You’re Not Supposed to Carry a Baby in a Bucket!
I hefted the huge Rubbermaid bin out of the box of my truck and sighed in relief that yet another load of clothes were off to the consignment store, no longer cluttering my kids’ closets. The irony is never lost on me. And in that moment, I again was keenly aware that the money earned would likely go towards filling those same closets with bigger sizes, different seasons.
After lifting my daughter from her car seat and setting her on the nearby sidewalk, I instructed her to stay beside the Rubbermaid bin while I freed her brother from the constraints of his seat. I was delighted to see that she complied with my orders...seeing as how it took a good ten minutes to wrestle her brother’s wiggling body out of the twisted straps (that, yet again, need to be lengthened and raised to accommodate a recent growth spurt), find his boot that he had kicked off on the drive over, and perform the required acrobatics to return the loose, uncooperative foot to the said boot.
There we stood on the sidewalk, three doors down from the consignment store; my son balanced precariously on my hip and my daughter clinging to my free hand ready to navigate the icy January sidewalk. I stared at the giant Rubbermaid sitting at my feet and realized my predicament; went over my options in my head. I considered kicking the bin down the sidewalk, or letting go of my daughter’s hand and trying to carry it with my free hand while gently coaxing her across the frozen concrete, but the bin was clearly too awkward and heavy for any of that. Besides, I could tell by the apprehensive look on my daughter’s face and the death grip she maintained on my hand, that she wasn’t about to tackle the icy stairs unaided. I silently chided myself for leaving my sling in the truck, and for a moment considered going back to put it on, thereby freeing up the hand that was supporting my son, but quickly realized I would still be left with one hand too few for the job at hand (isn’t that always how it is with motherhood?).
So, I did what any other mom would do in this situation. I dropped my son into the bin of clothes, picked it up and gave my daughter the “Mommy’s got everything under control” look. We began to shuffle along the storefronts with my daughter now holding onto my pant leg and my son staring up at me curiously from his impromptu cradle in the bin, when all of the sudden we heard it.
Someone inside the store was banging on the window...yelling at (presumably) us. I cringed as the person stormed out the door calling, “Hey! You’re not supposed to carry a baby in a bucket!” I turned sheepishly, ready to defend myself to this overly concerned citizen, only to find myself face to face with an old friend – one of the parents from the school where I used to teach. Relieved that I had escaped a referral to Social Services, we enjoyed a brief chat to catch up on each other’s life.
She then preceded to hand me my son, pick up the Rubbermaid bin and carry it down the sidewalk into the store, leaving me a free hand with which to help my daughter. I thanked her profusely, proclaimed her Good Samaritan of the Day and waved goodbye as she went on her way.
All this to say...as a Mom, there are plenty of times when, “you do what you gotta do.” But it sure is nice when someone who has “been there” reaches back to give you a hand. Keep that in mind the next time you have an extra one to lend. Chances are there’s a mom nearby who could use it.
After lifting my daughter from her car seat and setting her on the nearby sidewalk, I instructed her to stay beside the Rubbermaid bin while I freed her brother from the constraints of his seat. I was delighted to see that she complied with my orders...seeing as how it took a good ten minutes to wrestle her brother’s wiggling body out of the twisted straps (that, yet again, need to be lengthened and raised to accommodate a recent growth spurt), find his boot that he had kicked off on the drive over, and perform the required acrobatics to return the loose, uncooperative foot to the said boot.
There we stood on the sidewalk, three doors down from the consignment store; my son balanced precariously on my hip and my daughter clinging to my free hand ready to navigate the icy January sidewalk. I stared at the giant Rubbermaid sitting at my feet and realized my predicament; went over my options in my head. I considered kicking the bin down the sidewalk, or letting go of my daughter’s hand and trying to carry it with my free hand while gently coaxing her across the frozen concrete, but the bin was clearly too awkward and heavy for any of that. Besides, I could tell by the apprehensive look on my daughter’s face and the death grip she maintained on my hand, that she wasn’t about to tackle the icy stairs unaided. I silently chided myself for leaving my sling in the truck, and for a moment considered going back to put it on, thereby freeing up the hand that was supporting my son, but quickly realized I would still be left with one hand too few for the job at hand (isn’t that always how it is with motherhood?).
So, I did what any other mom would do in this situation. I dropped my son into the bin of clothes, picked it up and gave my daughter the “Mommy’s got everything under control” look. We began to shuffle along the storefronts with my daughter now holding onto my pant leg and my son staring up at me curiously from his impromptu cradle in the bin, when all of the sudden we heard it.
Someone inside the store was banging on the window...yelling at (presumably) us. I cringed as the person stormed out the door calling, “Hey! You’re not supposed to carry a baby in a bucket!” I turned sheepishly, ready to defend myself to this overly concerned citizen, only to find myself face to face with an old friend – one of the parents from the school where I used to teach. Relieved that I had escaped a referral to Social Services, we enjoyed a brief chat to catch up on each other’s life.
She then preceded to hand me my son, pick up the Rubbermaid bin and carry it down the sidewalk into the store, leaving me a free hand with which to help my daughter. I thanked her profusely, proclaimed her Good Samaritan of the Day and waved goodbye as she went on her way.
All this to say...as a Mom, there are plenty of times when, “you do what you gotta do.” But it sure is nice when someone who has “been there” reaches back to give you a hand. Keep that in mind the next time you have an extra one to lend. Chances are there’s a mom nearby who could use it.
Comments