away from us earlier. "Oh, well...Nothing personal, you know. Been there done that."

I had wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, telling myself that maybe the older one hadn't been able to bear children and couldn't stand to be within a few feet of them and that the younger one with the laptop was on the verge of making an earth-shattering discovery. But as yet, I haven't heard that cancer has been cured or that we've finally found a way to teleport instead of flying.

But when the woman revealed that she was indeed a mother and she'd gone through what I was currently going through, my heart sank. She knew how hard this was and still chose not to show any compassion or even friendliness. I understand that she "put in her time" and felt like she had earned the right to relax and put her feet up on a flight, which she had! I wasn't expecting her to hold my children or entertain them or even talk to us, it was just the fact that she made a point of moving away from us that upset me. On the rare occasion that I'm out and about without my kids, I try to smile or pass a helpful comment or something to lift a mother's spirit when she's trying to parents a youngster. Waiting in line at the post office and noticing a little boy making his mother crazy, I tried to engage him in conversation to give his mom an infinitesimal break from him tugging at her arm. Something to let someone else know they aren't alone.

I'm in the thick of it and perhaps I'm looking at the future with rose coloured glasses because I can't possibly be more frazzled or sleep-deprived than I am no, but I would like to think that in twenty or so years when my children are taking care of themselves (that will happen, right?) that I will remember enough about my current stage of life to smile at the young mother wrestling two small children by herself in an airplane seat the size of a matchbox. Although by then, I'd like to think we'll be teleporting...or at least they'll be making planes with more leg and elbow room.