Read All of Laughing Through Chaos

A seemingly sweet-looking little old lady (let's just call her Granny Panties) at church just about got a knuckle sandwich this morning, but lucky for her, I was holding my screaming child, who was apparently trying to communicate to the entire church that I hadn't fed her in, oh, a good week or so by the decibel level of her screams.

We made a beeline for the bathroom so I could feed her in private (so as to avoid the rest of the seemingly sweet-looking little old ladies lifting up the nursing blanket to talk to my child, completely defeating the purpose of me trying not to flash the world as my child has her Sunday morning brunch).

Allow me to back up a bit so you can fully appreciate my desire to sock it to Granny Panties this morning.

I was up every three hours with the baby last night, so when I had to wake up for the morning, I was not a happy camper. I was tired as heck, and no amount of ABPs was going to do much on this day. We were running late, so of course that ups the stress-o-meter significantly. We finally hop in the car and Kaylee proceeds to scream the entire way to church. It was a bit much.

Now, let me add that although the seasons are changing, it's still pretty nice outside. Dennis and I didn't wear our coats, but it probably would have been a good idea for Kaylee.

Well, we pull into our spot at church and it hits me. Somewhere in the chaos of getting ready for church, we failed to bring a blanket or a coat for Kaylee. Of course I feel terrible. What kind of an unprepared mother am I, going anywhere in November with my child and no blanket or coat in tow? Deep down, I knew it wasn't a huge deal because it really wasn't too chilly - she'd be just fine getting from the car to the church, but it still didn't stop the Mommy Guilt from showing up.

Before I got out, I muttered to Dennis - something to the effect of, "Boy, I just can't wait to see the ladies at the entrance."

See, we've got these 2 ladies that are the greeters - they smile and shake your hand (and sometimes try to steal your baby) and give you a bulletin. One in particular always has something to say, and she really needs to get a grip on herself. (A few weeks back it was windy and I forgot to pack a hat for the baby. I didn't hear the end of it from her... "That baby needs a hat!" "Put something on that poor baby's head!" Blah, Blah, Blah...).

I'm walking very briskly to the entrance (with my non-jacket-wearing-not-covered-with-a-blanket-child) because the sooner I get to the bathroom and whip out the magic booby, the sooner my child quits screaming and the ringing in my ears will finally stop. I do my best to avoid eye contact with Granny Panties, but it was to no avail.

She puts her hands up and covers her mouth as if she's just witnessed a puppy being murdered right before her very eyes and says, "Oh my goodness! It's not summer! That baby needs a jacket!" This followed by such a look on her face as if to convey that I'm the world's worst mother. I just keep walking and say, "Yep, it was a crazy morning."

I make my way to the bathroom, where I am tickled pink to see that the extra-large stall at the end is EMPTY, and that's a good thing because I smuggled a chair into that stall about a month ago so I didn't have to nurse my baby while sitting on the crapper.

I lock the stall door behind me, sink into the chair, get out brunch for the baby, and I just about lost it. I got that feeling you get from your head to your toes when you're about to cry. But, I blinked back the tears. It was only 9:30 a.m. and I'd already had it up to my ears.

Normally, I let people's comments roll off pretty easily, but for some reason, I couldn't do it so well this morning. Seriously. What did this lady take me for, a dumbass? I know it's not summer. It's the middle of freaking November, woman. I know my child needs a coat. Somewhere between the middle of the night feedings, the bowl of instant oatmeal and the diaper blowout this morning, I managed to forget it. Sue me.

I was so thankful that no one came into the bathroom while we were in there this morning. I needed the peace and quiet. I needed to try and collect myself, and I don't think I could have done it as well if I heard the usual church lady gossip, flushing toilets, the clicking of high heels, and people's attempts to quiet their bathroom farts that always end up getting amplified by the toilet anyway.

I waited a good 5 minutes after Kaylee was done before I got up to leave. I figured that since we were late getting to church in the first place, certainly Granny Panties would be done greeting people and she'd have found her seat in the church by now. Surely we'd be safe to exit the bathroom and venture into the lobby.

Not on this day. There she looms in front of us. I walk slowly toward the entrance to the sanctuary, hoping against all hope that she will let us by without opening her mouth. Nope. She turns around, this time with a condescending smile on her face and says, "Now...that baby needs a sweater or something today." I just kept walking and looked straight ahead as I walked past her and said, "I already feel bad enough that I forgot it." I hope she got the point because you better believe that I had some other things I wanted to say instead. But, I was in church. And, I'm a nice person.

But it still didn't stop me from fuming about it. Pretty much all day long, in fact. So much that my poor husband had to deal with Ice Queen again. He let me vent about it some more, and, after a while, Ice Queen went back to her castle on Ice Island, hopefully for a long time. I am kicking myself that I let her stupid comments get to me so bad. Ever since I got pregnant, I've been no stranger to unsolicited advice, so it should have been no surprise. I don't know why it was so hard for me today, but I am thankful that I had my quiet little church bathroom stall to have a miniature breakdown in today.

I think I'll pass on delivering the knuckle sandwich next week. Giving gifts is Christian, but I don't think it'd be too Christian-y to give such a violent gift. And now that I think about it, the nice tall glass of shut the hell up probably wouldn't be a good idea, either. At least not on church grounds. So, I think I'm going to wrap this up and give it to her.

I'll tell her it should be an effective over-the-counter treatment for her diarrhea of the mouth until she is able to have her doctor prescribe her something a bit stronger.

Feel free to share any entertaining and irritating unsolicited advice you may have received - let's commiserate...