Shopping for a New Mom

Little D does this thing when we go out in public where he shops for a new mom. A mom who will be more like his vision of “the perfect mom”. At the supermarket on Monday, he found two possible candidates and later that evening when Big Daddy invited one of the medical students over for dinner, Little D was sure he had found “the one”. Seconds after she walked in the door, he announced “I love her”. Signed, sealed and delivered!

The thought of being replaced used to have me running scared, but Monday as we walked through the market collecting the staples, like Oreo cookies, Ice cream and Diet Coke, I decided this idea of shopping for a “mom” might not be such a bad idea. A “mom” right here in New Zealand might be just what Little D and I both need. So up and down the aisles, amid the canned goods and bakery offerings, I shopped too.

I’m not sure how Little D makes his picks, what kind of selection process he goes through, but I started my search with the contents of their trolley. If they didn’t have a trolley, they were automatically eliminated based on the assumption that the pantry would resemble the contents of the trolley and without one I couldn’t tell. If the items in the trolley passed the test and included, the basic necessities and then some treats thrown in, I looked at the shopper themselves. The too old and too young were quickly eliminated and then I was left to watch how they shopped. Lose the “mom”’s who use a list, and gone were the chicks who couldn’t decide. I looked for a smile or “that certain look” in their eye. You know “the look”, the one that tells you she will listen patiently when you need it and tell you to stop whining when that is what is called for. The mom who will fill your freezer full of ready meals and drive your kids around in your convertible VW beetle for a week while you soak up the sun with your husband on a tropical island far away. The mom who shows she cares with phone calls and packages and forwarding of clever emails. A mom who has a candy cupboard and white bread when you go to visit. A mom who is always up for a “project” no matter how big (helping you move across the world) or small (finishing the easter dresses where all you had left do was hem them).

Vinny and I left the supermarket with only the food staples we had come for (and an extra treat or two) and when we got back to the house and I looked forward to my planned skype later that afternoon with the chick I knew was perfect for the “mom” job. She never leaves the market without a full trolley and she has exactly “the look” I was searching for. As it turns out, she doesn’t live in New Zealand, but half way across the world. And that will have to be good enough for now.