I know this. I signed up for it. On purpose and not at all because we're reckless and/or irresponsible, Chris and I had 3 kids each 13 months apart from one another. And it's only because it didn't happen in my timing that our last one will be a whopping 18 months younger than George, otherwise she'd be born right about now.
I prefer to be out and about. I'm pretty judicious about what outings I'll take the kids on. Grocery shopping? Not unless Chris is with me. To a sit down restaurant? Absolutely not, that's a disaster waiting to happen and more importantly, it's not at all fun for me. Post office? Sure, if it's a pretty quick in and out then why not. I don't allow the fact that I have 3 very dependent very small kids in carseats slow me down all that much. Because I prefer being out and about to sitting in the house. It's my preference. Having said that, I try pretty hard to keep my kids under control and even charming while we're out. If they're in rotten moods, we don't subject the world to their stinkerness. I get that kids can really suck. Mine included. So, like I said, I'm judicious about what outings, and what moods, we go out in. Point is, we go out.
Those are two very deliberate choices I've made in my life - to have children very close together, and to be out and about. And I know what it looks like. It didn't
happen to me; I
chose to have my hands full.
Also, I don't go around expecting people to be extra helpful or generous to me just because my load is super wide. I don't hate them if they don't jump to help me with a door. But if they do, well then I'm exceedingly grateful and dazzled by that person. I don't expect extra favors; but I suppose I do expect decency.
"You've got your hands full!" I hear this phrase at least once, if not 4 or 5 times (seriously), every time I go out. It gets old, but it's usually people being playful with me and so I'm cheerful back to them. But once in a while, it's got a judgmental edge that just cannot be masked. I'd like to point those guys to this essay.
Today we went to the post office after a few other errands, and I had pushed my kids' good moods a little too far. It was my own fault. Olive started annoying Lucy, and Lucy started screaming. The postal worker in the lane next to me actually covered his ears each time she screamed. I thought he was joking at first, and even looked at him with a grin. But he made it real clear that he was not joking and that Lucy's screams were exasperating to him. I thought, I hope he's never had any children or grandchildren of his own because guess what, kids scream. Anyway, it really rubbed me the wrong way and as I passed him on my way out of the post office, I looked at him and said, "You're ridiculous, you know that?" Not my proudest moment, but it felt good!
In contrast, a few minutes later we were done using the public bathroom at city hall, and we were slowly - let me stress S.L.O.W.L.Y. - making our way toward the exit. A city worker rushed to the door and held it open for that entire slow process of us getting out the door - first Olive half walking, half crawling on her sore leg, then Lucy who does everything oh so slowly, and then me and George bringing up the rear. Not only did the worker hold the door for us, but she made really pleasant chit chat: said how cute the kids were, and even asked about Olive's limp and said what a bummer that must be for her. I thanked her profusely, and hopefully showed equal amounts of appreciation for her as I did disdain for the other guy.
I don't want to be a defensive jerk about all this. I'm sure the postal worker is a good guy, and hey sometimes I want to cover my ears when kids scream. But gosh, how much happier did I feel after the pleasant exchange with the city hall worker? Let's make a deal, I'll be more careful and considerate about my kids' moods - controlling what I can - when we're in public, and you just be decent. K?
I know, I have my hands full.
