Pigs In A Blanket

My kids take cooking and science classes every Wednesday at the Gilbert Parks and Rec., McQueen Center. Warren usually meets me there for lunch as the kids rotate through their classes and play games in between.

There's this cute little twenty something gal that works as a "coordinator" there. Her job is to make sure that everyone stays in line and to check out the game equipment like pool balls and sticks, ping pong paddles and balls, etc. She's pregnant with her first, I heard her telling someone. I'd say she's about 7 months along.

She's not always there. In fact me and the kids don't like it when she's there. She only checks certain game equipment to the younger kids. She looks at me sideways when I give Dane a bottle, or let the kids eat a granola bar in the gameroom. You see, "There are no food and drinks allowed!" She is always watching, waiting for one of us moms with five million kids to screw something up, or to spill our water bottles on the indoor/outdoor carpet.

Today, Preston exited class, proudly presented his Pigs In A Blanket meal that he had made, and then promptly dropped in on the floor. I just knew she was watching. I asked him to quickly pick it up (5 second rule) as I caught eyes with her. She looked at me with half-closed eyes and a grin which really means, "You are an idiot with very messy, unruly children." I smiled back and we left.

As I made the drive home, I wondered why the cute, pregnant coordinator didn't bother me more. Why didn't I feel the urge to tell her to just relax, or quit watching my every move?

But, I do know why.

Cute, pregnant coordinator doesn't know yet. She doesn't know that the 10 pack of onsies at Target is WAY better than the $49.00 outfits she's getting as gifts right now. She doesn't know that crying isn't really crying until your baby hits the 20 minute mark. She doesn't know about getting pooped on, thrown up on, or having your baby rub his snotty face right on the shoulder of your favorite shirt. She doesn't know about not sleeping for days because your kid has R.S.V. She doesn't even know that in a few months she will no longer have the luxory of eating, going to the bathroom, or showering by herself. She doesn't know how humbling it is to be literally brought to your knees when one of your precious babies has a serious problem. And, she especially doesn't know the joy that comes as your 6-yr-old proudly displays his Pigs In A Blanket, even if he drops it on the floor.

She just doesn't know yet.

Soon enough she will know, and those sideways smirks will turn into understanding smiles as the fog is lifted. And, as I drove, I was just so thankful to already know.