We were late to church on Sunday (I guess I've already mentioned this). Just a few minutes after taking our seats on the lobby couch, Quinn let out a yelp. It wasn't a screech, & he just did it once, so I just shushed him while getting West out of his car seat & onto Mike's lap. Meanwhile, an older woman walked over & proceeded to lecture my sweet + innocent two year child about how This (was) Jesus' house, & you are making him very sad. !!! She kept going on & on about concepts that of course he cannot yet understand until I finally turned Q around on my lap so that his back was to her, shooting her a You've got to be kidding me look in the meantime. Then - then!!! West made a noise - you know, one of those cute baby noises - like a squeak or loud coo or something. He wasn't hungry or tired, he was just making a baby noise. This woman - who I'm fairly certain did not have dementia, by the way - said, Oh!! He's having such a terrible day! What a sad baby! & then proceeded with several quoted verses about enduring to the end & this to shall pass all while giving me a terribly condescending there, there look. She finished by presenting her credentials, explaining that she was responsible for four generations. I can't even tell you how much I wanted to punch this old woman in the face, or at least say bad words to her. Instead, I just said - Actually - we're having a great day! And my baby is happy, & my son is two. Thanks! I could have screamed.
Rule #1: Do not lecture my children as if they are your own, especially by telling them that they are making Jesus sad.
Rule #2: Refrain from making condescending remarks about how my life is so hard, how we're obviously a disaster, or how we should just wait until it inevitably gets worse.
I basically fumed for the next two hours. (And yes - I have a hard time assuming good will, & this woman meant well I'm mostly-sure, but I absolutely cannot stand self-righteous or invasive behavior from people, especially those I don't even know. Boundaries, people!)
A few minutes later, we took Quinn to his new (older!) nursery class for the first time. We haven't taken him since the beginning of the new year thanks to him either being sick or everyone else there being sick (don't get me started), so when I walked in this past week I had to introduce him to his new teachers. As I was walking out the door, the older woman handed him a bright red fire truck while saying Here, would you like a toy to play with? I got out of there as fast as I could, because let me tell you - if his seemingly irreverent behavior just a few minutes earlier made Jesus sad, then his audible excitement over seeing a fire truck in nursery would really make some waves.
Case in point - When we were at the pediatrician yesterday, Quinn was playing with his favorite app on the iPad that has all sorts of service + emergency vehicles. He got to the fire truck & started excitedly yelling Tire F$#@! Tire F$#@! as loudly as he could. The other mothers waiting with me looked at me & the laughed, because they understood - & because really, how could you not?
(We're doing our best to correct him, but it's sort of a futile effort at this point.)