Free Fridays: The lift incident.

26 September 2025

Me: I’m never going to be one of those moms who reward their kids with money.

Also me last month: Kids, if you pray, I’ll give you 1 ringgit.

Don’t worry, before you judge me, I already judged me.

I laugh when I think of all the things we used to say before we experience mom-hood.

I used to say I’d never give my kids gadgets in a restaurant – we are going to be that nice family that talks and laughs and feeds each other noodles, and the kids will go “Why thank you, Mother, how delicious.” and dab their mouths softly with napkins.

After Idris, I’m like shoving noodles screaming at him to “sit back down or else that waiter uncle is going to scold you.” Poor waiter uncle, he had no part in this. The other day, I told Idris I’d drive him to the police station if he didn’t shower (it had been an hour of running after him around the apartment).

My first three kids scammed me because I thought all kids were obedient, like how they were. I was fooled – because then Idris came into the world, with his national anthem song entitled “Screams”. That kid has no fear. Idris has single-handedly tested my “I’ll never do this and that” theories and slap them back to my face. I’m never too ashamed now to reward/threat/give the phone so he can watch Hot Wheels (it’s Hot Wheels phase now) when I really need to for my sanity. Not the kids’ sanity. MY SANITY.

I love when we’re in waiting rooms and there are other moms around who have boisterous kids who just roam around and no matter what you do, just won’t listen. Because we actually look at each other now and smile at each other. That knowing, sympathetic, I-feel-you-girl smile. Our dark circles and unbrushed hairs becoming the rite of passage to this unspoken club we’re in together.

This was the best moment of my week recently: The lift incident.

Idris had been testing my patience all morning. It was compounded from making it difficult to shower, to brush teeth, to get dressed, to refusing to sit and have breakfast. I was about to go out that morning, so I needed to rush out.

He was throwing a tantrum because he couldn’t find his yellow digger toy (which he lost) and throwing things everywhere in the toy area. I told him (nicely) to stop throwing all these things and let’s find the digger together. He refused. I told him (not nicely) to stop throwing all these things and let’s find the digger together. He refused. I inhaled and exhaled. And then went ape as I walked myself to the lift to go out.

I was still monologue-shouting to the wall, and then the most embarrassing thing happened.

The lift door opened in front of me and a lady was in there. She looked at me, shocked at my screaming, and quickly looked away.

Oh my godddd, someone heard me shouting at my kid (and then aimlessly to myself). Nooooo. I’m the worst mom. This is so embarrassing!

I managed to drag my shamed self into the lift, slowly, head down.

It felt like an hour for the lift door to close, trapping both of us in the lift together.

Silence.

I decided to break the silence.

What’s the worst that can happen anyway. She already thinks I’m a screaming bully of a woman.

I opened my mouth.

And the words that came out were, “Got kids?”

She looked at me with a tired face and replied with a sigh. “I’ve got two.”

I replied her back with another sigh. “I’ve got four.”

We both looked at each other, shoulders slumped and exchanged sympathetic smiles.

And that was it – unspoken Mom club membership.

We didn’t have to say another word, but that small exchange was enough for me to feel a “we’ve all been there” pat on the back. Two ladies in the lift, two moms sighing out of exhaustion and smiling at each other through the motherhood chaos. I didn’t know her name but just like that, it felt like we were “teammates”.

So yeah, the next time a mom is having a bad day, smile at her so she can feel less horrible, please.

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Before you go…

Let me know you’ve read this. Comment “no judgments!” on my latest post at @sincerelyvivy.

See you there! :)