This morning my husband and I found ourselves child-free for a couple of hours, so while they were off on an adventure with their Grandma we decided to go out for breakfast. Seated at my favourite breakfast spot overlooking the lake and town we smiled at each other when a baby started to shriek from only a few tables away. We smiled because it wasn’t ours. Our youngest is a toddler, and it could very well be our child causing a scene in a restaurant on any other day, but on this day it wasn’t. We smiled, sipped our coffee, and glanced in the direction of the new parents with an encouraging smile when the child would yell. We were smiling because the baby was adorable, and we know all too well what it’s like.
We were halfway through our meal when it happened. An obnoxious older couple sitting between us and the young family began discussing, loudly, how the baby was ruining their meal. Between eye rolls and loud statements, we listened as they got louder. “We might as well just leave,” said the exasperated old woman. Their sighs and comments became more dramatic, and the couple with the baby was visibly upset by the situation, and eating quickly now, no longer enjoying their meal.
My husband and I discussed how thoughtless and rude it was to shame the young family. He said he just wanted to go and hold the baby for the couple so they could eat, but we didn’t know them, and didn’t want to make them uncomfortable. We both wished we’d had the courage to say something.
I’ve been thinking back to my worst moments out in public with a young child. There are only a couple, but one, in particular, has always stayed with me and brought a tear to my eye when I tell others about the kindness of a stranger.
As a twenty-year-old with a baby I was always scared of a grocery store meltdown. It was my insecurity of being such a young mother coupled with my partner being regularly out of town and unable to help that made me rarely risk the grocery store.
One afternoon when my cupboards were particularly bare I braved the local Extra Foods. The baby was in good spirits, and I stood confidently in the checkout line. He had put his head down on the handle of the cart and fallen into a deep sleep just a few aisles in and hadn’t made a sound.
The line was long, and as we neared the front my son began to stir. He stretched, constricted by the seat and seatbelt in the grocery cart he started to cry, reaching to be picked up. I picked him up and held him in one arm as I unloaded my cart with the other, and as soon as he was fully awake he started to squirm, wanting to get down and crawl. I remember the store being so warm and starting to sweat, red-faced and embarassed as I wrestled with him trying to keep him in my arms as he reached for the floor. He became enraged when I tried to put him back in the cart, screaming, crying and flailing to try and get away. I held my flailing child in one arm with tears in my eyes as I tried, unsuccessfully, to load my groceries with the other.
“Do you want me to hold Charlie?” said a voice from the next aisle over. I didn’t recognize my mom’s coworker at the time, as I’d only met her once or twice. I wouldn’t just hand my baby over to a stranger, but she knew his name so I figured I knew her from somewhere and thrust him quickly into her waiting arms. I loaded up my bags as fast as I could. When I finished I looked over and he was flailing around even harder. I finally noticed that the poor woman was very pregnant, and holding onto him at a distance while he kicked his feet violently at her. I think I thanked her, but I honestly can’t remember. I grabbed him and got out of there as fast as I could. It took me awhile to go back into that store again after the incident, and no one had said or done one negative thing besides a few stares.
I can’t imagine if someone had actually made loud comments berating and embarrassing me. It might have deterred me completely from getting that time outside the home that many parents desperately need to maintain their sanity.
I know this might garner a negative response, but let me be clear, this wasn’t a high-class restaurant where someone was ruining an expensive and elegant experience by bringing their baby. This restaurant is located in a hotel. As far as I’m concerned if a family is paying for accommodations, they should also be able to eat at the hotel restaurant without being shamed into feeling like they should leave.
Today I didn’t speak up. I should have told the young family that their baby was beautiful, and that the people they were stuck beside were assholes. Instead we gave them a knowing smile on our way out the door.
It’s still bothering me, which is why I’m writing this post. Although I’m very shy by nature, I want to try harder to speak up in the future. Parents of young children never know what we’re going to get when we take them somewhere. Even the most
So to the woman who helped me bag my groceries, thank you. To the beautiful family I saw at breakfast today, you’re doing a great job. To their nasty neighbours, maybe you should have breakfast at home next Saturday.
