I took my toddler to a museum. I was stressing about his behavior until a stranger told me what I needed to hear.

As a child, the art museum was my haven. The huge statues in the entryway, the ceiling-height paintings, and the magical modern art filled me with wonder.

When my son was born, I daydreamed about bringing him with me to experience that same awe — but as the years passed, I hesitated. He was becoming a creative, compassionate, and curious kid — but, like most kids, he could be unpredictable in new situations.

After his fourth birthday, I finally built up the courage to bring him to our local art museum’s monthly free day. The free admission lowered the stakes and the pressure; I figured the outing would succeed even if we only lasted 10 minutes.

I wasn’t expecting to hear exactly what I needed from a stranger.

I talked about the rules at a museum

On our walk from the bus stop, I prepped him as best I could, emphasizing looking, not touching, walking, not running, and holding my hand.

As we waited in line, I felt like an interloper; most of the other visitors were clearly retirees, and there wasn’t another small child in sight. I imagined that everyone was staring at us, wondering what mom in her right mind would bring a preschooler to the art museum.

“Mom!” My son yanked on my arm, his high voice breaking the hush in the atrium. “I need to pee!” After getting our tickets and finding the restrooms, I was overstimulated, overheating, and almost ready to give up. But then, I caught a glimpse of his sweet little face, looking up at a giant painting, his eyes wide. It was free, I reminded myself. You’ve already made it 10 minutes — what’s a few more? I tried to smile instead of flinch as people continued to pass us on the stairs to the main exhibit hall, my son inching more slowly than I thought was possible. At least he’s holding my hand, I thought, as he started hopping on one leg, rounding the first landing.

I got nervous when a woman approached us

After a few minutes of answering his first round of questions (“Why is that statue in a glass box? Why are the pictures hanging on the walls? Why are people looking at those signs? Why is that picture so small and that picture so big?”) we began touring the exhibit in earnest.

I restrained myself from insisting we stop at each painting and read each full placard; he was fully in the driver’s seat, hovering at certain pieces for several minutes and completely ignoring others. Instead of circling in any kind of discernible rhythm or pattern, we zig-zagged across the room. When he wanted to sit on the floor and stare at something particularly intriguing, I allowed it.

It turned out to be a pretty smooth visit to the art museum, albeit unorthodox. I was finally starting to relax a little bit when I noticed an older woman watching us.

I almost started crying

Immediately, I was second-guessing everything. She started approaching us, and I was certain she’d say something about how much space my son and I were taking up in the museum — that he was talking too loud, that I shouldn’t let him lay down on beaches or sit on the floor, that he was bumping into people’s knees. Instead, she said those words every parent wants to hear: “You’re doing a great job, Mom.”

I was so grateful that I almost cried; I could barely choke out a Thanks before the woman smiled warmly at my son and continued on her way. For the rest of our visit — which lasted a full half an hour — I kept hearing her words in my head.

She’ll never know, but her encouragement has kept me bringing my son to the art museum on a monthly basis. I’ve even expanded our range of child-friendly-but-not-child-centric adventures — and as my courage to do so has grown, so has my son’s ability to adjust his behavior in new situations.

Whenever I start to worry about what other people are thinking or feel frustrated by my son’s challenging but oh-so-typical-for-a-preschooler behavior, I remind myself, “You’re doing a good job,“ and the worries melt away.

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