mothering is world healing work

I spent my day running lots of errands. I was away from Seattle for almost six weeks and I had a zillion things to tend to, to catch up. Normally I would conduct household errand chores throughout a month's time so it was unusual for me to stalk through the daytime world of household maintenance.

I was in several stores and service establishments, which all seemed full of females. Well, more females than males. And, maybe it was just me?, many of the women seemed to be tending young children. Pre-school children. School-aged children would be in school.

Trader Joe's was giving away samples of egg salad sandwiches. I overheard a little girl whining for a sample. "Let's take a close look at what they are giving away, honey," the mother said with love but also with a didactic pragmatism I recognized from raising my child.

The grocery store is rife with teaching opportunities. When my daughter was adjusting to the concept of numbers, for example, I might say "Would you like me to buy some apples?" And if she said yes, she'd like apples, I might say "We will buy as many apples as you can count." Then I would review 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, etc for a moment. And then Katie, my daughter, would begin to count. When we first started this game, we bought one apple. The second time, we bought more. Then, of course, there was the lesson of green, yellow, red apples. What color are bananas? Then, when she was sussing out the concept of reading, I would offer to buy the peanut butter if she could find it on the shelf. "Pah,pah! Pah,pah!" I would say as I tried to say the letter 'p' phonetically. I would show her a 'p', say 'pah,pah, pah, pah 'p' sounds like 'pah'' and she would search the store shelves for a 'pah'. Grocery stores with toddlers are a lot of fun.

So when I heard a mother ask her daughter to take a close look at the free samples, I was curious to overhear the lesson that was obviously underway. "Look closely," said the mother, to encourage her toddler daughter. "What do you see?"

"I see eggs! I can eat eggs!" the child chirped happily.

"Look some more," said the mother, a note of careful attention in her tone. I was eager to learn what the child was supposed to see.

"Bread. I see bread," the child said excitedly. "I can't have the sample because I can't eat the bread. It looks like wheat."

I was proud of this mother. I was happy on behalf of humanity that mothers (parents, all parents, of course, even the guys) love children and that mothers seek to teach their children with as much love and tenderness as they can muster. This mother in Trader Joe's could have said "You can't have the sample because you can't eat the bread." Instead, she invited the child to look at the world just a little more carefully. She invited her child to practice self care. Instead of feeling left out of the free sample, the little girl was proud that she had identified a food she could not eat.

I loved this mother and child in Trader Joe's this morning. And I loved the guy making the egg salad sandwiches just because he was standing there. Why not?!

Later, as I checked out of another store, another little girl in front of me was wailing, tears pouring down her cheeks profusely. It was an impressive display. Clearly, however, the little girl was getting herself worked up without being actually upset. I loved this little girl, who was wearing a princess crown and sash over her pink t-shirt and short pink skirt. She was obviously doted on by her mother (the crown and sash!) and she obviously wasn't really upset. She was mostly enjoying herself wailing and getting attention from many people in the front of the store.

"Is your mother tormenting you, honey?" I asked her as cheerfully as I could, to indicate that I knew nothing was REALLY wrong.

The little girl merely sniffed. Her mother sighed, happily, and said, "Oh, we are having a crisis. She can't remember where she left her royal bracelet!"

The checkout girl was humming her sympathy for the little girl. I clucked some more sympathy. The little girl sniffed on.

I loved all of these people, too.

On the way home, on the bus, it came to me that I had just witnessed the culture of love. Women's work is world work. Nurturing is world work. The world will be whole when everyone knows that.