Happy season of small children refusing coats in cold weather to all who celebrate!

In the six years I have been a Mom, I have been fortunate enough to not really have any situations where a person is openly rude or mean to me when I am with my children.

Sure, countless individuals have seen me out in public and said, “Boy, do you have your hands full!” Or, “You have THREE? I don’t know how you do it.” And, on occasion, “Why would you do that to yourself?” That one is kinda rude.

Anyway, on to how I was shamed in the super market.

The other day, I picked up Lucy from school and decided a grocery store stop would be good before heading home. We needed a few things and we needed an indoor activity because it was cold out.

We parked and I opened the door to find Peter passed out. Great. 

The big two unbuckled and I worked out waking Peter.

Screams echoed through the cold air. 

“Put your coats on! It’s cold out,” I said to the big two.

“NO! We won’t be cold, we won’t be cold. We promise!” The big two shouted at me.

“NO COAT! NO COAT!” Peter protested as well. They all had long sleeves, two of them had sweatshirts on. Whatever, we’re just running into the store.

As Peter screamed and kicked me, a brief (and wise) thought flashed in my mind, maybe I shouldn’t do this. Maybe this is a sign to just go home. 

NAH. 

We needed bananas, apples, milk, etc. Peter had been begging for bananas all day. We, mostly I, also needed cream. I couldn’t have my coffee the next day sans cream. I knew I had to venture forth.

I picked up my screaming Peter and tried to sit him in the cart. No luck.

I held him in my arms while pushing the cart, the big two held either side. 

We ran across the parking lot.

We entered the store and turned right into the produce section. I approached the apples, Peter wailed. I held him on my hip as I grabbed a plastic bag and began filling it with apples. 

The big two stood by the cart laughing and pushing each other around.

“Okay, Peter. I know. I’m sorry.” I consoled Peter best I could as I gathered the apples.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an older woman march up to Lucy and Zachary. 

“HEY, GUYS!” She shouted. I smirked. I figured she was going to admire how cute they were.

But that wasn’t it. 

The next words out of her mouth were, “IS SANTA GONNA GET YA SOME COATS FOR CHRISTMAS?!”

She gave them a thumbs up and walked off. She never made eye contact with me, only spoke to them. I stood there with my screaming toddler in my arms, my big two stared, they didn’t understand why a stranger essentially shouted at them. 

I felt hurt, embarrassed, let down that someone was so rude to my children, to me, for no reason. I felt like a bad Mom. And I know I am not. I know in my heart what I do for my children every day. I know how hard I try to protect them and I give pretty much every ounce of myself to them daily. That’s the power of words. They can tear you down even when you are certain of who you are and what you do. Words can bring you down like that. 

And I tend to exaggerate, but I’m not exaggerating. Her tone, her body language, she was being straight up mean. This wasn’t in jest. And as much as it hurt my self-esteem, it hurt my heart that somebody felt the need to go out of their way to teach me a lesson. I don’t even know the point of it. I guess she just wanted to make herself feel better by putting someone else down. 

Here I am, with three small children, one of whom is a screaming mess, and she thought, “let me go up to these children and embarrass their mother.”

She doesn’t know us, she doesn’t know our situation. She didn’t know what kind of day we were having or the reasoning behind why I didn’t throw their coats on to run into the store. The coats would have come off as soon as we stepped in there anyway. It was a battle not worth fighting. 

I always try to believe that people are mostly good. She let me down. She hurt me and in hindsight I wish I could have said something to her to hurt her back. It’s mean of me, but I wanted her to feel the shame that she made me feel. But what’s the point in that? Let her sit with how she treats people. She’s not my problem, she is her own problem. I’ll keep being kind. 

I continued to console Peter and grabbed a few extra things while I held back tears. I’m ashamed that some idiot stranger made me feel so bad about myself, but she did. 

I didn’t get everything I needed. I ran to self checkout and called it a day. 

So, in the spirit of the season, be kind to each other, please. Be kind to every person, whether they’re in the store alone or have a gaggle of children with them. We are all carrying things, figuratively and literally (crying babies sometimes). And the last thing we need is a fellow human being rude.

Kindness doesn’t seem to be too popular, especially in our own country these days, but it really is worth it. 

Thanks to all those who continue to spread kindness, and to those who don’t think it’s important, I hope you find it.