It’s a beautiful day. Low 70s, the sun shining, barefoot children in the sand at the park, birds chirping, gentle cool breeze cutting the warmth of the sun.
Heaven on Earth.
And I’m on my phone.
There was a time that I would stay off my phone because I was afraid of how I’d look to the hyper-vigilant helicopter-parent at the park. I’d hear them thinking, “what a detached mom”, or “that mom must love her phone more than her kids”.
Neither of which are true.
I used to pretend that a thought would occur to me which necessitated being on the phone at the park. Or that I was actually just taking a picture of my kid, or some other pressing matter.
The truth is that I am able to reply to emails, market my business, and connect with friends, all while my children are entertained and happy.
The truth is, I should stop giving a crap about what people *might* be thinking.
The truth is, I was projecting what I would think (and have) of the mom on her phone at the park.
Maybe she IS dealing with a crisis. Maybe she is juggling working from home and being on her phone is the only way she is available to be around her children. Maybe she’s going through a divorce, or loss of a loved one, or financial struggles.
Maybe she’s struggling with feeling isolated and resorts to texts because she’s uncomfortable sharing face-to-face.
Or maybe she’s *just* a mom, who spends most of her day tending to the demands of motherhood and the park is the only place that she can soak in the fresh air, listening to the happy squeals of her children as they experience childhood.