I am new to the stay at home mom game but I am learning. I saw mothers (and some fathers) flocking to the library on Friday mornings. It occurred to me that perhaps there was some parent friendly shindig a foot. A quick internet check confirmed my suspicions. Mother Goose and More. The next Friday I joined the drove. I will tell you right now I was not prepared for this experience. I arrived a little later than I had anticipated thanks to a little miscommunication between me and my son. Namely, no pooping right before we are walking out the door. He hopefully is in the know now about this fopau. This nearly caused me not to make it to the library that morning at all. Alas, I pushed my stroller into the lobby and looked around. There was nary a stroller in sight, not like the crowd I had witnessed before. This prompted me to approach the costumer service desk. The man behind the desk was busily typing away. I know how it is when you are trying to type and are interrupted. One looses their train of thought and that is annoying. I waited a little longer and then I noticed him break and get back to typing. Now I didn’t want to derail his train but once it got to the next station, I expected some attention. Although I already knew I was standing under a sign that said ‘customer service,’ I took a step back to look at it while ever so slightly clearing my throat. This was to gently let him know that we both knew where I was standing. When he got the next pause he acknowledged me.
His eyes were slightly glossed over and when I asked about the Mother Goose and More time, he pointed me in the right direction. As walked down the hall to the children’s section, the noise level increased and when I turned the corner I was in a stroller parking lot. It is then that things started happening fast and I realized and sympathized with the glossed over appearance of the librarian. His ‘quiet please’ nerves were likely frayed.
I was shuffled to the wall by what can only be described as the stroller parking attendant. I parked my stroller alongside the many others and got in the massive line of parents and babies waiting to enter a large room. Little Man seemed to look at me as if to ask why we had gotten here so late as to be at the end of this massive line. Other parents, professionals, seemed to look at me as if to say, amateur, look how late she got here. I want to counter their looks with, ‘but he pooped as we were walking out the door.’ To this they would scoff, ‘don’t tell me about poop, tell me about a simultaneous poop and spit up fest requiring a full wardrobe change and we were still on time.’ Their hair is wet like they just jumped out of the shower, but they are there. To this I shake my head in shame and Little Man looks towards the wall.
I am standing next to a sweet looking blonde mom and her daughter. She makes small talk as we wait. She is on my side because standing behind her means she won’t be the last person in line any longer. We could be friends.
We are soon ushered in to the room we are waiting to get into. The ‘bouncer’ is directing us to place our diaper bags on the table and handing out egg shakers and scarves. When she gets to me I put my hand out to take the egg shaker. She shakes her head. He is probably too young for the shaker, you can have the scarf. I will not argue. I have realized my limitations too many times already today. If we are giving off some kind of indication that the shaker is beyond us, who am I to disagree. I find a seat on the ground near the friendly blonde. We start to chat baby. I have found that having a baby gives you an in with anyone else who also has a baby.
Soon a woman walks out with a headset microphone on. Very Janet Jackson. She approaches the front and asks for quite, no flash photography, participation, and no pacifiers. A hush falls over the crowd. Her serious face breaks into a grin and her voice shoots up three octaves. She asks if we know who is here today. I don’t know but the air is thick with anticipation. Then, from out of nowhere, a giant white goose puppet appears on her arm. Mother Goose! I should have guessed. The crowd goes wild. I couple of songs and rhymes go down with the goose. Then she asks if we know who else is here. I really have no idea. Another puppet appears and more singing and rhyming, even some killer dance moves. Oh yes, it might be the mother goose that brings them in, but it’s the ‘and more’ that keeps them thirsty.
After this experience I head for my stroller. It just so happens that the blonde I met earlier and I are parked alongside each other. We check out each other’s wheels and exchange numbers. When you get a girl’s number, how long do you wait to call? Is it bad to be the first to call? Anyway, I look forward to trying this out again. I’m hooked on the goose.
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