June 26, 2007 | Mama Smith

more adventures in mothering advice

I just returned from Target with the boys where I picked up a few exciting items like nursing pads, toilet paper and tissues. Dutifully but bitterly avoiding the tempting items like cute flip-flops, funky jewelry, and a fun kid’s eating set.

As my thrilling items were being rung up and I was bemoaning the fact that I’d spent $50 on the most boring round of household items, the cashier smiled at Brighton and said, “You’re too old for that binky! You should tell your mom you’re just too old for that binky!”

Hi lady. I’m standing right here. Why don’t you just tell me yourself.

In my mind, I envisioned saying, “Brighton, tell the nice lady she’s too young and not quite senile enough to be giving unsolicited advice”.

Unfortunately, Matthew is the one in the family with the bold, forthright genes. I’m the one who silently goes to the car and curses the woman to myself instead.

It all started with the big pregnany belly. I swear it started this whole thing. Suddenly I was transformed from a commonplace, invisible woman in society into, what others believed, was a woman who desparately wanted strangers to rub her belly, tell her their birthing/parenting horror stories (and how it only gets worse than you might feel it is at the moment) and who only goes to grocery stores and other public places for empathy, silently begging for advice on how to do this mothering thing. Someone who no longer blends into the crowd, but rather unbeknownst to her, is wearing a sign on her head saying “I don’t know what I’m doing. Please give me your advice on how to be a better mom than I am”.

Guess I should go re-read my post from a few days ago.

Thankfully Levi prefers his two middle fingers over a pacifier. He assumes his sleep position of fingers in the mouth and other hand over his eyes to clue me in to the fact he wants to go to his crib and sleep. Oh the beauty of the easy second child.