It wasn’t Good.
Let me set the scene. It’s Thursday, I wake up to discover we are completely one hundred percent out of milk. I don’t really feel all that great, but I know I need to get my three children to the grocery store and get milk. There is no waiting on Phil to bring it home. So I wait until the afternoon, and get us all ready and go. I get a great parking space. We get one of those massive stupid car carts. I fight the boys the whole time we are in the store to stay in the car. Haylie has the need to touch everything. Then thinking she’s being helpful but things I’m not buying into the cart. By time I’m ready to cash out, I’m tired. Four jugs of juice. Two gallons of milk. And a pack of toilet paper. That is all I purchased.
I wheel the massive cart back to my car, and tell the boys to stay put. Then I instruct Lucas to get in the car first. Of course the four-year old doesn’t listen. He takes off running one way, Randy (age 2) the other. Thankfully, Haylie knows this drill and grabs Randy, I get Lucas. They both are put in the car. As I’m buckling Randy’s five point harness, Haylie is buckling Lucas into his booster. I’m correcting them. Now these are not exact quotes, but they are close.
“You have to listen to Mommy.”
“There are reasons Mommy tells you to do things”
“No, you don’t get your tablet, you weren’t listening.”
“You don’t want to get hurt, you have to listen to me, we are in a parking lot, there are lots of cars.”
Now if you know me in real life, you know that my voice isn’t quite in nature. There is already a ton of noise from passing cars, other shoppers and my own radio. So my voice isn’t exactly soft. But I’m not screeching. I want to point out that I know when I’m screeching, and this one not one of those times. I was yelling. I’ll admit that. But again, if you know me, or my boys, you know that is exactly what you have to do sometimes. The quite approach while nicer doesn’t work. Believe me I’ve tried. (It works with Haylie, just not the boys.)
Here is where things take a turn.
From the background I start hearing this lady rant and rave. Now I try to be aware of goings on around me because I’m a lady who three children, who could be very easily marked a target. My children could be grabbed, even I could be grabbed. I know that isn’t a fun thought, but it’s a thought that floats around in my brains. So I hear this lady, and off the bat assume she’s in a bickering match with the driver of the golden van she was in.
Boy was I wrong.
What this lady was screaming about was the fact I was yelling at babies.
And she didn’t stop until she knew she was unhappy with my parenting skills. She ranted and raved of how I was yelling at babies, that I was an awful parent, I needed CPS called on me. She even threaten me that if I was there when she came out she would be calling someone. (I told her she could because she was harassing me.)
There are two gentlemen in two different cars. One, a stranger to both of us, is telling this woman to shut up, mind her own business. The other, a stranger to me, says he was only giving, and I quote, “the idiot a ride.” I’m standing beside my car baffled at first. With the feeling of: did that just happen? And the pure panic of what is this lady going to try. I have my babies in the car. Nothing can happen to them or even to me in front of them.
By time I got in the car I was shaking. She was in the store, I was safe in my car leaving the parking lot. I call the hubby to hear him say the words I needed to hear, “she’s a idiot, don’t worry about it.” The tears came and the self doubt that I am always plagued with hit as well.
Of course, because of the day and age, I posted an open letter to her on Facebook for all my friends and family to see. Thankfully they were nothing but supportive. Ranging from anger at this stranger to nothing but love for me. ( I do have an amazing set of friends.)
But the more I think about this, and of course I over think things, the more I realize that I’m never going to be a good enough parent. I’m just not. Someone is ALWAYS going to have an opinion. Whether they keep it to there selves or shout it across a grocery store parking lot. But the fact remains I won’t ever met their standards. But I can’t care about it. Did that lady shake me? Yes, to my core. I was so upset, so shaken, angry, sad. But I wasn’t wrong. My kids shouldn’t be allowed to run around a parking lot. They shouldn’t be let off the hook to not listening. There were a million factors that I was aware of as their mother. No one is going to love my children like I do. Or know what is best for them like I do. No one is going to be the mother that I am for them. And while that lady might not like the way I parent. She doesn’t have a vote. The hubby gets a vote, and he hasn’t disagreed with me yet. So I think I”m good.
Here of late I’ve been giving unsolicited advice to new mothers, and it’s simply to go with their gut, they are the mommy, they don’t need to default to someone else unless they want to. (Because there were/are times I just want someone to tell me what to do.) And it’s time I go back and here my own advice. I am my children’s mother. I’m a good mom. They love me. I love them. I would die before letting them be harmed. And to me, that is the definition of a good mom.
Here is my last parting thought. One more lesson that this nasty woman taught me. Be kind. There is too much violence and hatred in the world. If we could all take a second to think before we acted, before we spoke, we be let the angry action fly. This world could be a touch nice. But more than being kind. Lets try to live by the example that Christ gave us. He took the most vile of things and made them for good. He healed. He prayed for people. He made things better. Lets just try to be more like our Savior and less like the devil.
Now maybe I can finally put this awful thing to bed. Let it go and move on. All I know is that I was shaken. I didn’t like it and words are how I express that feeling out.
Thank you to my friends and family that lifted me up yesterday, your kindness will not be forgotten. Your love, will be returned.
and for now,
…that is all.