When I was first living on my own, in my early to mid twenties, I was pretty selfish and lacked a whole lot of understanding and compassion. At the time, I never thought any of that would be a true statement, but having a few more years and a few more experiences under my belt has really showed me that yeah, I was a knob.
I preached back then about how much I believed in the compassion of the Buddha and told people over and over again that I lived my life by the Four Noble Truths and the Eight Fold Path. And in my mind, I'm sure I really believed I was a shining example of compassion. But, heaven forbid a baby would start screaming in a store, then my compassion and sympathy went right out the window as I cursed the mother and child under my breath. Why didn't they just leave? Why didn't that mother have more control over her child? What a failure and how dare they ruin my day!
I now know that I really lacked compassion and understanding back then because I became THAT mother over the holidays.
One thing I never thought about or even considered back then while listening to that child scream in the store was how the mother was feeling. My thoughts mostly focused around the 'shut the fuck up' concept and never gave the mother much thought.
The day before Christmas Eve, I still had two tasks to do - go grocery shopping and go to the Liquor store to get a bottle of wine that was to be a Christmas gift. These were two things I could not skip out on as it was my last opportunity to do both before the holidays and the success of the holidays depended on me completing these two tasks. After work I rushed to pick Hunter up from day care and the child was in fine, fine form when I got him. I was told he was cranky and whiny all day long - completely not himself. I wasn't too surprised as he had a very late night and an early morning and looked tired to me. I kind of laughed off his crying as I took him to the car and started to drive to the grocery store.
We didn't even get two feet in the store and he started to scream... loudly. I had to pull the cart over and try to talk some reasoning to him, try to calm him down. I thought in the back of my mind that if I could clam him down a little bit, I could rush through the shopping trip and at least get some of the main things I needed. He just wasn't cooperating so I raced down the aisles, not even looking at my list. My whole goal was to just get the fuck out of there with him as soon as possible. Of course, it being the day before Christmas Eve, the tills were completely backed up. I was lucky that by the time I got to the checkout, Hunter had calmed down a little bit and I was able to wait in line with him without too many out bursts. As I walked him and the groceries to the car, I started to think that maybe the trip to the Liquor Store might not be so bad. He seemed happy enough after I parked the car and we walked to the store.
Once we were inside, it was another story. I kind of figured I'd have to carry the little guy as there was way to many breakable things in the story. Hunter, on the other hand, had a different idea. He wanted to walk around and touch everything. After about two minutes in the store, I picked him up and the crying and screaming started. It didn't stop either. I quickly grabbed the first bottle of wine I saw that looked decent (don't even ask me what the bottle was, I don't remember. All I know is the bottle was pretty and it was in the price range and it was red) and rushed to the checkout. Again, being one of the last shopping days, the checkout was backed up. Hunter, who was not happy, was screaming and yelling and fighting me worse than he did on our first airplane ride. I was so humiliated and frustrated. I felt eyes on me from all over and I even caught a few sneers and eye rolls from people. If it was normal circumstances and I knew I had an opportunity to finish this another day, believe you me, I would have high-tailed it out of that store with the kiddo and just gone home. But I really couldn't.
I do have to say that some people really show true compassion in those moments. The lady in front of me in the check out line was wonderful, doing her best to distract hunter and even holding his boot for me when he kicked it off. The lady that brought me the cart was a godsend. As soon as that car twas brought over I was at least able to put Hunter in it and not worry too much about the bottles breaking. Some of the employees were doing their best to help, offering little nick-nacks and peek-a-boo games with kiddo. I got out of that store as quickly as possible, buckled Hunter into his car seat and cried all the way home.
I cried for two reasons. The first - I was fucking embarrassed and felt awful about ruining everyone's evening/shopping trip. The second was that I cried for my own stupidity and lack of compassion in my younger years for mothers who found themselves in this exact situation with their children.
Becoming THAT mother made me realize a lot about myself and how far I've come with being compassionate. I think if I was in a store and saw someone with a young child who was melting down, I would for sure do my best to help out, and if that wasn't possible, I know I would not be pissed off about the situation the way my younger self would have.
I guess growing up is good that way, you know?
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