I remember life before I was a mom. It’s a little shadow of a memory, but it’s there. Just lurking in a tiny space in my mind, nearly overrun with thoughts of diapers, wipes, runny noses, fevers, coughs, giggles, coos, tantrums, and the like. At any rate, I have this memory that is BURNED into my mind. It’s my last non-Mom trip to the zoo.
I remember this memory so well because of the magnitude by which it struck me at the time. I was one of “those people” who found most small children to be quite annoying and their respective parents to be inept idiots. Yes, I know…Clearly, God has smacked me in the head for those cruel ideas! With that in mind, I found my trip to the zoo quite upsetting the last time BB (before baby). You see, I remember the people with strollers. I. Hate. Strollers. They were rude, what with all their crowding, toe-smashing, and general discombobulated nature. A mom with a child dangling precariously from her hip, a dad with an empty stroller, a diaper bag the size of a small suitcase, a sippy cup clutched in his hand, all the while trying to operate a camera with one finger and his tongue. OMG. WHY do these people come to the zoo? They look miserable. They’re in my way. Their kid is screaming. And all the while I was contemplating whether or not I could get a refund for my admission on account of pain and suffering, I kept thinking to myself, I WILL NEVER BE ONE OF THEM!
I’m one of them.
I was so excited at the prospect of heading to the zoo with my little darling this year. After all, he’s running around, coherent, and likes to point and grunt at things. He’s going to love the zoo! So the hottie and I loaded up our little munchkin, packed a lunch, and make the trek to the zoo. Suddenly, I felt the pain of the people at the zoo who I once scoffed at so coldly. I was pushing the stroller. I was balancing the baby on my hip. I was running into childless couples with reckless abandon. After all, their hand-holding and canoodling was annoying. Why aren’t they working as hard as we are to have fun?
And yet, we had fun. Munchkin Man enjoyed himself. I mean, after he barfed his lunch all over his shirt and threw a world-class tantrum, things got better. 🙂 Nevertheless, I did something I thought I’d never do: I became “one of them.” And so what? I get it now. And I’m glad.