d up, or, she should just give him some candy or buy that toy. How wrong we are, people, to think like this. I learned my lesson yesterday.
What should have been an afternoon of slight leisure turned into a series of events that made up a shit show. The plan was to walk all 4.4 miles of the boardwalk. This walk would combine female bonding with exercise and upper body tanning. An hour and a half later than the originally scheduled liaison, I had finally made it onto the boardwalk. Accompanying me was a friend and her daughter, a potential sister in law and her friend and my B.F.F/Reason for Living, Emily. This little estrogen-laden group is strolling and talking and suddenly my “chatty”, raspberry blowing munchkin has a mood swing that turned the weather from sunny and bright to dark and dismal.
Emily was going to stay home with Josh, but ended up coming with me due to a change in his plans. I did not instruct Josh to include the diaper bag or a bottle with its accoutrements (Mother of the Year) nor did he have the foresight to pack it anyway (men). There went any quick fix to the potential problem (dirty dipes, empty belly).
In all honesty, it was too early for Em to eat and she had not had such a solid nap, but being an infant and being the daughter of Queen Moody, anything was possible. After only walking for about 20 minutes, I knew I had to turn around for home. Crying, crying, crying….all the way home. As we exited the boardwalk, Emily immediately calmed down and returned to her “chatty”, raspberry blowing munchkin self. None of what happens next is at all exciting. But what happened during the six minute walk that seemed like my perception of a climb up Mt. Kilimanjaro changed my judgmental way of thinking and gave my former judgmental self a good tsk tsk and a talking to. While Emily was at the height of her freak out (I think she was just sweaty or simply acting like a baby, go figure), a tall, shirtless man between the ages of 23 and 30 stared at me with an accusatory glare that insinuated I had either:
a. just kicked the crap out of my child
b. chose to ignore her crying
c. was more interested in tanning
I usually look away if someone is staring at me in a way that makes me feel creepy, but he had just crossed a line. I recall hearing that in order to teach a dog who is boss, you hold their stare until they look away. In my effort to make the Dog Whisperer proud (we are all animals), I did just that. I locked eyes with this dude. He held my gaze. As we passed, I turned my head and continued to hold his gaze. He did the same. This was happening in a matter of seconds, all to the tune of Mass Hysteria blaring from a stroller. At this point, another man approaches and starts to dirty look me too!!! “ENOUGH!!!” a voice screamed in my head. Suddenly, I hear myself saying, “BABIES CRY!!!!!! STOP STARING AT ME IN JUDGEMENT!!!!!” Guy number two then started laughing, which I interpreted as a reality check for him, as he was thinking I was just an insensitive bitch who didn’t care about her child.
For the record, I did take Em out of the stroller a couple of times and naturally, she ceased her lung exercises, but she did not have a hat and I didn’t want her little keppy getting burned. I hate admitting this, but it was somewhat difficult to maneuver a stroller one handed while holding a 17 pounder at the same time. I am still working on that move.
I would like to take this time to apologize to any woman I deeply sighed at as I expressed my disgust towards them for not doing something to try and shut their kid up. I wasn’t a mother then. I misunderstood.
NOTE: While the picture is from when Em was about 46 seconds old, she still has that face when she cries. She has also reverted back to implementing a shriek intermittently between her usual cries that she had when she was in the hospital after she was born.
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