HELLO FRIDAY....what a week.
Monday kicked off with a severe case of mastitis for this Mommy and an awful cold for my little nugget. My husband was traveling, I wanted to curl up in a ball and stay there....for a very long time. My daughter and I were quite a site to see on Monday; she with snot and drool running down her face and a cough that would make even the most seasoned Mommy shutter, I with a ta-ta the size of Egypt and flu like symptoms, barely able to pick her up.
I found myself at the pharmacy Monday afternoon (finally getting some antibiotics for the crisis in Egypt), snot-nosed baby on my hip and wearing what was essentially pajamas (I managed to put a coat on before I left, thank goodness). I was standing in line behind a pregnant woman when I noticed that "deer in headlights" look come across her face. In that brief glance I saw something all too familiar to me. Shock. Horror. Fright.
I remember being that woman. That Mommy-to-be who was convinced I would NEVER not allow myself to shower every day. No, not this Mommy. I would NEVER let my child be in public with things running down her face, bananas in her hair from breakfast (which in fairness I didn't see until I was standing in line with her on my hip), and in pajamas herself (which had a big brown stain from her morning vitamin on the front of them). I quickly zipped up her jacket to cover the stain, did my best to remove the (now crusty) banana from her hair and tried to muster a smile.
I remember being that woman. THAT WOMAN WHO JUDGED. My pre-baby self would often see Mommies with crazy hair, no makeup, Uggs over their plaid pajama bottoms and the "dirty" children; and I judged them. I ADMIT IT. I JUDGED. Never out loud and certainly never with ill intent, but judge away I did.
Damn you karma.
As I stood in line feeling more than slightly embarrassed I wanted to tell this woman ahead of me that I knew what she was thinking, I knew she was judging me. I wanted to tell her that I was her not so long ago and to take a good look at me now. I wanted to tell her to buckle up because the ride (although the best one she will ever go on) was going to be ROCKY
most some days. I wanted to tell her no matter how hard she tried to avoid it, no matter how loudly she was telling herself right now that she would not be like me, eventually it would happen.
I wanted to tell
myself her it didn't matter. We were in a pharmacy, picking up medicine, not in line for the red carpet at some fabulous event. I wanted to tell myself her not to judge what she hadn't yet experienced. I wanted to tell her that when she finally had that baby in her arms she has been carrying for 9 months, all she would care about is the way THAT BABY LOOKED AT HER.
In spite of how awful she was felling, my daughter mustered a smile and grabbed my cheek as if to say "You look crazy, but you're my crazy." That was all I needed to swagger up to the counter, smile at the pregnant woman (looking back for one last mental note of what she would NEVER do), and remember the pure joy I have knowing I get to spend every day like this. With my little nugget, comforting and nurturing her, being her world.
Take that Monday, take that mastitis and crazy pajama wearing, unkempt-haired woman. You're welcome karma.
I gave her a kiss on the way to the car and promised her I would get it together before she was was old enough to be embarrassed by me.....I am hoping she doesn't understand embarrassment until she's at leastLinking up again with Yeah Write! Check it out - so many great blogs!
18 13, just to be on the safe side.