So there I am, loading the kids into the truck. Tying balloons onto car seats so they make it home from the birthday party. Fastening buckles. Unwrapping Smarties and Dum Dums for the short ride to Geege’s house. Rearranging the bags in the front seat so there is room for me to sit and drive. Chattering to the kids. Answering their questions. Finding their sippy cups. As far as loading in goes, this is a successful venture.
A car pulls up. A window rolls down. I catch it all in the corner of my eye.
“Everything OK, Jen? You need some help?”
Huh? I’m thinking to myself. What? Why would I need help?
And then I glance around. The recently full parking lot is empty except for this car beside me, carrying the birthday girl and her parents, and us: Me. And my three children.
I laugh, I think. (I hope.) I say something like, “We’re fine. It just takes 25 minutes to load everybody in.” I laugh again. Realizing my time estimation is an exaggeration. Also realizing that my friends had to load up all the gifts and leftover cake along with the newly 3-three-old herself, and still I was taking longer.
A smile reciprocated. A see you later. And off they drive. The birthday girl and her parents. Friends who live too far away but, fortunately for us all, close to Geege, so we could come to the party and make a weekend of it.
I finish the loading and arranging. Observe that guests for the next birthday party are beginning to arrive. And off I drive, with me still chuckling. Then, I call Sarah, because I know she will get it. This moment of “what it’s like to be me.” She does. We laugh.
I have written before about how long it takes to accomplish just the basics when you are outnumbered three to one by your kids. But it’s nice to be reminded, especially when it’s going well, that this is just the way it is. And, it occurs to me, it’s the way it’s supposed to be, really. Somehow I was meant to do triple the kids. Because on the days that it does work, there’s nothing better than looking back at my three children, all tucked in together in the back seat of our pick-up truck, squealing at their goodies from the party, looking forward to an overnight at their grandmother’s house—where surely they will be spoiled—and chattering amongst themselves. In her own “I will not be left out way,” even my 1-year-old is taking part in the conversation.
But here’s why this one small moment sticks with me, now more than a week later. Here’s what it all comes down to: Ken noticed something. That we were still there? That I was outside of the car? Actually, I don’t know what he noticed, what made him stop. Perhaps just the fact that we were still in the parking lot even though we’d left the party before they had. But he checked in. He offered to help. And that is more than many people do when they see a mother, managing her child, or children. No matter how many she has in her charge at the time.
This particular time, I didn’t need the help. But I’m grateful for the offer. I am. Since that unexpected exchange in an unfamiliar parking lot it has occured to me that people don’t offer to help each other enough. But that is a topic for another day. On this day, life with three was as it should be.
{ 14 comments… read them below or add one }
For some reason this post had me on the verge of tears. You are so right…not enough people offer to help. And so often if help is offered we automatically feel judged, put off, or embarassed. I love the perspective you took and I love that you had the thought about looking in the rearview mirror seeing your three jibber jabbering with excitement. I have caught myself looking in the rearview mirror amazed that the two whiney or excited children in my car are all mine!
Loved this post!
This post made me smile. After 6 kids in a decade, I am an expert car loader. I usually beat new parents with one by at least 5 minutes.
It is nice that your friend stopped and offered help. It’s comforting to know someone was looking out for you!
Twitter: latermom
That offer of help is huge, no matter how many kids you have. Or if you’re just pregnant… I remember feeling so lucky when doors were held (not often…) and smiles granted while I was expecting. Especially when I had one and a huge belly. Or on a flight when someone offers help when you’re lugging carseats and carryons and two kids.
It doesn’t happen often enough.
Twitter: crnnoel
Ah, where did those friendly bystanders go? I remember a few people who, when Miss D. was colicky and vicious, offered me their place in line at the grocery store. I was grateful and chagrined, because I’m sure they just wanted our asses OUT of there, but still, it was nice.
I offered to help an elderly lady unload her Costco boxes into her car the other day and she looked at me like I was some scheming thug. Ah, the modern times…
One of my Lenten promises is to practice micro-parenting (a term I learned from Bruce at http://privilegeofparenting.com) and your friend’s small gesture of checking in with you is exactly the kind of act I want to do more of – to look up and out often enough to notice others.
Twitter: Motherese
I know what you mean…my sister and I joke that wherever we are going needs to be at least twice as long as how long it takes to load everyone in and out of the car, coming and going…Nice formula we’ve got there, huh? But I so understand looking in the rearview and really being surprised (again!) that they are all mine! Such a sweet friend to offer help…so great that you can laugh at reality!
First of all, Jen, awesome on getting Geege to watch the kids so you could have a night alone! Oh, if only my mom wasn’t nearly eighty years old – the kids I could dump on her. And Geege takes them when they’re still in diapers! Hats off to grandmas.
Second, since everyone else already gave kudos to the night people for checking on you, do you love how all the other parents just grabbed the loot and hightailed it out of there? :)
Twitter: barmitzvahzilla
What a really lovely story. I was worried that your title was sarcastic and that this would be a tale of inconsiderate people ignoring a mother doing the best she can. I was so relieved to find that someone really had noticed. And you do him a service to recognize his kind gesture here. This is such an apt reminder that we are all doing our very best, but in spite of that it never hurts to offer help.
You made me think about the amount of effort that goes into getting my kids ready for snow and buckled into the car and I couldn’t help but smile. I smile because I’ve just returned to work after a year-long maternity leave. I leave for the office very early in the morning, by 6:00 a.m. most days. Because it’s so early my dad has very generously offered to take my kids to daycare each morning so that I can get out the door quickly and they can sleep in. Just like you were struck by the generosity Ken showed by checking if you were okay, so too am I reminded of how kind my dad is being and how, in the end, it’s the little things that can make a big difference in a mother’s day.
Twitter: CoffeesCommutes
As a fellow mother of 3, I totally relate to the amount of time it takes to get everyone loaded in when they’re all in carseats. I’m always the last to leave HAHA!
Twitter: mommyiscranky
I so remember those days vividly. It took forever to get everyone settled. I am so glad someone checked on you, even though you were fine.
Twitter: NickiinNY
OH. I mean: Oh. I’m okay most of the time too. But I find that so many, even friends and family but especially strangers are quick to critcize or quick to leave me on my own, struggling, rather than offer a hand. I am so concious of it that I find myself offering to help people all the time. And I get looks like I’m crazy. And I get told that surely I can’t help, I already have four of my own. But that’s my point. We all can. All of us help eachother. Because even when we don’t need help, even then it’s nice to know that someone else cares enough to offer. That’s all it would take to make life with one or three or eight just right. What a lovely story Jen, thanks!
The kindness of complete strangers offering to hold a door, offer their seat, or whatever it is is always the best feeling. Like, even though we don’t know each other we all recognize we’re part of the same human family.
Nell
I think about this so much. I try to stop to help moms when I have the luxury of going to the store all by myself. And many times they just stand there with their eyes bugging out, “are you talking to me?” Yup, I wanted to know if I could grab that for you…
and most of the time, they say no thanks.
We are SO used to doing it all alone. And we’re SO not used to someone offering help. It’s sad. So I’ll wait for that post for another day. You can just figure it all out and fix it right? :)
Twitter: HeatheroftheEO