Grand Pianos, Handicapped Sass & My Tara Reid Moment

I neglected by blogging duties yesterday because I had a domesticly packed day of cleaning, cooking, and getting ready for my kiddo’s spring sing!  Ah the spring sing…a chance for parents to pack together like cattle in a hot and poorly ventilated OR freezing cold and over airconditioned (depending on the venue) auditorium and listen to their kids croon away songs that kids have been singing at spring sings for generations. 

We had no more sat down and little guy needed a change.  I hopped up and headed off to find a proper place…guess what…college music dept bathrooms apparently do not come equipt with changing tables.  I looked for a place with some chairs that was somewhat private (I am not a fan of babies junk being out all over the place with a ton of people around!) and of course came up empty handed…untilllllllll I walked past a room that was open and empty.  I ducked into it, and there was NOTHING to change him on…except a big old black grand piano.  The former pianist in me (10 1/2 years of lessons…quit 15 years ago and can still play quite well) cringed at the thought of changing a baby on such a beautiful instrument.  But the mom in me, said “Screw these guys…they can’t provide a place for someone to change a baby?!” and went for it!  Half way through Moose started to giggle…high class baby…grand piano changing table!

I got back to the seat just in time to hear a guy ask one of my mothers-in-law to move my diaper bag off my seat.  I stood back and listened as she said, “I’m sorry, someone is sitting here.” 

The guy INSTANTLY got an attitude and spat back, “No, there’s a bag sitting there!”

My mother-in-law very politely stated, “She just ran to change her baby, she will be right back…actually, there she is right behind you.”

The guy didn’t even turn around and look at me.  He said, “Well, I’m handicapped and need to sit down.”
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Now I am all about helping out those in need.  At 6 months pregnant (and I was a BIG 6 months pregnant) in 100 degree weather and 90% humidity after walking around Disney World ALL DAY with swollen feet, I got out of my seat on the monorail to let an elderly lady sit down.  I’m not an asshole.  But I had just followed this guy into the auditorium and he had no limp, no cane/walker/etc, and wreaked of booze.  Not to say that he was lying, but he definitely didn’t APPEAR to be handicapped.

Mother-in-law very sweetly said “I’m sorry, I …” and before she could finish her statement…AND before I could step up and say “No problem, Moose is fussy so I am probably just going to stand anyway,” which was exactly what I was going to say…this guy yells, “Well APPARENTLY being FUCKING handicapped doesn’t FUCKING mean a thing anymore!” 

Without missing a beat I looked at him and said, “Maybe not, but being an asshole does!  And being handicapped doesn’t give you a right to BE an asshole.”

My mother-in-law’s jaw dropped.  Yeah…I only LOOK innocent and sweet.  My mom, sitting a few seats down, snickered and shook her head.  She knows me.  She knew long before I opened my mouth that I wouldn’t stay quiet and let this guy cuss out anyone with me.  I guarantee you, if my husband had been sitting down at that end of the row, the guy wouldn’t have said 2 words to us…but that’s neither here nor there. 

The guy backed off and sat down on the ground.  ON THE GROUND…sending me into a state of stupor and confusion and shattering my image of the handicapped.  I never did sit back down in the seat.  And the guy never did either. 

The show started and the guy ended up walking a few rows down and sitting in an empty seat.  The songs were cute and the kids were doing a great job.  No tripping, only a few ‘baby waves’, and the typical little girl who shoves other kids out of the way and curtseys 100 times.

Then there is the always anticipated recorder concert event!  This year, I had a child involved in the recorder concert!  OH JOY!  For months we have heard her working away at it in her bedroom-practicing.  I expected it to be far more painful to listen to than it was-the kid’s pretty good at recorder!  Not 2 seconds into the recorder song at the show last night, my 3 month old started to WAIL.  My sentiments exactly!  I was more than happy to take him for a little walk at the entrance to the auditorium…but we stayed where we could see…you absolutely can NOT miss a performance like this and get away with it!

After the recorder event, the fussing got worse and we took a walk out in the lobby.  The handicapped guy had made his way out there.  Believe it or not, he apologized.  His girlfriend ‘googoo gaga’d’ over the baby for a few minutes and I walked over to talk to a mom I recognized.  Big mistake!

I knew this woman was…a little off…as some would put it.  The 2 times I have spoken to her before, neither lasting more than 2 minutes; were a mind boggling bombardment of information about her son, how screwed up her life and her marriage are, and the fact that the school labeled her son as a bad kid and “persecutes him” (I hate that term.  99% of the time anyone who uses that term in any context other than talking about Jesus Christ himself, is straight up full of shit).  Today she decided to tell me all about her son’s birth and how he “ruined her”.  Suffice it to say, that after 6 minutes of my head spinning, desperately trying to find a reason to walk away, and having to overcome the urge to poke myself in the eye…I walked away knowing the gory details of birthing her devil spawn and the subsequent 3 years of contractions and her eventual hysterectomy.  I kid you not.  This woman who I have met for a grand total of 4 minutes prior to last night…shared her entire medical history with me.  #1 totally unnecessary and #2 ewww.

Finally as she went into her next story I got my excuse to leave!  I was wearing a black stretchy shirt with a very deep scooped cowl neck-the kind that shows a ton of cleavage.  Mistake #1.  Who wears something like that with an infant in arms?!?

(insert my desire to NOT be so domestic…you will never catch me in mom jeans with frump butt and a sweater vest of any kind.  HELL NO & Thank you!  I prefer to remain sexy in my husband’s eyes!)

So, my wonderful little man provided me (just as 2 dads I know from the school walked by) with a straight up, no bullshit, anything but subtle Tara Reid moment!  HELLO BOOBIE!  I guess it wasn’t TOTALLY a TR moment-I was wearing a bra, and thankfully one of the same color as my shirt, but that wasn’t enough to stop some eyebrows from being raised by dad #1as Hysterectomy Mom says “Oh, I think your kid is hungry!”

Awesome!  Just awesome!  The kid is bottle fed, has been from day one pretty much, but she didn’t know that, so I took the opening and excused myself. 

After the show I filled my husband in on everything.  The major sass from the ‘handicapped’ guy, who’s level of handicapability I still question…the medical history on evil boy’s mom…and the amazing flashing of a few parents.  He got a kick out of it…said its unfortunate that he missed the latter.

We collected the kids, hugged the grandparents good-bye and headed off for the night.  But not before I got a crack in the backside and wink from my husband who smiled that devilishly handsome smile and said “Hottest mom here…hands down!”  Aww!

The moral of the story:  men love a woman who can stand up for herself, keep her infant calm, be there to support her kids, flash some dads, and maintain her integrity and poise while doing it all!  And THAT’S how it’s done ladies!  One more school event finished…one more story to tell…one more moment of fighting that domesticity and coming up shining!

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~ by Not Yer Bitch on March 10, 2010.

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