I talked quite a bit about how disheartening it was to get the looks and hear the things said just after Baby was born. It bothered me a great deal and in response to my frequent critics I was hard on the kids in public to get them contained, make them act like little adults.
I haven’t talked about it in a while. It’s certainly not because we haven’t had comments, it’s just that the post-partum paranoia fog has lifted and I’ve generally found my sense of humor again.
There was the time in Vino’s when we were eating with a friend and his 2 daughters. We had been sitting on the patio out back and in order to leave we had to walk through the narrow aisle ways all the way through the restaurant single file. As we came through the doors into the dining area I noticed that we were creating a scene. Think: parade. The responses of everyone in that little area were blatant. They stopped eating and were staring. Mostly smiling, but staring nonetheless. I usually duck my head and shuffle through as quickly as possible. But it was so apparent that we were the main scene that I turned, smiled, and said loudly in my best Penguins of Madagascar voice, “Smile and wave, kids, smile and wave.”
There was that time on vacation that we impulsively stopped at a fancy mall just to check it out. We drove around trying to find a non-valet parking entrance and saw 2 Porches. At a mall. It should’ve been a sign. But we ignored them and waltzed our tired, vacation stained bodies right into Neiman Marcus. Past the gun totin’ security officers standing by the jewelry. As we clopped through the aisles where there were little girl raincoats listed at a smooth $800 one of the women working there smiled, chuckled and said in her “oh, look there are peasants in the palace” voice, “Oh, how cute. Look at all their little clogs.” Lady, they’re Crocs, off-brand, mismatching ones at that. And, no we didn’t touch anything. I promise.
Also on vacation on the way home. Taking a breather from the 6 hour screaming and crying fest of the 2 youngest we stopped at a Dairy Queen playland in the middle of nowhere rural Texas. Right at gettin’ out of church time where I’m certain they all went to the same church. We ordered the cheapest deal they had on their menu. Times 6. We didn’t know the drinks included would be super-sized. So, as Matt was walking out the door to the playland with 6 super-sized sodas the man that held the door for him quipped, “You really think they need all that caffeine?” Matt snapped back, “It’s Sprite.” I wanted to say, but obviously didn’t… We’re crazy. But not stupid, dude. And what’s it to you? I’m the one that’s gotta load up in that van for another few hours.
Oh, there was that one time at the little local grocery store down the road when the guy said to Matt and me,”Y’all really need to get a hobby.” I smiled and said, “We have one! And we like it!” He said back, “I see that.” He smiled and said, “We only have 2, but I bet it’s fun with all them.” Yep, mister, it is.
And so, last night while we were eating with a different couple of friends who have 3 very small children of their own (“Table for 12, please”) and toward the end when the 16 month old no longer wanted to be in his high chair, or my arms or anywhere else for that matter and Brooke’s two little just potty-traineders were loudly begging again to go potty and dinner had turned into a wrestling match I looked over at the young couple sitting in their little comfy booth with their one tiny newborn. The father looked at us as though we were the Griswold’s cousin’s family (oh, you know the ones) and said sharply and disdainfully to his young wife, “I’m telling you, never. Never. Will that be us.”
At the restaurant last night – our 5 plus our friends’ three.
And instead of being ashamed I had a completely different response. I was saddened. For him. And especially his young wife. And his tiny little girl. Because I knew he would never. Never, mind you, know the joy of knowing each of those faces up there. He would never.never. be able to see them as different little people with individual personalities. I knew he would never. never. know the joy they can bring.
He would never.Never. get to experience ice cream dancing to Toby Mac.
