The Wal-Mart Effect

Last week I did something I don't normally do.  Usually I choose to fight the weekend crowds and do my shopping  on a Saturday so my two and five year old can stay home with my husband while I shop.  But my oldest wanted some craft supplies so I broke my personal rule and drove to Wal-Mart.  I parked in what seemed like the 60th row in the parking lot and with my two year old on my hip and my five year old latched on to my hand we began the trek to the store.  

It was a beautiful day and my boys were chatting happily.  I was even singing "This Is the Day the Lord Has Made."  We passed an older lady loading her groceries and she looked up and smiled at us.  She had this look that just made me know we were adorable.  I was feeling good.  I mean, we just got the certified Grandma look of approval.

I didn't leave the store feeling the same way.  And the thing that bugs me the most about it was that nothing really catastrophic happened.  It was just the run of the mill, shopping with two pre-schoolers kind of stuff. Liam didn't want to stay buckled in the cart, and having my blood running through his veins like he does, he wasn't accepting defeat and spent the entire 30 minutes we were in the store unhappily trying to escape.  My five year old's only crime was being too helpful.  He kept trying to re-scan our things at the self check out.  

As I was comforting Liam and explaining to Haden that I didn't want to have to pay for everything twice, I saw the check out attendant giving me an aggravated look because we were holding up the line. I instantly felt embarrassed.  The earlier "Mother of the Year Glow" from before had evaporated under the employee's look of impatience.

I left the store feeling self-conscious.  As I drove home I began to wonder why my Wal-Mart trip had ended so badly.  There were no tantrums, no parking lot fender benders.  And when I realized what I was doing to myself, it really got on my nerves.  I was seeing myself through other peoples eyes. The old lady made me feel cute and successful. The Wal-Mart
employee made me feel harried and disorganized.  Even as I write this I am going to correct myself. They didn't make me feel anything.  I placed judgement on my self due to the reactions they gave.

So how often do we do this to ourselves?  I do it quite a bit.  And I am working on it.  First, just by admitting to myself that I am making myself  a little bit miserable.  And also by reminding myself to be kind.  It's really easy for me to be kind to others. But I have a hard time showing that courtesy to myself.  And lastly, when I see a fellow momma struggling in line, to give them a smile and  maybe a hand.

OCD Mom.  That is the name I picked for my blog.  I had a person tell me once, that I shouldn't label myself with my disorder.  That it makes it more powerful or real somehow.  While I appreciate the concern, I don't subscribe to that way or thinking.  Whether I acknowledge it or not, it is a real part of me.  Just as sure as my leg or heart. Don't misunderstand me.  I don't enjoy it or accept the limitations it tries to set upon me.  I just accept it as a part of who I am.   I believe I have this acceptance because of another label I proudly carry. Truthfully, the most important label: Christian.  Christ knit me in my mother's womb and has a plan for me.  So, I embrace my labels.  Christian.  Wife.  OCD.  Mom. 

I'm writing this blog because I think being a woman is hard.  Being a mom is crazy hard.  There is a reason woman need to stick together and share the burden.  Its a big one.    And having OCD and depression adds another level of difficulty to it.  I know there are there moms out there with similar problems and my goals are to share my "normal" parenting challenges and maybe my not so "normal" ones too.  Because the joys are there. Us moms just have to share the chaos.