I went to the mall today to make a return of ill fitting bras.
Everyone who enters these consumer soul sucking brick and mortar buildings during the holidays, should receive some sort of “I made it out alive “ award. While there, I ventured into the Gap, because obviously I thought I was still in my 20’s.
That is when I saw a new mama with a new baby trying on a new striped sweater in the aisle. There was no time for a fitting room. What actually “fits” after growing a human? XXXL sized men’s pajama pants, that’s what. The fact that this dynamic duo made it into the mall was a Christmas miracle, as far as I'm concerned.
New infant in stroller starts to whimper. We all know where this is headed: there is a ticking time bomb / tiny human / hand grenade and she’s gonna detonate any second.
New mom’s mom, or new dad’s mom?, (Grandma), stands NEXT to new baby, WITHOUT picking her up, and states, “Those stripes make you look bigger. Try it on in black.”
New mom viscerally deflates.
Deliberately, I make my way to be in physical close proximity to new mom - an unspoken statement of solidarity. New mom is holding new baby now, rocking back and forth. Back and forth. I remember feeling this. Like I would never be good enough as a mom, wife, fill In the blank here.
I make eye contact with her. She's now doing the famous in the crook of the arm "airplane" baby manuveur. “You’re doing a really good job mama. Sometimes it can be hard.”I say as I walk past.
God as my witness, if I wouldn’t have been arrested for picking up that new babe, I would have hip swayed her to kingdom come while new mom tried on ALL the sweaters.
Alas…Let’s make a pact shall we? May we surround each other with no judgement with an extra side of unconditional love as we travel in this life. I know I most definitely need that kind of grace. You do, too?
Perfect. Let’s go shopping.