Friday, August 20, 2010

Next Window Please

If you consider how long people have been having babies, you start to wonder why the world isn't more sensitive to the needs of new parents. 
For example, where are all the drive through services for mothers who schlep their kids to and from the post office, the dry cleaners, and the grocery store. I think everyone ought to offer a shopping experience modeled after a fast food joint.  Pay at the first window, pick up at the second.
How much easier would our days be if buying a book of stamps didn't involve having to unhinge the car seat, lock it into the Titanic-sized stroller, open two entrance doors with our asses, elbows, and knees, and stand in line singing "Itsy Bitsy Spider" while trying to squeeze in some Kegel exercises?

At least we'd avoid the rotten people who could care less that we have a baby in tow.  

I thought people were supposed to be nicer to women with children. 

When I was pregnant people held the door open for me and allowed me to pass them in line. All of a sudden my bump is gone and it's like I don't even exist.  
I guess that's my own fault.  Karma really is a bitch. 

I'd scowled at the nice lady at Old Navy who motioned for me to approach the register ahead of the other waiting customers. "You look like you can't wait," she commented, nodding at my protruding belly. 
I felt taunted by drivers who were yielding so I could cross the street, thinking that the only reason they'd stopped was to have a good laugh as I waddled on by. 
So.... I guess I had it coming.  But really.... You don't help a woman with a stroller get off the escalator? 
(NOTE TO NEW MOMS: TAKE THE ELEVATOR) Or understand when her child is wailing in the middle of Target?
I need to buy toilet paper and toothpaste too! 

My temporary solution has been simple.  I'm single-handedly keeping and Amazon in business. The UPS guy has shown up at my house almost every day of my maternity leave. Every time I see him bound up the stairs to the front door I breathe a sigh of relief knowing that I've escaped the three ring circus I'd have to endure just to pick up some baby butt cream. 

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