Just saw the craziest thing. There was a woman walking on the sidewalk down XYZ Road with a stroller and – get this – NO KID. I mean, hello? Is this a thing now?
His post was greeted with a bunch of “WTH?” and “crazy woman” replies.
He was firmly entrenched in single white malehood, and with that perspective what he saw made no sense.
I, on the other hand, was also firmly entrenched. I was firmly entrenched in the early years of mothering, so my reply to his Facebook status went something like this:
You know that big church on XYZ Road? Well, it’s more than a big church. It’s also the site of a huge preschool program. You posted this at noon, which is right when half-day preschool programs tend to end. She isn’t crazy. She was taking her empty stroller to pick up her kid. I promise, right now, that stroller has a toddler in it going home with mama to eat some lunch.
Today, I was that crazy woman. Two twentysomething doctors in their scrubs barreling down my street in a fancy car craned their necks to watch me pushing my empty stroller on the way to preschool pickup.
I wonder if they posted about me to Facebook.
And, I wonder how many times what looks like “crazy” to me is more a reflection of what I don’t know than what I do.
Because you don’t know what you don’t know, you know?