Chapter Seven: To the Lady in the Kohls

“We will learn that each of us is precious to our Elder Brother, even the Lord Jesus Christ. He truly loves us. His life is the flawless example of one afflicted with sorrows and disappointments, who nonetheless provided the example of forgetting self and serving others.”
-Thomas S. Monson

We live in a world of shrinking families. I remember carrying my two small boys off the airplane when I moved to Illinois. My husband was driving the moving truck, so my dad decided to fly with me and Ryan and Sean. At the time, Ryan was a little over a year and Sean was only three months. Dad walked over to the bathroom for a moment. I sat down on a bench with the kids. Naturally, I’d been somewhat conspicuous on the plane and I tried my best to simply sink into the scenery. Though I recognize it was probably unfair, I always imagined that the thoughts behind those curious stares that strangers always seemed to direct at me were accusing and condescending.
One woman walked over with a conspicuous smile and said, “Good for you for standing up for families.” I stared after her as she walked away, absolutely perplexed. She was clearly a kind woman and her statement seemed completely sincere. But I only had two kids! Two children certainly isn’t many. Perhaps she said it because they were so close together? Nevertheless, the comment cemented my assurance that I was a freak, particularly in Chicago.

Jump back to nearly two years later. Chloe was approaching three months of age and already growing out of many of her small clothes. My mom had bought her a beautiful little dress that was size 0-3 months and Chloe still hadn’t worn it. Mom had also bought me a lovely suit to wear. It was symbolic, though mom had never said so. I am not a businesswoman, and I only dress up for church, but my mom understood well the difficulty I had adjusting to being an at-home mom. She also remembered how I would proudly wear my suit all day on tournament days when I was in high school and college. I loved feeling pressed and professional. So mom’s contribution to my third baby in three years was to try to convey that I was still the girl I had always been, that I could still feel good about myself. Well, the suit didn’t fit and mom had called me several times just to ask if I’d exchanged it yet.

Nate was firmly entrenched in end of semester dealings at school and I knew that returning the suit and dress would involve taking all three kids to the mall by myself. I continued putting it off. It was my mom that finally convinced me to pull myself together and just do it. I knew what it meant to her that I have her gift.

I received a call one night reminding me of playgroup the following day at a McDonald’s. The kids hadn’t been out of the house, except on Sundays, for weeks, so I determined to get up and take them to the playgroup. I also packed up my returns, so I could take them back. It all made sense in my mind. McDonald’s wasn’t far from the mall. It was a fateful decision that I never should have made.

My first mistake was deciding against the double stroller. Once before Chloe was born, I had taken the boys in the stroller only to spend the whole time fighting to keep them sitting while they insisted that they could walk. It would be easier, I reasoned, to not mess with that huge stroller and just take each boy by the hand. Furthermore, the stroller had a pull to the right and it got tedious trying to maneuver it. I imagined pushing it would be much worse with Chloe in a snuggly strapped to my chest. The logic was sound and had advantages. After all, getting three small children out of car seats was enough of a challenge without having to mess with a stroller. I should have remembered the advantage of having the storage space, because I ended up carrying my returns in a bag that became a nuisance. It, however, was the least of my worries.

I parked in front of the Kohl’s store so that I could take the suit back first and then walk to The Children’s Place and exchange the dress. I admit that I hadn’t done my homework and had no idea that the two stores were on opposite sides of a legendarily huge mall. Things went wrong right away. I managed to put the baby in her carrier and get both the boys out of the old blue suburban without one of them running into the street and getting hit by a car. Kudos to me. There is rarely a driving experience where I don’t have a horrific vision of Sean flying through the air. He thinks its funny how mom always freaks out when he heads for the road and he likes to laugh. Enough said.

I think I must have looked so adorable with my two-year-old holding my right hand, my three-year-old holding my left, and the baby strapped to my chest. The bag with my returns was looped around one pinky until I got into the store. I realized right away that I wasn’t talented enough to keep a good hold on the bag and Sean’s hand. And Sean had decided that he didn’t want to hold mommy’s hand. So I was struggling with him while he wiggled like a worm, trying to break loose.
Once I had made my way to the door I picked Sean up in one arm so I could use the force of my body to push the doors open without worrying that he was going to escape. The minute we actually got inside the store, my sweet little Sean ran into the clothes. So I looked absolutely ridiculous trying to catch him by weaving my way through the racks of clothes. Whenever I got close enough to almost catch him, he would laugh and run to the next rack. Suddenly, it occurred to Ryan that Sean was having all the fun, while he behaved. Ryan started to make that obnoxious wrist twisting motion that every parent knows, in an attempt to free himself.

I was not about to let them start tag teaming me, so I grabbed, Ryan’s hand tighter and told him that he was way too big to be running off. I got serious about catching Sean and cornered him before he could get away. Holding the two of them, I walked over to the customer service desk. The polite woman behind the desk gave me a pitying look and said, “Well you certainly have your hands full.” I tried to smile as if I was truly amused, but it was difficult.

By the grace of God, there was a pay phone next to the returns counter. I was careful not to make eye contact with any of the other customers. I didn’t want to endure the stares that clearly said, “Why don’t you make your children behave.” I let Sean play on the payphone, despite the scandalized looks and silently prayed he would not find, against all odds, the numbers “911.”

With the suit gone, it was a relief to have one less thing to carry. I slipped the gift card into my wallet, fully aware that I’d probably never be able to use it. After all, that would require a trip to the mall. I had decided, then and there, to give those up.

If I had more common sense than I do, I would have given up just then. A smarter woman would have recognized her own limits and walked back to the car. But I still had the little dress in a bag, now looped around my wrist. Sean had been reasonably obedient during the return, since I never tried to tell him to do or stop anything. I reasoned that I had done half my task and there was no point in turning back. After all, the biggest difficulty is getting kids in and out of car seats, right?

We proceeded out of the Kohls and down the wide mall corridor with everything going reasonably well. Sean refused to hold my hand, but I didn’t mind. He was heading the right direction and since my legs were longer, I was able to keep up, even while dragging Ryan. We must have looked silly, because I was walking fairly fast to keep up, but that just meant we would get there faster. Sean would occasionally dart into a store to hide from me, but he always seemed to come out when I got closer. He was enjoying the game. Pretty soon, however, I became concerned that we had walked so far without finding the store I was looking for.

I looked ahead to the next turn in the corridor and told myself that if we hadn’t found “The Children’s Place” by the time we got to it, I would turn around and go home. But each time we got to the end of the hallway, I reasoned that it was probably just a few stores down and I would feel really dumb if I gave up when I was so close. So we continued walking.

When I finally made it to the store I was searching for, I got my first good news. It was spring time and, being an outlet store, all of the winter stuff was on sale. It was truly an amazing sale. I noticed several things right away that I wanted to buy for my baby to wear when fall came. I should not have let myself be distracted. The minute I did, Sean wiggled his hand free and took off. Somewhere in the back of my mind I registered that he was free, but I dismissed the thought, hoping I could wait 15 seconds to look down and be sure he wasn’t destroying. It was a great error in judgment. No more than 10 seconds later, I glanced down to see my son and realized he was gone.

Despite the fact that this was a very small store, it was a great place for hiding. All of the cheap winter clothes were pushed close together on too many racks for the small space. I frantically looked for Sean. It shouldn’t have been so hard. He always left a path of destruction. I looked for fallen clothes, accessories thrown off shelves and disgusted glares by other customers.

I may have been able to find him with my eyes closed by simply following the sound of condescending quips of, “My, you certainly have your hands full.” Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think the worst of friendly strangers just taken off guard by someone with a million babies and expressing their surprise as well as they knew how. It’s just that in such stressful circumstances I heard the, “What are you trying to do, repopulate the world single-handedly” and “It’s so irresponsible to have more kids than you can care for” that probably weren’t behind most people’s comments, but undoubtedly were behind a few.

Let me explain, my brother went through a phase where he insisted on wearing cowboy boots and hats, despite the fact that he had never ridden a horse. I noticed that people started speaking slowly to him. I don’t believe it’s right to judge someone by the way they look. However, I recognize that you cannot universalize that principle. People will make instant judgments on you and there is nothing you can do about it. Therefore, if you want people to think that you are intelligent, you should look/act like you are. I had made that into a science. It is absolutely impossible to look classy, smart or in control with three small children. Most people automatically assume that you’re lower class when you have a large family. After all, intelligent people know how to prevent that.

My search for Sean brought me to a corner of the store where an assortment of rubber duckies had once been neatly arranged on the shelves. They weren’t any longer. I quickly decided to give up on the idea of doing any shopping today and just find the dress I wanted to exchange. After enlisting the help of both boys to put the ducks back, I walked over to the section where I was certain I would find the size I wanted. I was absolutely delighted to realize that the dress was now only half price. Even more delightful was the realization that the only size they had left was the size I already had. With a sigh, I decided to just go home.

But Sean was lost again. A lady toward the opening of the store saw me looking confused and lost. She pointed out into the corridor. I ran. Sean was already halfway down the hall. I had to run faster to catch up. So there I was, running down the mall with Chloe bouncing along on my chest and Ryan scurrying beside me. When I finally caught Sean, I trapped him in the space between two stores. The display windows went a little into the walkway and so there was a spot between them where I pushed Sean. He giggled madly until he realized that he was trapped and then he started screaming.

I was careful not to turn around toward the traffic. There was nothing I wanted less than for people to see my face while they walked wide of the crazy lady with all those children. When I had finally calmed him down, I made him promise to hold my hand. He refused. I informed him we wouldn’t be leaving where we were until he promised. He started screaming again. Finally, he promised to take my hand.

We’d gone less than ten steps before he started to twist his wrist again and I had to maneuver him back to the side of the walkway, where I could trap him until I had another promise. We did that a few times before we actually got anywhere. When it finally appeared as if we might make it to the end of a hallway without having to stop for another promise to behave, disaster struck.

Just ahead of us, in an open area, there was a display of playground equipment. Sean saw it from a mile away. In one swift motion, he picked his feet up off the floor and twisted his hand so he dropped to the floor. Before I even realized what had happened he was halfway up a latter leading to a clubhouse with slide. I ran to catch him. The slide had been blocked off by a wooden bar across the entrance so that children couldn’t play on it. Sean simply squished himself beneath the wooden bar so he could slide down. An extremely angry security guard made it there the same time I did. The man spluttered, “You can’t…but …don’t.”

I grabbed my two year old and rushed away from the security guard’s scowl. I felt so humiliated. I wondered what percentage of the people in the mall today would hurry home to their loved ones to tell stories of the awful mother they’d seen today.

I sat Sean down on a bench and tried to make him promise to be good. He flat out refused. I felt like crying. We just had to make it to the car. So, I took Sean by the hand in a tight grip. He lifted his feet off the ground and attempted to twist his wrist. I was holding him too tightly this time, though, and ended up pulling him along while he whined.

We went on like that for a while. I could see Kohls and began to have some hope that the whole experience was finally almost over. At least, I thought it was. A young lady hanging on the arm of a man glanced over at me. I must have looked hilarious. I was holding Ryan’s hand, dragging a still-screaming Sean and wearing Chloe. The poor young woman gasped in horror and buried her head in her companion’s arm. Obviously she couldn’t stand the dreadfulness of what I was doing to the poor children.

I sank down on a bench and let go of the kids. Sean just laid there on the ground screaming. Ryan walked over to a display of mall maps. Where had those been when I was lost? I let him. I didn’t have the energy to care and he wasn’t hurting anything. I just stared at Sean.

Trying to cheer me up, Ryan brought me a map and said, “Here, Mommie, I got this for you.” I told him thank you. He must have decided that meant I needed more because be went back over to the display. The maps were sitting upright, like brochures in a doctor’s office. Ryan placed one hand on each side of the stack and picked them up. The one in front and the one in back stayed in his hands. The rest spread across the floor.

I ran over and started picking them up. It was quite an awkward task with the baby still in the carrier on my chest. Every time I reached forward, I thought she was going to fall out. Sean didn’t waver from his spot on the floor and all of the shoppers walked wide to avoid our little zoo.

In the end, I decided I would have to simply pull Sean along again. So we made our way into Kohls, but not much farther. Sean was flailing by this point. There was simply no chance I could keep a hold on him. He wiggled free and contented himself to lay in the middle of the isle, on his face, screaming. Completely helpless, I sat down on a mannequin platform and watched the fit. Ryan sat next to me. Chloe was asleep.

On the other side of the hallway a woman was shopping with a teenage girl and an older woman. She looked over at us and I stared fixedly at Sean. I didn’t want to hear how full my hands were or endure one more critical stare. I wanted to bawl. But instead of turning back to her own business, this woman made her way over to me and asked, “Can I help you?”

I wanted to say she couldn’t. I wanted to insist that I was a good mom and could handle my children all by myself. But, unable to think of anything clearly I just said, “Yes.”
She walked over to Sean and reached for him. When he jerked away from her she looked at me and asked, “Will he let me hold him?”

I blinked back tears and started to unhook the baby carrier. I pushed Chloe toward the stranger and asked, “Will you take the baby?” She gently took her and started walking to the exit, where my car was waiting. I scooped up Sean, took Ryan’s hand and hurried to take the lead.

Somewhere in all of this, I remember my rescuer’s own daughter calling for her, but this wonderful woman just assured the girl that she would be right back.

At the car, I put all the kids inside as quickly as I could, without bothering to strap them into the car seats and thanked the stranger. She didn’t even bother to say that I had my hands full. She just said, “No problem,” and went back into the store.

I climbed into the passenger seat of the suburban, pulled my knees to my chest and bawled in utter humiliation. This is not the way my life was meant to be! My sweet little Ryan seemed very confused about the whole thing. He crawled up into my lap. Putting one hand on each of my cheeks he looked into my eyes. His little lip quivered as if he would cry and he said, “Mommie, what’s wrong? What’s wrong?” And then, with a look of utter horror on his adorable face, he cried, “You lost your keys!” It made me laugh, and then start a desperate search for my keys. I still had them. Not everything went wrong.

I strapped my wonderful children into their seats. But before we started driving, I asked them to join me in a prayer. Together, we thanked Heavenly Father for each other and for the lady at Kohls. That day began a comforting tradition. From that time on, I have made it a habit to mumble, “Heavenly Father, thank you for Sean,” every time I feel my rambunctious child has got me at the end of my rope. I also vowed never to go to the mall again.