Target baby-hater, don’t mess with this mama

by Katie Mardigan, Richmond mom-of-three

I had an experience recently that threw me for a loop. It’s not every day this happens – as a stay at home mom to 3 young children, my days are pretty much the same. Wake up (usually way before I’m ready to), begin the mass frenzy that is our morning, take little folks to various little folks’ schools, then back home to give the baby one more feeding and nap before attempting to get some errands done before school pick ups begin. Afternoons are filled with extracurricular activities or playing animal vet/fashion show/”pretend you’re a kid coming down the stairs on Christmas day and I’m your new dog!!” before commencing the dinner/bath/bed time sequence. (And by “sequence” I mean “madness”.) It ain’t glamorous, but it’s my life and I’m cool with it.

So, on this particular day, I’m out running errands with my 3 month old and 4 year old. Anyone who has a 3 month old knows that it can take an act of congress to even get out of the house. Baby has been fed, napped, changed, fed and changed, and only then do I feel we can get out of the house with some success. On this day the sun is shining, the temperature is creeping up above 55 (yay!), I’m showered (with makeup!), 4 year old had baggie of goldfish in hand… I’m feeling pretty good about myself. At the store, I was in Efficient Mom Mode: get in, get what you need, and get out. (I’d been burned too many times by the “This Target trip has been great – let’s stay for lunch!” debacle.) All throughout the store, the kids are doing great, until we get to the check out lane when the baby starts to cry. After trying to soothe her, I can tell all she wants is to get OUT of the carseat carrier and since I can’t make that happen, I decide to just forge ahead and try to pay and leave the store asap. A couple of the ladies around me give me the customary “Poor baby” or look of pity, and I continue to try to soothe her, until all of a sudden:

Lady behind me: “Can I cut in front of you?”
Me: “I’m sorry?”
Lady: “Can I get ahead of you. I can’t stand the sound of THAT.” Points to my baby.
Me: “Excuse me?”
Mean Lady: “I don’t have little kids, I shouldn’t have to listen to that. I need to get in front of you.”
Me: “She’s just a little baby!”
Mean, crazy lady: “Yes, and she should be home, fed and in bed! I don’t need to hear this, you need to let me get in front of you.”

So this goes on for what seems like an eternity. She continues to yell and thrust her finger back and forth between me and the baby, while I manage a few stammered responses. Now, I know the crying is not pleasant for everyone around us, but I made the decision to stay in line and make my purchases because, darn it, I don’t know when I’ll be able to come back! The planets had to align perfectly just for me to get here this morning! And it’s not like my 4 year old is running around terrorizing people and I’m ignoring it, it’s a baby and babies sometimes cry.

I consider myself a strong, even-tempered person who can handle sticky situations, but apparently in reality I’m not, because I start to shake and mumble incoherently as she continues with the chastising and the pointing. Of course now, days later and in the comfort of my pj’s, I can think of a gazillion things to say to her, like “It’s hard enough to be a parent of three young children without crazy, judgmental people like you taking their anger out on me”, or “If you can’t handle 5 minutes of a baby crying, you’re the one who should be home in bed.” or “Point that knobby finger at her again and you’re gonna lose it, sister.” But no, instead of a quick comeback, my head starts spinning, and I mutter, “No you can’t get in front of me,” and I turn my back to her.

In a much needed act of human kindness the girl in front of me who watched the whole scene, turns to the lady and says, “You are being extremely rude right now.” I nod my head like, “Yeah, what she said!”, but am unable to verbalize this because I’m still shaky and stunned. Mean, crazy lady storms off in a huff, I assume to complain or put all her purchases back because she will not give her money to an establishment that allows crying babies, and by the grace of God it’s finally my turn to check out. After swiping my card and signing, while holding on to my two kids and keeping my head down because EVERYONE is staring at this point, I bolt out of there. My confidence in the toilet, I set out for the car. At the time I wanted to crawl in the nearest snow-induced pothole, but now I can laugh at this: I’m holding onto my 4 year old, who falls flat on her face on the way out the door (because I don’t already feel like a horrible mom), pushing the stroller with the crying baby, carrying a big bag full of bulky rugs and doormats and dragging A GIANT PURPLE SUITCASE because for some reason that I couldn’t think of at the moment I had decided to shop for rugs and luggage that morning! I am about to burst into tears at the shear lunacy of the scene and for mistakenly feeling good enough about my parenting skills to decide to even attempt this errand, when all of a sudden I see the young lady who was in front of me in line coming back toward me. “Are you ok?” she asks. “I can’t believe that lady treated you that way. Can I help you get to your car?” Oh my gracious, there is goodness in this world.

I realize now that luggage and rug shopping may have been a bit over-ambitious, but I should be allowed to make these little mistakes without being judged and ridiculed. We women need to stick together, especially fellow moms. (Oh, and I know Mean, Crazy Lady is a mom herself because somewhere in her tirade she told me that when her kids were little she ‘stayed home where she belonged’). We are already unnecessarily harsh judges of ourselves, we don’t need to hear it from others. Women should support one another. Or at least keep our mouths shut when we have nothing helpful to say. If it hadn’t been for that nice, young girl my faith in humanity would have really been shaken. Next time, and let’s be honest, we all know there will be a next time, I vow to actually accept her offer of help instead of insisting on dragging my chaos across the parking lot myself in a stubborn attempt to regain some dignity… but that’s another story.

Finally, as I reach my car and do a headcount to make sure no one was lost in the may-lay, I realize it’s gotten much quieter… I look down at my sweet, dimple-cheeked baby and she gives me a giant gummy grin. Of course she does, the little stinker.