The Mom-Voice

Today, I was changing in the locker room after swimming when a Mom walked in with her 5-year-old daughter.  They were hurrying to swim class and were a little late.  The girl knew her right from her left.  She was also a vegetarian, and was wearing a new pair of goggles that they had bought on sale.  How did I know all this, having never met them before or even directly interacted with them?  The lady was using her Mom-Voice.

The Mom-Voice is a very clear, slightly too-loud, authoritative tone used while shepherding young children in public.  I know that I use it practically every day.  It's used to ward off bad behavior by projecting authority to the youngsters.  It's used to indirectly convey to strangers that I am a Good Mommy.  It's used to project to others that I am aware of my children being too loud, or rude, or throwing food and that I am dealing with it.  It can be, depending on the circumstances, slightly abashed, or overly boastful, or breathlessly apologetic.

"Honey, here, put your right foot through your pants...no, your right, your RIGHT.  Heh heh, of course you know your right from your left."
Translation: My child is smart.  (S)he knows right from left, and the alphabet, and numbers.  I am doing my job, dammit.

"Sweetheart, no, we cannot get the chocolate cookies.  We always have something healthy for a snack.  LIKE CARROTS."
Translation: My child is healthy.  I don't feed my kids crap.  I am doing my job, dammit.

"Darling, please say excuse me.  Be respectful.  IT IS IMPORTANT TO BE RESPECTFUL."
Translation: I am sorry.  I am raising a respectful child.  I am doing my job, dammit.

"Baby, I know you are tired, you are doing very well considering it is almost NAP TIME".
Translation: Please don't give me that look.  I had to run this errand.  My child is usually so well-behaved.  I am doing my job, dammit.

When I am using my Mom-Voice, I am usually mostly unaware of it.  I think in the subtext, the hidden meanings, the explanations, meant for strangers.  While I am talking to the Little Badgers, looking at them, I am saying things not for their benefit alone.  The kids already know the score.  They know I'm full of it when I claim to only feed them carrots for a snack; they're holding out for a cracker in the car on the way home.  They know their right from their left; they just are too busy fooling around to help me get their pants on.  The impact of the Mom-Voice really hit home this morning, when I was one of the strangers.  I sensed the subtle plea for approval, the seeking of common understanding.  Maybe I should say I recognized it.

In the world outside of raising children, there are tangible ways to demonstrate one's measure.  Articles published, a nice suit, a diploma, a fancy office, awards, a promotion.  Raising children can really only be measured in the ultimate outcome: the child.  And, of course, children are children.  They have good days, and hours, and bad ones.  They can be taught perfectly, fed perfectly, and still pick their nose.  I, as a parent, know that.  I know I'm doing a good job parenting, why should I care about the expectations or impressions of total strangers?  And yet, still, I enjoy the approval of strangers and fret over looks of disappointment.  I suppose the Mom-Voice is an advertisement, a commercial of sorts, getting the word out that I am trying, that I do the legwork, that I am on top of things, perhaps despite appearances.  It is like a play, for the benefit of an audience.  In the immortal words of the Bard: "the play's the thing, wherein we'll catch the conscience of the king".  Perhaps we're relying on our reading of the lines to convince others of our parenting ability.

As the other Mom left the locker room this morning with her daughter in tow, I smiled at her.  I don't know if it helped, or if she even really noticed, but I wanted to let her know that I understood how hard she works, and the effort she puts it to raise her little girl.  Truly, we shouldn't need the Mom-Voice to judge good from indifference.  Just observing the way the little girl looked up at her Momma, the way she held her hand, should tell us enough.