Friday, August 10, 2018

Today, motherhood made me cry.

Today motherhood made me cry, and it wasn’t for a reason I was expecting. I didn’t cry because my kid wasn’t listening or was being mean or embarrassed me in public, although all of those things did happen.

We walked to get groceries with the double stroller. Since becoming a mom, I have given myself permission to abandon ship at the grocery store if necessary. That would entail leaving a cart of groceries behind and going home empty handed, but likely with arms full of an emotional child. Of course, I would feel terribly bad about creating more work for someone to do, but for some reason, giving myself permission to have that as an out has gotten me through challenging grocery shopping trips. So far, I have never had to abandon ship, but today was the closest I have ever come.

I was at the register, unloading the groceries when Everett started screaming, because we weren’t at the register he wanted to be at (or more likely, because he was tired or hungry).

He fell on the ground, crying and blocking people from passing through to the exit. There was nothing I could do to stop him at the moment. I almost just scooped up my children and abandoned ship, but there was no cart of groceries to leave behind, because the nice woman with plenty of pity in her eyes was already in the process of ringing them up.

I asked Everett to stand up so that people could walk to the exit, and then he ran from me and hid. I saw where he went, but I couldn’t actually see him as I was trying to finish buying my groceries, which made me feel uneasy, so I was ready to just ditch the whole scene and head home. Just as I was ready to depart, another mom with two young kids was finishing up, and she witnessed my struggle. She walked out the store exit and right back into the entrance, heading straight to my hiding kid, and she struck up a conversation with him. She entertained him until I finished paying and loading up my groceries. Tears were forming in my eyes as I approached her, and all I could muster was a choked up, “thank you so much,” even though I wanted to gush about so much more.

On the way home, I couldn’t help but let the tears fall, yes, because I was frustrated with my son, but mostly because another mama saw me and saved me.

Moral of the story: Kindness matters.

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