Mama Karma

If there is one thing I've learned since having kids is to never say "I'd never".  All it takes is one off-handed comment--along the lines of "I'd never feed my children McDonald's!"--for you to find yourself on a lonely stretch of road with a screaming, starving child and nothing but the Golden Arches or Doublemint gum as dinner options.  Suddenly, McNuggets start to look pretty damn healthy and you look like an ass.



Anytime I start to criticize a mother (shameful, but it happens!) I stop myself because I know what's coming.



I call it Mama Karma and I've learned to respect it.



Let's say I'm at the park and some kid starts to cry because they don't want to share the sandbox.  I mean, come on!  You're at the park, right?  Before my eyes are done with the involuntary eye rolling, guess who's kid starts screaming because a baby touched him and THE WIND!  IT IS BLOWING! WAAA!



Karma.  Right.



I think most of us have experienced this, and this is why the people who tend to hold doors open for me when I'm pushing a stroller and trying to balance a huge bag and a coffee are other mothers (or fathers!) pushing strollers.  Because they know.  We have to watch out for each other.