Last week I took my children to the grocery store, which any mom of multiples will tell you is no easy task. I took advantage of the race car shopping cart, and said lots of things like “no, you can’t get out of the buggy” and “no, you can’t have candy.” There was also plenty of “stop making your sister cry” and “you better be good if you want those fruit snacks we bought.” What I’m trying to say is it went really well. Nobody fell out of the shopping cart when we took the corners too quickly, and the baby didn’t have a single diaper blow-out while we were there.
So as I stood in the checkout aisle, or victory lane as I like to call it, I felt a sense of accomplishment in our trip that had ended with no one in tears. Especially me. As I watched the total come across the screen I noticed a family approach behind me in line. It was hard not to notice them because they had approximately 6-8 children crowded around their own shopping cart full of fresh fruits and vegetables. I say approximate because not wanting to stare or become distracted from my own three I didn’t actually count heads. Just know it was what my grandma used to call a passel.
While I gathered my own brood to depart, the happy family stepped forward, and that’s when I heard the checker ask, “are y’all having a sleepover?”
I winced a little, but also locked eyes with the mom and offered a wink of solidarity.
The lovely, put-together mom, sporting an elaborate tattoo across her chest didn’t fit the “typical” mold of a mom of many multiples, but then I wondered what is typical anyway?
“No, they’re all mine.”
As I listened she tried to make light of the employee’s innocent enough remark with some humor, “I wish it was a sleepover. That would mean some could go home.”
It was at that moment that I wanted to speak out loud my support of this pretty mama. I wanted to say, “it’s alright, girl. I know them babies are a blessing.”
In the short time available I had noticed all the children to be tidy and well-dressed. Dad was present and helped usher everyone to the vehicle, which I noted in the parking lot to be a nice one. The woman paid for their nutrition food with money from her wallet, and all the kids appeared happy, healthy, and well-behaved. But really none of that mattered.
It wasn’t my concern if she could financially provide, or if the government was paying for her groceries. It shouldn’t matter if she was sporting a long skirt or full sleeve tats. It didn’t matter whether dad was there, or even if they would have been walking instead of in a nice SUV. And really it wasn’t my business whether they had a cart full of fruit or a buggy overflowing with chips and sodas. It shouldn’t concern me if that happened to be only half of her offspring, and if she had another 6-8 waiting at home.
Because see, none of my preconceived notions nor my opinion mattered when it came right down to it. It didn’t matter what I thought, or even what the store employee thought. We didn’t personally pay her bills, and we certainly weren’t sending her kids to college. So when it came down to it, if she wanted to, she could have fifty kids and it wouldn’t matter to us.
I wish I had said, “good job, Momma. Way to enjoy the gift of motherhood to its fullest.”
Too many times our words come out as judgment, and our notions of what’s normal suggest someone’s decision for their own family unit is anything but. What we should be offering instead is encouragement, perhaps a “you have a beautiful family” instead of “are all those yours” or the ever popular “bless your heart” that’s usually accompanied by a look of pity.
I’m sure she knows exactly “what causes that” and is very, very aware that her “hands must be full.” But the one thing she knows for sure, that none of us can see, is the fact of how full her heart is too.
Lucinda says
Oh Brie!! Perfectly said!!! I’ve struggled with announcing our pregnancy. Seeing as I brought 3 children and my husband brought 3 and a step daughter to our marriage it’s a struggle but we knew we wanted more (and maybe even more). But often I get looks of horror, or sad poor you, or even disgust…but a great job, that’s amazing, or even a good luck, would be sufficient. I always knew I wanted a big family…this big? Well not quite but definitely thankful for each and everyone of them!
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Yes! Children are a blessing. Is it crazy, hard sometimes? Sure. But totally worth it.
Denise says
I still look at our four and count their heads to ascertain that indeed, the count is four!! And we blessed.????