It happens in the coffee shop, when my daughter is dangling like a noodle from my arm, trying to break free.

It can happen in the store as she tosses the toilet paper package I let her hold out of the cart and onto the floor with glee.

It’s happened in the post office when the only thing in the world my toddler wants to do is sit on the floor instead of standing in line with me.

We all share it.  We all see it.

The Look.

Before I had my daughter, I never noticed the Look moms everywhere are sharing when their kids are being less than perfect angels.  I noticed the kids, of course, and maybe (shamefully) cast a judgmental eye their way.  I never noticed the Look.  For the record, it’s a slight, sympathetic pursing of the lips, a dip of the head, an acknowledgement of having been there, we’ve all been there, I totally understand.

I can see how folks without kids in tow might not pick up on the Look.  They probably all think we’re just ignoring our kids as we look at other moms enviously as those other kids are behaving well.  We should be ashamed! people without kids might be thinking.  We should do something; we should make that noodle-dangling kid stand still in line!  But what they don’t understand is that we are often very much doing something.  It’s just not something they’re picking up on.

We are being patient parents, quietly sharing a Look with other privy patient parents that goes largely unnoticed by all other parties.  We are doing the hard work of parenting — the work that’s done in the face of raised eyebrows and pursed, judgmental lips, and looks that say, ‘make that brat behave!’  Maybe we’re breastfeeding in public, trying to keep an older kid behaving while struggling to feed the little one while feeling the heated gaze of people who disapprove.  Maybe we’re grocery shopping after a long night of wake-ups, and everyone is drained before 10AM, but we’re getting through the day just the same and saying yes to the buying those stickers when our kid asks for them.  Sure!  Yes!  These will cheer them up!  And from the outside, it looks like blatant spoiling.

Sometimes the hardest part of parenting isn’t the little person you’ve been entrusted with — it’s all the other people out there who want to grade your performance.

When I let my daughter hold the toilet paper package in the shopping cart, I know it’s probably going to get tossed overboard.  Yes, we’re working on not throwing things overboard, but in the meantime while she learns, she feels like she’s helping by holding it.  (Other things she is allowed to hold that won’t cause any harm if they make a fast dive from the cart: socks, bags of cotton balls, and pillows.)  Everyone’s got their struggles, everyone’s got their solutions, everyone’s got their secret backstories.  Everyone is human with real differences and competing priorities.

So I push the cart, occasionally picking up the package of toilet paper, and sending the empathetic Look to another mom in the aisle, who gets it.  It’s the Look that makes me remember I’m not alone, that we’re all just trying to get through the day intact.  If that means a trip to the post office involves a little sitting on the floor to make it in and out without a fuss, okay!

So the next time you catch someone giving you the stink-eye for your child not performing in the way someone thinks they should perform, look for another mom in the room.  Look for the Look that will lift you up instead of tear you down.  And if other moms aren’t there to share a secret knowing glance, remind yourself instead: raising children is crazy sometimes, and we’re all muddling through, finding our way.