The "Mean Mom" Nudge: On Red Pears, Lost Teeth, and the Performance of Motherhood
- 7 hours ago
- 3 min read
Three weeks ago, I forgot the ballet slippers.
My 4-year-old, Kerstin, had a total meltdown. Full-on, silent sobs on a park bench. Lip trembling. Refusal written all over her face. My instinct was to be "The Boss," but my heart whispered not today. So we sat. We held space. We skipped class and went home.
It felt like a "Wild Mama" victory. I was the Soft, Present Mother of the Year.
Fast forward one week. I was prepared. I had the slippers. I was the Organized Mom. But we were one minute late. One minute. The class was already in their stretch circle. Kerstin wouldn't budge. She froze at the door, paralyzed by the lateness. I felt the heat of a dozen "judgmental" eyes (mostly in my own head).
So, I forced her. I physically nudged her through the door.
I walked away feeling heavy. I’d traded her comfort for the approval of a stranger in a hallway. I felt like a failure. I almost quit ballet forever.
Then came last week.
I decided to try one more time. Not because I’m a saint, but because I’m stubborn. We got there early, mostly by accident. And for the first time, it wasn't a fight. It was magic. Kerstin spent the hour dancing, occasionally running to the sidelines to take a giant, crunchy bite of a red pear.
When the teacher forgot the end-of-class stickers, I found a random sheet of hearts in my car. I have no idea how they got there. But because I wasn't mid-meltdown, I grabbed them. Kerstin stepped right up and started passing them out to the other kids. She wasn't just participating; she was leading with love.
Yesterday, we were 5 minutes early. I rubbed my fingertips together as I held her hand to help soak in the fleeting moment. She was giddy—distracted by the fact that she’d just lost her first tooth (way earlier than her brothers!) and excited to turn 5 later this month.
Minutes into class, the teacher said to her: "I like what you're saying, but let's talk about it later." I watched Kerstin's whole spirit withdraw. Then she danced, and she came back out again. That is the essence of life—the ebb and flow. The only real "fail" is when we stop listening to our own bodies—when we stay "braced" for the performance instead of sinking into the reality.
I’m learning that the right systems don’t just manage our schedules; they protect our peace so we can actually notice the "red pear" moments (and the accidental stickers) when they show up.
The 1-Minute Reset
If you’re spiraling today or just simply need a reset, try this TAP method. It’s a practice I share in Chapter 1 of my book, Wild Mama Rising, designed to pull us out of the "braced" position and back into our bodies:
Touch: Gently rub your fingertips together. Feel the ridges.
Absorb: Take a deep breath. What does the air actually smell like?
Perceive: Close and open your eyes. Look around you with "fresh eyes."
When we use tools like TAP to find our center, we finally have the headspace to look at the bigger picture. We stop just reacting to the chaos and start choosing our direction.
No matter what kind of week you are having—whether you are the "Organized Mom" or the "Mean Mom" today—remember that the magic is in the listening. Not to the teacher, not to the strangers in the hallway, but to the "red pear" moments waiting for you to notice them.
Much Love and Joy,
Jennica
PS—The "Red Pear" moments shouldn't be an accident. I’m currently building a way for us to design our lives around peace instead of performance. To get my weekly-ish notes on building your own Freedom Architecture and staying "whole" in the chaos, join my circle.
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