Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Carmel-ization (or Life Lesson #1)


Warning: If you share my impatience with preachy diatribes about self improvement, you may want to skip this post. If you have a more open mind, then read on.....
10 years ago, Safety Man and I made a rookie parental mistake by taking our youngin's on a weekend trip to Carmel. Being relatively new parents, we ignored the fact that Carmel is not child friendly. As you probably know, the demographic of this affluent, ocean front town consists largely of retired, wealthy people who shop, play golf and eat well. We wanted to get away from the sweltering summer heat of inland California and feel the crisp ocean air on our naive faces and enjoy some family time. Fair enough.

The story begins as dinner time beckons in quaint downtown Carmel. It's 5:00 and our 1 year old and 3 year old kids are hungry. Very hungry. And cranky. Already, I'm a little nervous when we anxiously search the town for a kid friendly restaurant. As we walk several blocks, passing art galleries, expensive clothing stores, fancy pastry shops and more art galleries, we search in vain for a spot to feed our family without white table clothes. Eventually, we settle on the least white tableclothy place we can find. Though it's a small, intimate room with candles on every table, the staff looks forgiving and friendly and best of all it conveniently has a little courtyard in front so we can let the little ones run around if necessary. (See how considerate we are trying to be?) As we enter, I scout the room for a reaction from the other patrons, eventually making eye contact with a very well dressed, proper looking woman sitting across the room with a distinguished looking gentleman. She doesn't look happy as we ask for high chairs and booster seats. I nudge Safety Man and nod my head towards the lady that is my nemesis for the evening. He's oblivious to the danger.

Dinner progresses as you might expect. The kids are messy and loud. Being very sensitive to the white table cloth scene, I ask Safety Man to take the children outside when necessary, trying very hard to keep the atmosphere peaceful. In spite of our Herculean efforts not to make a fuss, I keep making eye contact with this lady across the room. She won't stop starring at us."Come on, Lady!" I say to myself, "Can't you see we're doing our best?!" I'm not having fun.

I urge Safety Man to plow through the meal as fast as possible, risking indigestion and asphyxiation. After the dishes are cleared and I'm wiping down the table and picking food scraps off the floor for the upteenth time, it happened. The well done woman from across the room slowly approaches. She stands there, looming in front of me, looking me straight in the eye and just as I'm about to shout out some defensive remark she exclaims - " I want you to know that you have the cutest kids." !!!!
So, that's my "light bulb" moment. I learned a few simple but valuable lessons that evening.
1. I can't read minds.
2. It's pointless, and sometimes self destructive and hurtful to innocent people, to project my fears and insecurities on others and...
3. Never take toddlers on a weekend excursion to Carmel.
Now, here's my obligatory preachy advice - If you're pron to Carmel-ization, like I am, watch it. It's not good for you or others around you. Just ask Safety Man.

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