Judging Me, Judging You
I am in the east valley of Phoenix, Arizona (Gilbert, to be precise). This is where my parents and my sister and her husband and children live. I love the desert. I wish that I still lived here. This visit I am on my own with our two (relatively) new children. Mis and I are adopting two little boys, B, a 3 1/2 year old and A, a 22 month old. This is the first time I have taken the two boys on a trip by myself. We took a plane from Providence, RI (TF Green Airport) to Phoenix, Arizona, a flight lasting a little over five hours.
We arrived early enough, although I had to return to the house twice after we got about a block away because I forgot first, my sunglasses and second, my money. Anyway, once we got going, the trip to Providence was uneventful. We arrived at the parking facility and the folks there were very nice and accommodating, getting my bags loaded in the shuttle before I even was able to get both kids out of the car.
Then, we arrived at the airport and the cumbersome shuffling began, although many folks were quite helpful when I was checking the bags in and organizing the children. I have a two seat stroller and I had A strapped into his carseat and the carseat in the top part of the stroller. B was riding in the stroller. I had four carry-ons -- mine, the essentials for the children, B's and A's. It was quite a load. As we reached the security checkpoint, the judging began. Fortunately, we arrived quite early and there was no line at security. Unfortunately, I am usually pretty bad at getting myself through security, as I carry a lot of electronic equipment so that I can work (computer, hard disk, camera). I always set off some sort of flag and one of my bags is inevitably identified as one to be checked for gunpowder residue (or whatever that machine with the little swatch of cloth does).
This time, I had to disassemble the stroller (it has to go through the x-ray machine), fold something on the car seat so that it will go through the x-ray machine, get the kids' shoes off, jackets off, my shoes off, jacket off and send the four bags through, as well. Then, I have to get a 22 month old to go through the doorway detector without touching the sides, then the 3 1/2 year old through without touching the sides, then walk though myself and then try to capture the children. It took me about 20 minutes to reassemble the stroller, strap the kid in, put both kids' shoes back on and my own. Before we could leave, however, two of my bags had to be hand searched because I forgot to take the laptop out of my bag and there was a large hard disk in another bag. Once everyone was certain that I and my two children were not a threat, I began to try to get everything together so that we could head to the gate. In the end, the adventure at the security check point took about thirty minutes.
Finally, the stroller was loaded up. The carseat was lodged in the stroller. A child was strapped into the carset. I had one bag with rolling wheels and my giant metropolis chrome messenger bag. A friend of mine once stated, "have you ever noticed that all moms carry big purses?" I thought this was quite funny and was silently thankful that I would never be a big-purse carrying, stereotypical mom. When I decided to bring my metropolis messenger bag, then started packing diapers, wipes and sippy cups in it, I realized that I had not actually escaped the "big purse carrying mom" stereotype that I so feared. In fact, I am just living the dyke version.
Anyway, I was carrying a lot, pushing a stroller and my poor older son had A's bag on his back (which was indeed a backpack) and was rolling his own cute little travel bag behind him. It was around this time that I became acutely aware that people around me were openly judging me. I have noticed that this is a phrase that is offered often in popular parlance: 'stop judging me' or 'I know you're judging me.' Okay, I am not entirely sure whether it is circulating heavily, but I have one particular student who makes me laugh with this one quite often. I realized this was not funny, but actually happening. Or maybe it was still funny, but actually happening. Yeah, still funny, although odd.
Prior to becoming an instant mom, I traveled quite a lot on my own. I used to dread being seated next to children. I also dreaded being seated next to an overweight person, a person who smelled bad, or a person who wanted to have a conversation with me. However, I solved all of these worries with a simple, yet not cheap, purchase: Bose Noise Canceling headphones. They are worth every penny and I never hear anything that goes on during a flight except what is playing on my iPhone. That is, until I acquired a couple of kids. Now I cannot use the headphones as I actually have to pay attention to the noise my children make.
Now, I have a big mom purse substitute and people dread sitting next to me. My therapist once said to me that "our society hates children." I now know what he meant. It is unfortunate and a bit sad. Kids are cool. Parents sometimes are not, but you cannot blame that on the kids.