Open letter to Captain Obvious

Dear Captain Obvious,

Thank you for enlightening me.  I had no idea when racing after my 21 month old down a hill while leaving my 5 month old alone in her stroller and having my 3 and 5 year old running around in a park that I have my hands full.  It was very considerate of you to point out while smiling down upon me and continuing your wonderful stroll through the park.  And it was very kind of the next three people who saw us and said the exact same thing.

What you didn't see before you turned around the bend were all of my kids behaving and asking questions about rivers, fish, frogs, and water.  You didn't see me carefully pointing out a turtle that popped up or the caterpillar walking across the bridge.  You didn't see my oldest holding hands with his brother while walking him about to help me.  You didn't see two of my boys playing tag while trying to include their younger brother.  You didn't see my 3 year old offering to push the stroller so I could put my youngest son's shoes back on his feet.

You don't see my kids standing up for one another when another kid decides to play too rough.  You never see the light shine in their eyes when I let my oldest two hold their baby sister.  You don't see my kids playing well together, happily digging dirt piles, and playing imaginary games.  You don't see the out pouring of love they give me and their dad on a daily basis by giving us hugs and kisses.

No.  You never see all the good things that happen.  You walk in on a moment of complete chaos and point out that four on one keeps my hands full.  Thank you Captain Obvious for telling me because I had no idea.

Yes, there are tears, screaming, yelling, and some organized chaos.  Yes, some days I feel as though my kids are plotting a mutiny.

But amongst all the chaos and tears (there's and mine), you don't get a true glimpse into my large loving family and life.  You don't see the sweet little moments that make the chaotic ones worth while.

So next time you feel the need to point out my hands are full while I'm running after a child who is a good 30 feet in front of me, please instead stop said child and offer a kind word or hand.  I don't need your pity or crazy looks.  A little kindness will more than likely be the high point of my day.  A kind gesture and word goes a long way in making me feel as though I'm not entirely failing as a mom.

As much as you would like to point out the obvious, I ask that you not.  I'm entirely aware of it.

Thank you.