What Do I Know Since I'm Not A Mom?

There was a woman who used to attend my church. She and her husband had six children. She'd brag they were like the Brady Bunch because she had three girls and three boys. Their kids were mischevious hooligans. I was co-leader of a youth group that met after church service, and I hated to see her kids coming. It was near impossible to keep order when they were in attendance. Her youngest was often placed in the nursery during Sunday service because the child was too antsy to keep still. One Sunday, it was my turn to man the nursery, and I babysat the kid. When service was over, her mother came to collect her. I don't remember the exact gist of the brief conversation, but I do know it was something about some issue she had with her kids. Before she walked away with her child, she abruptly said, "Oh, wait. You don't know. You don't have any kids."

I didn't like her tone or the attitude behind that statement. It was not the first time. The comment was not always verbalized. Sometimes it came in the form of rolled eyes, a slight sneer, raised eyebrows, or the "what kind of alien are you?" look. I seldom get that from men, but some childed women are quick to dismiss any possibility that women who don't have children know much of anything.

There is the erroneous idea that parenthood automatically grants wisdom to people. Society gives the impression that parenthood will make someone "grow up", but can we honestly say we know any pre-teens and teenagers who were magically endowed with knowledge to function as full-fledged adults when they became pregnant or got someone pregnant? Can we say that all of the adults we know who are parents are mature? Of course not.