Thursday, October 16, 2008

Yesterday I tried to get out of the house and enjoy the really beautiful weather we have been having here. The Lady and I made the Dunkies run then continued to Barnes and Noble for story time.

I am still waiting for the welcome package to arrive in the mail for my mom's group, so in the meantime I am trying to take advantage of some other options. We arrived a few minutes late to a reading of Llama, Llama, Mad at Mama, a very cute book but not really dynamic enough to hold the attention of the seven or so kids under age two. At first I kept the Lady in the stroller but she soon made herself known and I let her out. We sat on the very little bench and listened to the woman drone on about the llama. That was going pretty well until she saw the photo of the llama and made a loud raspberry sound. This is the sound she makes when you ask her "What does an elephant say?" She has now adapted it to any large zoo or wild animals. She has another sound that she uses especially for domestic animals and seagulls.

Now, I don't get bent out of shape about these things. She was interacting with the story and she made a sound she makes about fourteen times a day. What I do get bent out of shape about is how utterly humorless some of these other mothers are. I understand that nobody wants their kid to be that kid, but all the children were walking around and exploring their environment. I don't care if your kid touches mine or if, like the Lady, they try to climb up on the stage area where the kindly (and clueless) Barnes and Noble woman is reading and touch the book. Yes, I stopped her when she tried to touch another kid in the eye, but she is learning her body parts and gets excited when she sees other kids.

I mean, I know that I am not the most outgoing person when it comes to meeting people and I don't really do well with small talk and initiating conversation, but aren't we all there for the same purpose and aren't we all basically going through the same thing? Most of these kids were around the same age and that common element should be enough to at least warrant a smile out of these ladies when the Lady made the elephant sound. I mean had it not been my kid I would have thought it was funny. When did we all get so uptight about the way a one year old reacts to a story? The only people talking to each other were the nannies and that was because they knew each other and came together.

I love the Lady and I don't want her tackling smaller children in a bookstore or poking them in the eye, but I can't and I won't hold her back from exploring the things around her, even if other moms turn to me with a stone face and the stink eye.

I mean last week alone the Lady pulled all the tp off the roll, peed (twice) in the thirty seconds she was diaperless, opened a drawer and pulled out all of my colorful placemats, tried to put her pj's in the diaper genie, pantsed me twice (another reason to wear pants that button) while I was making dinner, and screamed her way through a car trip because she didn't want her shoes on. I know these things happen to other mothers, why as women can't we just have a sense of humor about it? I mean one day my kid might run naked outside wearing just snow boots, or pick their nose in public and wipe it on my face, these things happen. We should embrace the commonality of our experiences instead of trying to save face and make it seem like we have it all under control. Because, please, if you can show me one mom who hasn't had a kid melt down in public, or cry, kick and scream as you try to peel them off the playground equipment, I will post a photo of me Biggest Loser style in just my sports bra and a pair of bicycle pants.


  1. Bean, I suggest you see if this is a socio-economic phenomenon. Next time something like this happens, ask all of the adults for their household income and look for a correlation between snootiness and income.

  2. I think that is the perfect ice breaker in getting to know these cold, heartless, ill-humored women.