Momma Bear

The closest I get to gambling is taking not just one, but TWO little people to the grocery store with me. This may as well be my equivalent to sitting at the Texas hold em’ table where the buy-in is one million dollars.  No matter whether I “win” or “lose” my nerves are shot and my ‘poker face’ is wearing thin. As soon as those automatic sliding glass doors open I think to myself, well “I’m all in”.  My opponents (Jake and Jimmy) hold their cards real close to their chest and never really let me know what their next “play” is going to be.  This not only requires me to have a list of the items I need, but to get these items in as quick of time as possible!

Now most of the time both boys are really good, and I make it in an out of the store with everything on my list and my sanity still intact. However on THIS particular day I saw my opponent’s cards well before the game ever started. And I still dared to ‘play.’

 My little Jimmy was sick this weekend, Friday he was cutting two molars and quite fussy, that escalated to non-stop screaming by Saturday. I knew something wasn’t right so I took him to prompt care where the receptionist told me it was over a 45 minute wait. Not awesome, but nothing I could do about it. We were there for an hour and a half when we finally saw the doctor, by this time Jimmy had cried for so long that he was soundly sleeping one me.  Doctor looked at him and told me that Jimmy had a double ear infection and possibly a sinus infection. My poor little man was miserable.

We headed back home and while waiting on the prescription to get filled I wanted to make a VERY quick trip to the grocery store. I knew he was sick and I knew he was tired, but he also had a big brother at home who I promised to make cookies with all weekend, but had to keep pushing that off to take care of my sick baby. Because I am at work for long hours during the week, I try to make as much time at home with my boys as possible on the weekends. I also don’t like to make a promise that I can’t keep.

So Jimmy and I headed into the grocery store, I had my list of six items and I was going to be in and out! As I raced up and down the few isles Jimmy continued to get more and more fussy. Finally I made it to the last isle, I got the cottage cheese, which I thought he may actually eat. (He didn’t want any food, but my boy love cottage cheese, so it was worth a try). I guess I couldn’t have been more wrong. Just as I put the cottage cheese in the cart and started to get out of the store, Jimmy picked up the container of cottage cheese and threw it to the ground with crazy baby strength! Now whether this is right or wrong, I wasn’t even mad, he was sick, and exhausted, and it quite a bit of pain.  He really had no business being in the store but I was trying to make sure that I didn’t break my promise to the other love of my life. I thought I could fit it all in, after all we were just going to be waiting in the pharmacy parking lot if we didn’t go to the store.

So as I bend down to pick up the container and move it to the side of the isle, so I can then go find a grocery clerk, a hateful woman, about twice my age pushes her cart so it almost hits mine. She looks at Jimmy in utter disgust and spats to me; “He is old enough to be told NO, his behavior is completely intolerable!”

I had phrases rush into my mind that were beyond inappropriate. I am pretty easy going; I let a lot of stuff role off my back, but DON’T MESS WITH MY BABY! I instantly felt the rage of a mama bear. I wanted to tear her down and make her feel like the piece of garbage I thought she was. I wanted to explain to her that she hadn’t been up for close to 28 hours straight with a screaming baby who can’t be consoled. Who has an eager little boy waiting for the making of the cookies, which I am here to get. She didn’t have to see the disappointment in his face each time I had to say “no, not right now buddy.” I wanted to tell her, I am doing everything I can, not to lose my mind, and cry because sometimes keeping it all together and keeping everyone happy is a lot!

But I don’t say anything; instead I just look her dead in the eyes as she spats her nasty words to humiliate me. She waits for me to look away in shame but I am not shamed by my sick baby being so beside himself he doesn’t know what to do but throw something. So like two little kids on the playground we had a stare-off. I may not say everything on my mind, because that will just bring me to her level. But I will stand there proudly by my baby who is still screaming and stare at you, I will wait for her to look away, for her to pass me. I didn’t look back, she didn’t warrant any more of my time, I told the grocery store clerk what had happened and he was more the nice about it. And we left.

I got Jimmy’s medicine and within an hour he was sleeping, he slept for 14 hours that night. My baby was on the mend.  I later kept my promise of making cookies with my Jake, and through my exhaustion his enthusiasm and smile made it so worth it.

As I lay in bed that night I still couldn’t get that woman out of my mind, I couldn’t drop it.  People have said mean or hurtful things to me and while I don’t like it, it doesn’t sting as much as when someone says something hurtful about your child or parenting. That is an all-encompassing feeling that is all too powerful. 

To only make myself feel better I tried to think, that poor lady. She never got to console and sick infant, to have them so desperately cling to you, cause no one else in the world can make them feel better then you can. She never sang to a sick infant through the night, any song that she could possibly think of, because when she’d stop singing the baby would cry again.  She never got to witness the smile of a little boy so proud of himself for creating something.  She never felt the hug of that little boy who was essentially thanking her for her time spent with him. She never felt so emotionally exhausted trying to make sure everyone else was happy that she often times forgot about herself.

Whether this is true or not that is what I went to bed thinking.  Because as tiring and challenging and demanding as these little people are their happiness is my happiness.  And I will go to bed every night being proud of them, whether tantrums ensued or not. I am honored to proudly push this sick baby through the store, he is mine and I will always go to bat for them. Don’t Mess With a Mama Bear!