The “F” bomb…

Okay – so after reading a post by a fellow frazzled mom – I took a much needed trip down memory lane.  Not so much that I needed to go back in time and relive this particular day, cause it was a killer of a stinky day, but it’s nice to see how far I’ve come and realize how much I have SURVIVED!  I’ve come a long way, baby!

Motherhood makes you not just more patient, but so much more humble.  Her blog was about a very humbling moment.  (Here’s her post if you’d like to join her funny journey )  No idea how to make this a link so please copy it into your browser!!

I drifted back to one of the most embarrassing moments I had in my first 3 years of parenting…  There would be MANY more to come… but this was one I have never had the good fortune to forget…

My daughters were both toddlers under age 3 and we were in a packed isle in the big grocery super store.  I was more tired than my napless daughters. My oldest couldn’t say her “S”s yet so she substituted “F”‘s for them. Normally it was a cute and endearing thing.  This day?  Yeah, not so much…

I was bribbing them both with suckers from the bank teller who had doted on them a few moments ago when they were darling angels.  Now they were past humoring my To-Do list.  We were on sucker number 2 and I was praying that the sugary balls of goodness would hold out, but I was ill prepared for the jam packed isles. I ran out of suckers and my once angelic daughter began tantruming (I swear I am a better mom than this sounds!) …but she began whinning at a glass-shattering high pitch and began yelling, “Mommy! Fucker, Fucker, Fucker!!! (Meaning I want a sucker of course – duh!) but yeah – I’d never said the “F” bomb in her life but here she was yelling it at the top of her lungs.  Together her sister tried to imitate her by pounding her fists on the shopping cart and yelling nonsense while my oldest kept her mantra of the “F” bomb going.  I was fresh out of those sticky sticks of silence and so I was “SOL”.

I got done really fast from that point – let me tell you.  I was dying a thousand deaths as hundreds of eyes bore down on me assuring me that I was, in fact, the worst mother on the planet.  I will never forget the feeling of wanting to sink into the floor and hide forever.

But living through the kid’s toddlerhood – barely – has made me a better neighbor, line waiter, and WAY better human.  I am more apt to look at the tantruming child in the line in front of me and remember my kids and then say a little prayer for their mom.  I know she has to be as frazzled and embarrassed as I was that day.  You cant make a hungry baby stop screaming by any other way than feeding it (Just an FYI) – and if you are a nursing mom, it’s not like you can hand it your breast and make it happy, not like a bottle feeding mom can do.  I always feel so sorry for the mom’s who just want to get home and are standing trapped in a check out line with people ahead and behind them. There is no where to go.

So next time a kid is tantruming in the isle or the line – remember, life isn’t as easy as you remember it – and no, if it was YOUR kid, you wouldn’t always have it whipped into shape inside of 5 seconds.  Give the parent some grace.  You don’t know what they live with and you don’t know what they have going on in their unseen lives.  Don’t judge them by their screaming kid… and they wont judge you by the high and mighty stench you give off as you waltz by with your “Know-it-all” attitude.

This has been a trip down memory lane  has brought to you by the “Hind Sight is Better than Foresight” Knowledge Company.


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