We met eyes for just a brief moment but I could feel you watching me long after that.
And I think I know what you were thinking because it was kind of written all over your face.
You looked at me like you were witnessing a magical act. Like I was a baby whisperer and you stared me down with your admiration until I couldn't help but look up at you.
You see, this sweet mama looked tired, overwhelmed, and was just wandering the aisles of the store today almost just to kill time...
(was your little one napping? I couldn't see because you were wearing them).
And I remember that feeling of getting out in those early days with just one baby too. The way time just infinitely slips into days and weeks and the way you're not sure which way is up... yes, I remember...but see my experience was different because I was already pregnant when my first babe was this age...so I was tired and my listless trips to the store were cut a little shorter for that reason.
But back to today, you looked at me with eyes that said, "How are you doing ALL of this? With THREE of them? Just HOW...", looking so defeated with your messy bun and mascara stained eyes. Maybe you had cried earlier in the day. Or slept. Or both. Because that would be normal.
And I wanted to walk over to you, complete stranger, and hug you.
And reassure that it gets better and that you will make it through the other side and that you will be alright.
But, motherhood came calling, and one toddler while running through the store (the way I told them not to in the parking lot not even two minutes earlier...ughh) knocked over my other toddler and they both started to cry while the oldest of the three began to call from a checkout lane that he was "Ready to checkout with all these candies" and so, I had to go.
I had to scoop up my two tots while wiping tears and kissing boo-boos walking at the oldest one, who is always testing the line, and give him the mom glare that means "IT"S TIME TO GO," and he got it. And just like that, in one quick movement without so much as a uncomfortable pause, or embarrassed look around (you learn to stop doing that after kid number two- you just stop caring what other people think because you're happy to tell anyone who thinks they have an opinion about how you're doing this whole motherhood thing where they can shove it, and thats about 2 diaper genies filled with about 50 shit diapers- that's where).
So to that mama today, I promise you are okay.
I promise I have no secrets to share with you or magic dust to give.
Just hang in there mama, you'll learn this is just a phase, just phase...
...Meanwhile Moon Mamas....