Lead With Love

I boarded the plane to Houston and walked to the very back of the plane.  When I could see my row, I saw a young mother and her son, he was maybe 7 months old, I’m not sure, I’ve never been good at guessing the ages of children.  My first thought was, “…you’ve got to be kidding me…”.  He was a darling little baby, but he had a very loud voice.  Very loud.  And he was screaming, off and on, and clearly not happy. I remembered immediately that the airline had taken my carryon (stop overselling flights, ya dirty bastards), and my noise cancelling headphones were in my carryon.  Oh dear… I took my seat and braced myself for a very long flight.

Looking closer at this woman, I could see she was exhausted, and her baby was as well.  She was frazzled and my nerves were beginning to fray as well.  I asked her, how can I help you? We had a language barrier, but the language of motherhood is universal.  She just looked at me, surprised that I wanted to help her.  She told me they’d flown all night from Hong Kong, and she hadn’t slept at all.  Hong Kong to San Francisco is 12 hours.  Oh, my darling girl.

If you’ve ever been "the mother" on the plane with a screaming baby, it is a new kind of hell.  It will make a gal sweat, for sure.  So I tucked my neck pillow under her arms, and her jacket too, and the two of them dozed off.  They slept.  About an hour later, he was screaming again.  She was tearing up and I offered to hold him, to give her arms a rest.  Again she looked at me, stunned.  I thought perhaps I had crossed a line into stranger danger territory.  But she quietly started to cry, and then she nodded and handed him over to me, a look of complete defeat on her face.  So I took her little one in my arms and he quickly fell back to sleep.  She collapsed back into her chair, put her jacket over her head, and she slept too.

I have been the woman on the plane with a crying baby.  I remember how I felt.  So completely alone and like a spotlight (more like a heat lamp) was shining down on me.  As I was holding him and rocking him, I thought back to my own boys and to when they were babies, and I began to tear up myself.  The time when they are young goes by in a flash.  Here I had just been texting my future pilot son before take off, when it seemed like just mere moments ago he was snuggled in my arms.  So I enjoyed that moment, holding her little son and letting her sleep, for as long as she wanted, or could.

She told me later that she was heading home from Hong Kong after visiting her family.  They stopped in San Francisco, then Houston, then on to Birmingham, which is home.  Toward the end of the flight, I was recording videos for my son, and she said, "...you are a good Mommy", and I replied, "...so are you, honey". She could not have known how touched I was by that comment. I stayed behind and helped her gather her things, and others did too, offering to pull her luggage from above. It was wonderful to see others jumping in to help. Those two sweethearts hit me right in my Mama Bear heart today, just out of the blue.  I am grateful for that loud little baby boy.  His adorable smile reminded me of my own babies, and how proud I am of who they’ve become.   

I believe this is how we change the world, if ever so slightly.  One mother, helping another mother, simply get an hour of sleep, or holding her baby so she can rest her tired arms.  The me from years ago would not have reacted as kindly, I am certain.  I am grateful for my personal growth, because I can be of service today, rather than just frustrated and critical, only making her journey more difficult.

It’s hard. Motherhood is hard.  If anyone tells you different, they are lying.  So be the change.  Help her if she is struggling.  Try.  I assure you, you will change her day, you will lower her stress, and it will matter to her.  It will give her strength to keep going.  It will, most likely, change your day too.

Lead with love.  This is how we change the world, one screaming baby, and one exhausted mother, at a time.  Be kind.

(This one is for my sister, Trisha Michelle. She was a top-shelf Mom and Grandma, and I admired her very much. And I miss her terribly).