we were at starbucks at the beginning of the week charging all of our things, cell phones, computers. without power, starbucks becomes an even more valued commodity. coffee, power, a place that feels a bit like normalcy, like home.
all four of us went. we knew we would be there for a while so we brought lots of books and got special drinks for everyone. the kids did okay for a little bit, but when the sugar kicked in they started to go wild. matt and i had our hands very full to try to keep them quiet and calm and obedient! we couldn't just leave because we still had things charging. we were stuck with trying to keep them there, causing the least amount of destruction.
there was an older woman sitting next to us with her coffee and newspaper. every once in a while we would catch eyes...i felt so bad that she had chosen to sit next to us. we were so loud and distracting. at one point both kids took off together, running and laughing. matt jumped up to chase them and she looked at me, and held my gaze. and then in a very slow, purposeful tone she said, 'these are THE BEST days of your life. the very best days.'
it's not the first time an older woman has said that to me in public. usually as i'm passing with the kids the woman will make some comment like that and i'll think...'yeah, you haven't seen what my life has looked like today!' but this woman, in starbucks on monday, she had seen what the last few minutes had looked like for me. she had been witness to the mayhem and still chose to say what she did. she had seen them run and wiggle. scream and fight me. and i think she had the foresight to know i probably wouldn't believe her. it was something about her tone, her look as she said it to me. she most likely knew i was longing to just sit still and enjoy my cup of coffee, resenting the situation. so she chose to impart her wisdom to me at that time, trying her best to get me to understand what she already knew.
at that moment, and most days, i don't feel like this phase of child rearing are the best days... to be honest, i long for the house to be quiet, to stay clean. but on monday, i was in the right spot, she spoke the right words....for whatever reason i did take it, and chose to believe her. i've heard her voice in my head, seen the look in her eye ever since. especially when things get trying.
on our way out of church on wednesday night it hit me again. the high school students had gotten out the same time as our class. we walked outside and there was a young man, rough looking, holding a skateboard. he walked between isaiah and i. isaiah took the opportunity to run down the ramp instead of walk down the stairs with me. i panicked that i didn't have his hand. it was dark and crowded with people. my mind went to the mother of that young man...she was probably at home, knowing nothing of what he was doing, having no control of his surroundings. i stood at the bottom the stairs waiting for isaiah, holding my hand out for him to take when he arrived. i wondered if he would take it, or if it would be the day he decided he didn't want to hold hands with his mom anymore...i was overwhelmed with thankfulness that in fact, he did.
i know a day will come when i won't have that. and so for today, i'm thankful. thankful for the mess, for being tired...thankful for reading books for 100th time, making lunch and arguing about them eathing it. i'm thankful they want my attention and beg for me to watch them go down the slide just one more time.
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I was just at the park with my 3 year old nephew and his 'girlfriend' last week when it occurred to me that I do miss those days a little bit.
They weren't that long ago, and of course, I remember they were hard, but I had a great time borrowing some little people that begged to be caught on the slide and giggled when I played 'monster' with them.
(My kids? They would have rolled their eyes, I'm sure. ;D)
I hope someday I'll be wise like that woman, and give someone a little encouragement when they need it.
tear.
OK, I think I should share a guiding moment that comes from a story about my grandmother.
She was at mass (I come from a catholic fam). There was a young mom with a wiley toddler. the mom was doing her best to keep her child quiet and trying to worship the LORD, but it was difficult amidst the darting glares coming from so many women in the church (remember that acoustics are REALLY good in most catholic churches). After many many many minutes of it and now with a crying child, she caught the eye of my grandmother and softly apologized. My grandmother, like the lady in Starbucks, warmly smiled at her and calmly said 'just be thankful he can, dear. be thankful he can.'
My grandmother, 'Pattycake' was the mother of 11 children.
That story has always prompted eventual compassion in me when i am somewhere and a child is acting like a child....I just hear Pattycake's words, 'be thankful he can, dear, be thankful he can.' I am reminded to offer love and support to the one who is trying their best to love and support their most precious gift...their children. The other women offered shame and guilt (in church, no less) and Pattycake offered gratitude and empathy.
Parenting is already filled with such intensity (or so it seems). it's cool when onlookers are kind and realistic to the ones who are actually doing the hard work.
I'm really glad that starbucks lady took the opportunity...
and I'm glad you heard it.
:)
Thanks for sharing this story. I will try to remember it when Ella has me up for a late night feed or when I return to sooth for the 10th time during a nap.
Tara
I love this post.
beautiful. God bless that starbucks lady/angel.
i am learning so much about motherhood by reading your blog. it's funny how the lord can speak to us through total strangers. thank you for sharing your thoughts and life. they are an encouragement to me.
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