I bent down to her. “Okay, Aubrey, go! Play.”
She sat up and stared out into the play area where other children were flailing on their backs and older babies were struggling to make their way up the small slide stairs.
She instantly burst into tears.
“Awww, Aubs,” David reached out his arms and pulled Aubrey into them. “Don’t cry, honey.” He pulled her close and pressed her face into his chest with his hand.
My heart fluttered as I watched the two great loves of my life embrace. Nobody can prepare you for the magic that is watching the man you love become a father. I found myself swooning every time I caught him gazing at Aubrey, feeding her or just cradling her in his arms.
A woman’s high-pitched voice cut through the moment. “She doesn’t socialize much, does she?”
I turned to the mom on my left. She was in her mid-thirties and was wearing dark blue jeans and a pink sweater. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun.
“What?” I said, looking around.
The mom crossed her arms. “Your daughter. She doesn’t spend much time with other kids, does she?”
My mouth hung open. I didn’t even know what to say.
“She doesn’t have many friends or coworkers, no...” I said slowly.
The woman smiled tightly. “Funny. But it’s not going to be funny when she’s eighteen and still living in your basement. Let me guess, stay-at-home mommy?”
I tried to smile back. “...Yes.”
The mom examined her nails. “I can tell. You’re really going to want to get her socialized ASAP.”
David, who had been listening quietly, cut in. “She’s a baby, not a dog.”
“David,” I whispered, trying to calm him down.
The woman pursed her lips. “I was just trying to help.” She collected her bag and walked away.
“The nerve of that woman,” David said when she walked away.
“David,” I hissed. “We’re here to have fun.”
“I know but—” He motioned in the direction of the woman.
I gave him a look before picking Aubrey up and carrying her over to the center of the room where several babies were playing with the communal toys.
Aubrey and I sat down with the other moms. I could feel myself starting to sweat. Hanging out with other moms always made me nervous. I was terrified of coming off as a parenting noob and highly conscious of how desperately I wanted the friendship of even just one of these women.
I sat Aubrey down and pushed a blinking jack-in-the-box toward her. Aubrey smiled and began tapping the buttons with her hands.
“Is that fun, baby?” Aubrey pressed another button and a rabbit popped out of one of the toy’s hidden doors. She screamed with delight.
I looked up at the other moms. Surely people were taking notice of me and my adorable child having a Hallmark moment. Then, out of nowhere, Aubrey began to cry. I looked down just in time to see an eighteen-month-old little boy wearing a pair of brown cotton shorts and a red shirt toddling away with the toy she had been squealing over.
I scooped the hysterical Aubrey up and followed the boy to where he sat down to play. He was seated next to a young mom with blond curly hair wearing a flowing burnt-orange dress.
“Excuse me,” I said, kneeling down next to her. “My daughter was playing with that toy when your son came over and grabbed it.”
She stared at me blankly before pushing a stray hair out of her face. “I’m sorry?”
Her son was now happily playing with the toy Aubrey had had earlier while Aubrey sobbed.
“Your son, he grabbed that toy out of my daughter’s hands.” I pointed to the little boy sticking his tongue out at me.
The mom held up a hand defensively, “Please do not point at River. We point at places, not people.”
“Okay...” I said, lowering my hand.
“And I’m sorry your daughter is having a shadow experience today, but we do not force River to share.”
“You what now?” I asked, puzzled.
“We do not force River to share. River makes his own decisions. It’s part of his journey,” she said, smiling serenely.
“What? Lady—”
“Please do not gender me,” the woman said, shaking her head.
“My daughter is going to need that toy back,” I said flatly.
“Please do not gender your child,” she said, staring at me.
“Okay, that’s quite enough.” I reached down and pulled the toy away from River. He let out a squeal.
The woman was livid. “How dare you?”
A play center supervisor wearing a white shirt with the center’s logo on it walked over. “Is there a problem here?”
River’s mom stood up and put her hands on her hips. “This woman just snatched a toy out of my child’s hands!”
I struggled to stand while holding Aubrey. “Only after he took it from mine.”
David popped up. “What’s going on, Ashley?”
The employee, a man in his early twenties with a crew cut, spoke up. “It appears as if your wife took a toy from a baby.”
David looked at me, startled. “Is this true?”
“Yes, but no, he took it from Aubrey first...”
David could barely speak. “Took a toy from a baby?”
The employee put a hand on my elbow, “Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Fine. We don’t want to be here with this kind of lawlessness anyway.” I turned to River’s mom. “This isn’t over.”
I took a step forward and felt my foot sink into something mushy.
“What the—” I looked down and saw that I was four toes deep in a soft turd.
“I eliminated, Mama,” said River.
David laughed all the way home, and eventually even I had to giggle after replaying how I hopped through the play center on one foot to the public bathroom to wash off River’s elimination.
“You do realize we can never go back there again, right?” said David, struggling to hold back hysterical laughter.
“Do you think there’s a photo of me by the cash register?” I said, a smile playing on my lips.
“Hopefully it’s not scratch and sniff,” he said, dissolving into hysterics.
He reached over and took my hand. Our fingers intertwined as Aubrey slept in the backseat.
As we turned off of the freeway I stared at David. It felt so good to laugh again together. I studied his profile as he drove: his strong jaw, five o’clock shadow...he really was incredibly handsome. This is what I wanted when I found out we were pregnant—to just enjoy being together as a family. Sure, there was less foreign kid feces in my fantasy, but all in all, I considered the day a success. A poop-covered success.
Sunday, January 27, 4:30 P.M.
I spend every Sunday morning doing a deep clean of my home. My littles love to help with age-appropriate jobs like wiping down silk flowers, stirring the compost and watering our bonsai trees.
—Emily Walker, Motherhood Better