Do you ever feel that you get more respect now than you did before becoming a parent? Not from your own kids, mind you, but from those whom you're not parenting.
Consider this: On a warm spring afternoon a few weeks ago, I'm sitting outside watching a bunch of kids, including my own, zip around our cul-de-sac on their scooters and bikes and tricycles. A vehicle, occupied by four or five young men in their late teens, pulls into the visitor parking lot and sits idling, probably waiting for one of our teenage neighbors.
Something on the back windshield suddenly catches my eye – someone has written a phrase in the thick yellow tree pollen coating the glass. I can't repeat this phrase here, but suffice it to say that it describes a bizarre sexual act, one that sounds uncomfortable at best.
So while I'm gaping at this car, one of my son's eight-year-old friends whips around the corner, screeches to a stop, takes a gander at the windshield, and says "Whoa!" Then he starts cackling. My oldest son pedals up next to him, and he too stares at the car. For him, at least, the words don't seem to compute. But when his friend starts explaining the phrase to him, I decide to take action.
Hauling myself out of my lawn chair, I approach the idling vehicle, then tap gently on the passenger side window. Four or five startled faces jerk my way.
Now twenty years ago, this confrontation would have intimidated me, as the dudes would have either insulted me, threatened me - or asked me to join them. Of course, twenty years ago, these guys were neonates, and today, in 2010, the poor dears simply look terrified.
"Hi!" I chirp cheerfully, while gesturing towards the back windshield, "I think your car just taught some eight-year-olds some new words!"
"Oh," the driver says, somewhat confused, then looks back at the windshield. "Oh!" he adds.
"Someone did that in the school parking lot," a second guy says, adding "We're sorry about that." (Sort of an R-rated "Wash Me," I guess).
A third guy scampers out of the vehicle, tosses the remains of his drink (soda, let's assume) on the offending phrase, then wipes the windshield down with his shirt. "Sorry about that, ma'am." Oof!
Wow, they are so sweet! But this actually isn't atypical - I seem to get the royal treatment a lot, especially when my parenting role is obvious. It still feels weird though, because for so many years, I had grown accustomed to others (especially men) talking down to me, joking around (me to restaurant host: 'Excuse me, where's the bathroom?' Host: 'We don't have one! HA HA HA HA HA!'), tooting at me, or just trampling on me. (The fact that I looked about 15 until I reached my late twenties probably didn't help).
Now everyone takes me so seriously, and it's ma'am this and ma'am that all day and night. What's going on?
Of course, getting older has something to do with it too - probably a bit of Boy-Scout-helping-old-lady-cross-street phenomenon at play. But it started when I became noticeably pregnant for the first time, and it's pretty much maintained ever since, increasing somewhat when the kids are directly attached.
Do I deserve all of this extra respect, simply because I procreated? (No, but I'm not complaining). I guess the real question is: why didn't people treat me this way all along? Why did it take childbirth to get some respect? Do women of my same vintage but without children in tow (or the trappings, like a minivan with carseats, or mom jeans) experience the same level of solicitousness?
Of course, you could attribute some of this to the way I treated them. Twenty years ago, my wash-the-cuss-words-off-your-damn-car-fool request would have likely emerged from my mouth in either overly tentative or overly bitchy fashion. It's that elusive middle ground that took thirty-plus years to hone.
"Thanks guys!" I say, waving as my new friends hurriedly back out and drive away. Thankfully, my son and the other kid have completely forgotten the pollen-etched obscenity and are now racing around the circle. I flop back down in my nice comfy chair, ready for the next challenge that arises (like explaining what such a phrase actually means).
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