Friday, March 24, 2017

I never would’ve noticed the man behind us in line. I was loading $175 of groceries onto the belt, juggling a hungry, tired baby, and sorting through coupons all at the same time. The man held only a ten dollar bill and a bunch of bananas. He was shabbily clothed, slow moving, soft spoken. The people behind him in line had insisted that he move in front of them due to his small purchase, and I felt instantly guilty that we had already started our large transaction when I noticed him. I went back to my business, dropping the baby snacks I had opened in desperation and the coupons I had clipped way too many of. My daughter decided she didn’t want to cooperate with my plan and bent over my shoulder, flashing the man a wide toothless smile and staring at him relentlessly until he acknowledged her existence. She waved both of her hands wildly at him and broke out in a chorus of baby babble. That flash of “ohmygosh my kid is probably annoying this poor man who already has to wait for our huge purchase and I wish this cashier would hurry and what is my husband doing and-“ The man reached out and waved a gentle finger at Layla, his face beaming. He complimented us on our sweet, beautiful daughter and how impressive her waving was. He asked her age and looked off, lost in thought. “They grow up so fast.”

I’ve heard this sentence approximately 1 thousand times since June. I’ve SAID this sentence 1 thousand times since June. But this man, who changed from unassuming and quiet to alight with joy, his words sunk into my bones. We were the PERFECT inconvenience- busy store, limited checkout lanes, HUGE purchase, coupons, loud baby. All he wanted to do was buy some bananas. He could’ve scoffed at us, tapped his feet, crossed his arms. Instead, he smiled at that loud baby and made her forget she was hungry and tired for a few minutes. To her, he was a friendly voice, a new face. He allowed a few extra minutes at the store to be a few extra minutes of happy.

I’m the first one to get caught up and overwhelmed by being busy. Lines annoy me. People annoy me. I wasn’t jazzed about waiting in line, making a huge purchase, and holding up the line for the people behind me. I wasn’t jazzed that we were going to get home at 7:30 and get our baby in bed late. I wasn’t jazzed to be spending so much money on groceries that were, albeit, necessary. I was a little embarrassed to be using multiple coupons with people behind me.

Starting a family is an adjustment. Your life becomes one ball of husbandkidmoneybillscleaningfooddogsfamilyobligationsstressworksleepmaybesometime. Constant fear that my kid will scream in church. Constant fear that someone in the room will get offended that I nurse my hungry baby in public. What will others think? Am I fitting the supermom mold?

That man at the store led me to flashbacks. The woman who stopped in the freezer aisle a week ago (We grocery shop a lot, okay?) and said “You have the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen.” The sweet text a family member sent me about how well-adjusted and happy my daughter is. My mother-in-law telling me how great I look post-baby. My dad proudly displaying the massive box of diapers he bought for us with his Costco rebate.

Why do I spend my time worrying about inconveniencing other people, about “mom failing,” when everyone else sees nothing but a happy family? That kid makes me so proud I could explode. I love that she gets hangry like me and sleeps like her dad. The people I encounter see their daughter, niece, granddaughter, sister, cousin in Layla. They remember when someone they love was tiny.

Nothing brings joy like the wild, waving hands and wide smiles of a baby.


So to the man behind us in line, thank you for smiling and cooing at my daughter. Thank you for spending those minutes chatting and beaming. You’re right; time flies. And I’m going to make a conscious effort to spend that flying time on joy.