I Judged Other Moms, Until My Baby Ate A Cigarette

Last updated on September 28th, 2021 at 01:57 pm

I’ll never forget the first time my precious babies were placed in my arms. I looked down at them all swaddled in white, so pure, innocent, unscathed. I held them close and swore to do anything and everything to protect their perfect little lives. I remember obsessing over breast milk and whether or not they were getting enough. Spending hours researching every ingredient in formula, and crying when I finally admitted I would need to supplement. I carefully disinfected every bottle, every pacifier, washed their blankets and sheets in baby safe detergent. I covered the shopping carts in an enormous cloth bubble of protection, bought the organic, grass-fed, cage-free baby food, and took every precaution to shelter my twins’ little bodies from the germs lurking in every corner of their world. Maybe I got a little carried away, but even when you don’t think you’ll be that mom, she comes and introduces herself the moment you meet those little eyes in the hospital and you can’t escape her from there on.

So I protected, worried, wiped down every surface, and boiled every bottle. I tried, I really did, but in lieu of a mom’s overprotective tendencies, a baby’s curiosity and natural draw towards the very thing mom is trying to keep him away from sometimes seems overpowering. And so it happened that as I looked down at my beautiful twins playing in the green grass at the park one day, I noticed something sticking out of my boy twin’s mouth. Leaning down for a closer look to see what he was chewing on, I heard the sonic boom sound of the unraveling of all the effects of my overprotective tendencies: my 9 month old son was eating a cigarette. Yes, a cigarette. My son’s perfectly protected, organic, cage-free mouth was happily chewing on a cigarette he had found in the grass.

For a split second I questioned the energy I had put into boiling all those toys and wondered if I should have been teaching my twins an early intervention “Just say no” class instead. Of all the concerns and worries I’d had for my babies, an early inclination towards tobacco had never crossed my mind. Reaching down to frantically swipe the object of my newfound disgust out of my innocent child’s mouth, I realized his mouth was full of black grinds from the stuff inside the cigarette (forgive my lack of knowledge of a cigarette’s anatomy). My little Marlboro man’s feelings were hurt when I confiscated his infant contraband. After a moment of tears, he was perfectly fine, thank goodness. (Side note: Your pediatrician and/or the poison control center should be contacted if your little one ever decides to become acquainted with a cigarette.) Thankfully I was able to remove the cigarette itself and the black grinds from his mouth, and we had no negative effects from it. My pride, however, my confidence in my role as protector was not so unaffected.

You see, I’ll be honest. I’m a bit of a control freak (if you weren’t already getting that vibe). And I’m not proud of what I’m about to admit but sometimes I…judged. I did. If the situation had been reversed and I had spotted a 9 month old baby sitting in the grass munching on a cigarette, I’d have judged that mom. Is there anyone who can honestly say they wouldn’t?

But here’s the thing about having two babies at the same time: it’s a constant reality check. A constant check to my pride. A constant reminder that I can’t do it all, I’m not perfect, and no matter how hard I try to wrap my babies in bubble wrap, some things are simply out of my control. I can’t look in two directions at once, I only have one set of arms, and man, their little legs are lightning fast. I can try and should try to protect them as much as possible. But when the limits of my motherhood are tested and revealed, I need to be patient and forgiving, and best of all, let that incident be a teaching tool for me to grow and be an even better, wiser mom.

Now I know to scour the grass at parks and playgrounds for cigarettes, dog poo, trash, etc. I realize that even when my vigilant eyes have nervously scanned the area, their even more vigilant, curious ones may find a treasure I had overlooked. I have learned that while babies are precious and pure, they’re also…gross. If I meticulously cover every single inch of a shopping cart with my pristine cloth bubble of protection, you better believe the very second I look away, my little one is going to yank that thing back and start licking the handle. If I offer my baby a perfectly sanitized teething toy with every color and sound and bell and whistle on it, he is going to prefer to crawl over to the shoe by the door and taste the array of dirt and germs on the bottom of it. Even when I lay down a clean blanket in the grass at the park for my babies to sit on, they will never be content to sit in the middle of their germ-free cloth island and play; they will test their limits, crawl to the edge, and reach for a handful of leaves and grass to nibble on.

Protecting my kids is absolutely my responsibility, and not something to take lightly. But at the end of the day, things will happen that are ultimately out of my control, and I can’t prevent everything. Those are the times I will be thankful for immune systems which constantly amaze me, for the reminder to stay humble and not judge other moms when I see their babies licking shopping cart handles. There’s not a single one of us who doesn’t want to protect her baby from harm, and that instinctive drive unites us all.

Natalie Downey is a stay at home mom to six rambunctious but lovable kids. Her two year old boy/girl twins were the surprise of her life and keep her on her toes. She gets by with lots of help from coffee and yoga and enjoys literature, spontaneous dance parties with her kids, and playing guitar.