Mean Girls

Mean Girls
Being an almost 30 year old woman, I’ve dealt with my share of mean girls. Sometimes I let rude comments roll off my back and don’t say a word. Sometimes I am quick to speak my mind. Most times I can’t think of anything to say and spend the next three days coming up with quirky things I could have said that I didn’t.
When I was pregnant, I heard a ton of stupid rude comments. One woman insisted that I must have been pregnant for two years because I was “so huge” and that I “must be carrying quadruplets”. Very reassuring since I was so self-conscious about the way I looked. At the time I told her that I wasn’t due for another month and that I knew that I was big. It’s a far cry from what I would have said if I had time to prepare. What I wish I said was “It’s really none of your business when I’m due and it’s extraordinarily rude that you would insinuate that I’m having four babies”. Okay, that’s not true. If I had to do it again, I would swear at her. A lot of curses. Four letter ones.
I thought the mean girls would end once I became a Mommy. I realized that this was not true the night I went to pick up Chinese food. Carrying my forty pound purse, my twenty pound kid, and about two tons of Chinese food, the oriental woman at the register kept staring at me, then at Hayden. Finally she says (insert Chinese accent here) “You baby don’t look like you. You sure she your baby?”. Really, I thought. “Yes, she’s my baby” I answered. “Maybe mix up at hospital?” Was this lady kidding? “No, no mix up at hospital.” “She look like her Daddy? Does she have Daddy?”- I just took my food and left. Why do women think its okay to say things like that? I haven’t been back to that restaurant since.
Now, I’ve also learned that there are no age restrictions on mean girls. Hayden would only allow me to go grocery shopping if she was safely secured in her hot pink Baby Bjorn. I would get the occasional stare or the “how cute” comments. It was the only way I could grocery shop. One day I spotted a crazy old lady following me around the store. She was old, really old. White hair, crouched over, hobbling along. At first I thought it was in my head that this woman was following me. I started in the produce aisle and made it all the way to the frozen foods. There she was. Staring. I could tell she was waiting to say something, but I couldn’t figure out what her deal was. I made the mistake of opening the freezer door to grab some ice cream. How else do you get ice cream with a baby strapped to your chest? Apparently, this was her chance. I felt her bony little fingers tap me on my back. I turned around. She looked at me and says “I don’t think it’s the best idea to put your baby in the freezer”. I told her I wasn’t “putting my baby in the freezer”, I was just grabbing my ice cream quickly. “She’s going to get sick if you carry her around like that and put her in the grocery freezer”. I just smiled and walked off to check out. What do you say to a crazy old lady? Mind your own business?
So there are many mean girls out there. They come in all shapes and sizes. What I wasn’t ready for was Hayden’s first encounter with a mean girl. We were at a children’s museum and it was Hayden’s first time there. I had her crawling all around the toddler room and she was having an absolute blast. She was staring at all of the kids with her big brown eyes and smiling left and right. There was a large fake tree with a cubby hole at the bottom for the kids to play in. Hayden giggled and screamed all the way over to it. She crawled right in and I crouched down to watch her go inside. In the cubby hole was a small girl. She had to be about three years old. The little girl looked at Hayden and yelled “Get out of here baby! No babies allowed!” I held in my breath. I was not ready for this. I looked at Hayden and she flashed this little brat a huge one tooth smile. It melted my heart. The little girl snarled at her and says “You’re just a stupid little baby. Why are you smiling at me? I’m not your friend” Hayden burst out laughing. My face must have turned a deep red. I didn’t know what to do. I swept her up in my arms and looked down at the brat. I can’t even write what I was thinking about saying to this girl. How dare she speak that way to my little girl. Granted Hayden is an angry little diva but she was being good and she deserved to be there just as much as this kid. Then I scanned the room for this girl’s mother- but even if I could figure out who she was, what would I say? Your kid sucks? I don’t think grown up Mommy’s tell other Mommy’s that their kid sucks. So I didn’t do anything. I brought Hayden over to another corner where she played nicely with another baby her age.
So, as usual I didn’t speak my mind. I guess its better that way. My main goal is to teach Hayden how not to be a mean girl. More importantly, I want to teach her to not care what others say about her. But I swear, if I see that girl one more time…
Thanks for letting me vent.