reaping.

A blogworthy story. Today I took my 15 month old(tommorrow) son to Barnes and Noble to pick out a book to give him for Valentines Day. I had a book in mind so I didn't anticipate this being a long trip-just in and out. Well first of all they did not have the book I wanted. Oh well, there was a cute little Valentine's day book table, surely I could find one there. As I am looking and letting Keller look at some, I see the adorable miniature table and bench where the tots can sit and look at books. awwww, how cute I thought and removed my child from his harnessed stroller. First mistake. Not at first it didn't seem to be. We sat side by side on the bench looking at a book about puppies wrestling around on Valentine's Day-not really sure how the two go together but I'm digressing. So la la la, so fun reading a book with my dude, and out of the corner of his beautiful blue eye he spots it...Thomas the Train set in real life. He slides off the bench and runs over to the train set squealing, yelling, taking the trains out of the other little boy's hand standing at the table. Like a good mommy I am following close behind and I tell Keller politely that it is not nice to take things from other children and scooted him to the other end. What a ball he was having and the whole store had to know it because he was literally squealing and yelling at the top of his lungs. I am laughing and supervising as I look at other books, a bit nostaglic at the whole scene. 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 15 minutes later still going strong.... as well as the scent he is letting off. I look in the diaper bag and bad mommy, I forgot the diaper- I know whats the point of the bag. Well shoot, this party is over this problem has got to be remedied before all the other customers are passed out on the floor from the aroma. So I tell my son it is time to go trying to prepare him and pick him up-immediately begins to wale. I hand him the book that is supposed to be his present tommorrow morning out of desperation so I appear to be a mom who knows how to handle her 15 month old- take something away, give them something else. He throws the book out of the stoller. kicking. screaming. the looks begin. I am trying to keep my cool as we head to the register and I think well I will just hold him while I check out. Pick him up and he begins to cry louder and turn his body upside down trying to escape the prison of his mother's arms so he can return to the land of bliss with Thomas and friends. The lady in front of me is showing a face of disgust, looks at me and says,"go ahead, I feel sorry for you." ummm, ok, thanks. keller still flipping, literally, the lady perhaps trying to sympathize," he is as big as you are. Does he have a big daddy?" and the tone is hard to capture in writing but it wasn't a tone of care, concern, delight- no, more repulsed. "oh yes, his dad is 6'2'," rolls her eyes, " no wonder.well I feel sorry for you." roll her eyes again. Thanks. I mean I'm sorry, uhhhh....yeah you said that. then as I look behind me, it was a bit stepford wifeish, there is a line of 10 or more older ladies all with the same stare of disgust and unbelief that I was allowing my child to act this way- it was probably only one other but that is what it seemed at the time. How dare she let him out of the house. There should be a law against this. To add to it all, he had refried beans,apple sauce and bananas smeared over alot of his face and clothes. At that moment I had a choice to make-was I going to be embarrassed, ashamed, begin to cry or humbly realize you reap what you sow because you see I used to be those old ladies. I would be appaled at the grocery store that someone would let there child just wail and throw fits, doesn't anyone discipline? Who is in control here? How hard is it to change your kids clothes, yuck- i should have CPS on speed dial... and on and on. SO I decided to laugh, quietly repent and hug my little guy as tight as I could, stinky diaper, bean faced and all because he is the greatest delight of my life. So I am officially joining the club of not caring what other's think of me or my ability to control my circumstances and keep things tidy- because even if it looks that way, it probably is not. and I am saying goodbye to the judgemental and critical club. So heres to fits, poop, and refried beans...and having the diaper in the diaper bag- if not, it's just a big purse.