So yesterday, I was that mom. 

Oh you know, the one who has the wild children running around the department store.

And not just running through the clothes, despite their mother calmly and nicely saying, “please don’t run in the store, girls.”  —  But screaming, too.

Screaming, despite their mom calmly and nicely saying “we cannot run and we cannot scream in stores.”

And they still run.  And they still scream.

People were looking.  People were smirking.  Employees were cussing under their breath.

I was waiting in line and despite my very best efforts to not scream at my children and just keep on simply saying “please stay by mama, hey! No– stay–” while they continued to frolic.

I had to continue in line to the next register and pray that my girls would follow me, which they didn’t.  They ran over to the mens department and got rowdy over there.

Oh yes, I had to excuse myself from a line of people behind me to retrieve my rotten children.

The tighter-than-normal hand-holding to tell them I was no longer messing around.  The death grip I had on Stella on my hip when she tried to wiggle free.

I was mortified.

This is horrifying!  I thought to myself. These rotten children, how did they get so out of control?! And here I am waiting in line to buy them things and they’re acting like this?!  People are looking!  Can’t they see that people are looking?!  They’re not listening.  At all!  They’re purposely disobeying. I seethed to myself as I accepted my cash back and gathered my bags.

I marched steadily out to the car.  With the oh-now-you’re-gonna-hear-it motherly stomp.

I began, “girls, this is not the way we behave in the store!  you cannot act this wa-” and Harlo disrupts me by saying,

“Thanks for buying me cute outfits, mom!”  – in the most earnest tone.

And suddenly, playing with your sister in a department store doesn’t sound like the worst thing ever.

People looking at me for my shrieking children no longer bothered me.

If the worst thing my girls sometimes do is get too silly while they play together as I’m boring them with running errands…

I’d say I’ve got it pretty good.

My girls are grateful.

And grateful is not something that just comes with maturity.

Sometimes, the worst things you can imagine, turn out to not be so bad after all.  I’m glad to have gotten a reminder that our children’s perspectives are so completely different from our own.  How blessed we are to have these sweet, free spirits to guide us through this life.

I find it amazing that I have learned more about life from my 2 and 3 (almost 4!) year old daughters than I have from any teacher/friend/boss I’ve ever had.

We really do have it backwards.

p.s.
I have to thank my sweet readers for the nice response and emails I got from this post. (that I was too nervous to even link to my facebook or twitter!) I’m opening up slowly and all the love and support shown means so much more than I can say.  You guys are wonderful!

xo – C