I pull into the parking lot of the coffee shop. It’s a familiar view. It’s a local coffee shop and one of my favorites. Today, I have my younger two kids with me. My toddler (3) and my baby.
It’s a cold day. We’ve been bustling around all day, and I’m looking forward to sitting down with a hot cup of coffee. “I may order a breakfast sandwich,” I think to myself. We unload from the van, the cold air hitting our faces. With my toddler walking next to me and my baby on my hip, we push through the doors and make our way to the counter. We order food and sit down on a velvet, mustard colored couch.
The barista with sandy-colored curly hair and a baseball cap approaches with a friendly smile. She sets my coffee and breakfast sandwich on the side table.
My toddler’s brown eyes get bigger as she comes up and reaches for the coffee.
“Hot! No!” I blurt out
The baby starts crying to be nursed. I nurse him, covering myself, aware of the eyes that have been watching us. We’re a loud trio.
The baby calms down and continues to nurse.
I take a bite of the breakfast sandwich with one hand. The egg in the sandwich bursts open, and egg yolk drips down my arm and onto the couch. Startled, I see the yellow egg yolk dripping down the couch. I start grabbing for a baby wipe, holding my nursing infant in one arm.
“That was stupid!!” I say to myself. Why did I order a breakfast sandwich that has an egg over easy on it? I should have known this would happen.
I scrub the egg off the couch with one hand as I hold the baby. Preparing myself to explain to the barista what happened.
I share some of my sandwich with my toddler. He’s begging for it. I don’t blame him it’s snack time. He gets egg yolks on his hands and reaches for the couch. More egg yolks get smeared onto the couch. I’m already anxious, but my anxiety skyrockets.
“No touch!!” I say, trying to stay calm.
I sit there torn. I’m torn between being smiling and being positive and curling up on the couch, my face in my hands.
As a mom of three, I still don’t know how to feel. I’ve always loved coffee shops. They bring me a sense of peace. In this phase, going to the coffee shop is often not peaceful. Starbucks drive-thrus feel cold to me, and I miss the feeling of sitting down in a cozy coffee shop and drinking coffee from a real mug. Getting away requires meticulous planning. Any mother of small kids understands. My husband would support me, but getting away is just plain hard.
Are coffee shops a place we just don’t go? I decided a while back that I would make coffee shops an enjoyable time for us. We’d buy the pastries. We’d bring quiet activities. Usually, we all have a good time. There are always crumbs to clean up, but that doesn’t bother me. Today made me question why I do it.
Older moms, what would you do?
