Dear 20-something Pointy-Toe Shoe guy in the Starbucks line at Sick Kids who used body language to judge my parenting today…Fuck you.

That's what I said in my head. That was my reaction. And it would be very easy to start this entry this way. It's funny. It's how I felt and I like the sense of righteous indignation I feel when I say it. I'm confident that loads of other people out there will give a quiet "Yeah! Take that pointy shoe guy!" and I will feel the invisible force of all the other parents out there saying "Yeah! Fuck you! You don't know me!" and all the other things we want to say, we kind of wish we were brave enough to say but never actually do because we are too polite and we prefer to rant about it later. Case in point.

I wonder if Pointy Toe shoe guy can fathom the kind of hell my daughter and I have endured. I wonder if he can appreciate that she was asking for a colouring book from the shop to take in the car with her on the 2+ hour drive home - because I won't let her have her iPad in the car. I wonder if he realizes that this little girl has been up since 5AM to spend the day at the hospital and has had blood taken and done a Pulmonary Function Test which, while not invasive, isn't exactly a ride on the teacups at Disney World. This little girl has had a total of 3 fellows and 2 residents examine her and ask her questions between 2 clinics and 4 waiting rooms. I wonder if he knows this was an easy day. This was a good day. I wonder if he can appreciate that when I said no - and then later said yes - that I was not losing my resolve, I was acknowledging that buying a $12 colouring book would be a good investment if we got stuck on the QEW on the way home (which we did).

But that's just a reaction. Because after that moment of heat - where the blood rushes to you face and you feel the reaction happening - there was a moment of realization. In that moment I looked at Pointy Shoe guys and realized: I was you. I still am. I am judgemental and I react. I am insecure and feel better - however briefly - when I can feel superior to others. While it is not as often as it used to be … I am still this person too often. And I hate it

I like to joke that judging people is one of my hobbies. I love people watching. I tell people it's because I like to imagine what those people's lives are like - and that is kind of true. I do. But I also like to see how I'm doing and I sometimes use society as a barometer. Like any poorly designed measurement system, this barometer occasionally lets me down or doesn't give me the results I want…so I change the measurement system.  For example, if I use the gym as a guide I occasionally feel amazing if I'm having a good day, I'm not getting in my own way and I'm standing in my favourite spot in the Group-Ex studio;  but I more regularly feel very average - or worse. If I take a trip to Walmart and use that as my barometer instead, I feel like a fucking supermodel in complete control of my well behaved children and #blessed. It's not beyond me to take a tactical shopping trip when in need of a shot of self confidence. It's happened within the last 10 days.

Just writing this makes me realize what an asshole I am, but that's my truth. That is the occasional depth of my insecurity. 

You might think - you might hope (and me too) - that I would have a unique perspective given my life experience to date. You would think that I would lead with kindness and understanding. That I could - or should - be the person who would give the benefit of the doubt and never jump to conclusions or make snap judgements. But I do. Because I while this has made me different it hasn't necessarily made me better. I'm living in the after and perspective is something that is difficult to hold on to. It's like vapour and when it surrounds you and you have the grace to notice it, there is a peace in it. Too often, however, I am moving too fast or I am not paying attention - I am distracted by the noise of the idiot driving with his blinker on or the woman in the grocery store who wants everything 'price matched' when I have a 930AM meeting - and I miss it. And it may be sometime before it presents again.

I try not to beat myself up or apply unreasonable expectations around how this 'should ' have changed me. The first time around I held up as a badge of honour the fact that it didn't change us. It happened, we weathered it and we got on with it. The second time around was different, of course, but it is feels more loaded in expectations. But whose expectations are they?

I made a parenting decision. I make good ones and bad ones. I make them based on principle and values and I sometimes make them based on fatigue and expediency. I don't indulge all requests from my daughter just because she had cancer. I do sometimes make decisions because I feel guilty about leaving my son and I fear he resents me. I make all kinds of suspect parenting decisions all day long - I don't "always" anything and the only thing I "never" do is say "never"

So, to the Pointy Toe shoe guy who rolled his eyes at me when after 4 fly-by 'asks' from Fiona as I stood in the Starbuck line I finally said "Okay, You know what baby? You can choose one colouring book - I'll be right over. Just let me get my coffee for the drive home…" I say: I get it Taken in isolation, I am an indulgent mother - and potentially a douchebag based on my coffee order, which I actually can't remember because I desperately needed that coffee and may have asked them to pour it over my head Flash Dance style. I indulged personally in an overpriced (if delicious) coffee and then told my kid yes you can have something after saying no four times.

In that moment, I can understand I may have appeared weak but I know I am stronger that he knows. I am stronger than I knew. I learned it and I keep re-learning it all the time. It doesn't make me remarkable because if you are reading this - 4 posts in - you either are, or you know, someone who is equally strong. And I likely owe it to Pointy-Toe shoe guy for making me think so much about this and remember that. 

I don't feel like a better - or worse - parent because of this experience and I want to stop thinking I should be. It unfair to expect anything more or special from ourselves as parents because we have been handed challenges. Everybody has stuff and everyone is just trying to get through the day. 

I want to be the same mediocre working parent I was before and be okay with that. And I kinda want another coffee.