Random acts of Cynicism

Cynicism (Greek: Kυνισμός) was originally the philosophy of a group of ancient Greeks called the Cynics, founded by Antisthenes. The Cynics rejected all conventions, whether of religion, manners, housing, dress, or decency, advocating the pursuit of virtue in a simple and unmaterialistic lifestyle.

Currently, the word 'cynicism' generally describes the opinions of those who maintain that self-interest is the primary motive of human behaviour, and are disinclined to rely upon sincerity, human virtue, or altruism as motivations.

Honestly, I just looked it up so that I would know the correct way to spell it.

I first thought that I would name this post as "random acts of kindness", but I decided to talk more about my mind-frame than to gush over a recent event, but I need to also do this in order to explain my mind-frame. Here is my story:

I was in Trader Joe's today. This is simple enough... go grocery shopping. I needed to pick up "snack" for 40 kids for 2 days (for my oldest's school)-composed of 4 lbs of cheese, 8 lbs of fruit, 4 boxes of crackers, and 2 gallons of juice. Plus there's the dog food. Grocery shopping is an ordeal. When my husband goes with me, we divide and conquer. We are now a "two cart family" and the thought sickens me to a certain extent. He is not with me now though, he has a shrink appointment.

The trick is not so much the parking, but carrying my 4 year old, and the 6 month old (in carrier), and the tote bags across the parking lot. The 4 year old is "out". I try to wake her. I open her eyelids one at a time and peer into her eyes. No effect. There's no turning back. I need to go. I need to get this done. There is no other time.

So I carry 50 lbs of human beings, 5 lbs of carrier, and 6 shopping bags 200 yards to the door. A man helps me by holding the shopping cart so I can slip the 4 year old into the seat. Why these things don't have breaks is beyond me. All they need are simple breaks like the ones on strollers. I've had one of my kids "take a ride" through the parking lot before, and it's not pretty the looks that you get when you leave your child unattended in this manner.

I put the carrier with the baby in the back. This leaves me the bottom of the shopping cart to put food in, so we can't buy anything that is smaller than 4 inches in diameter or it will slip through. I put what I can down there, and decide that it's "okay" to put 4 lbs on bananas on top of the baby. She seems alright with it. Then I put another lb. of oranges on top of her. Still okay, they are off to the side. I pile on a can of tunafish. She's chewing on it. I guess this is okay. Is the label made in China, is it printed with lead ink? No turning back now. The dog food is on the bottom, so that doesn't leave much room for anything else.

It's not very apparent that there is a baby in there. I am hoping to avoid "I would never" looks from people who don't have children. We know that all the "I would nevers (take my kid to Disneyland, buy Cinderella shoes, pile groceries on top of the baby)" go out the window once you actually do have kids.

No, it's not apparent I have a baby in there, until I am in line and she starts to cry. The oldest is still zonked out. The baby is strapped into the car seat with 6 lbs of groceries on her. There is no getting her out. I will have to let her cry. The line is long. I can't leave. I am responsible for "snack". A woman gets behind me in line. I guess I have a line in my forehead that looks like someone has taken a chainsaw to it, and my mandible muscles are bulging like a bulls, so she can see that I am a bit tense.

She begins to talk to the baby. Her voice is the quintessential mothers. She's soft and soothing, and it doesn't really matter what she's saying to the baby, but she knows that I am listening too. The baby stops crying and I look at her. She tells me to do what I have to do (which is basically check out, but it feels like I am climbing Everest). She is telling the baby that "mommy" is going to take her home soon and snuggle with her and cook dinner. She says "unless mommy has something else that she needs to do (this part is specifically for me)... and if she does she's not going to do it. She's just going to take you home".

Funny, in reading back that last sentence, it sounds so presumptuous. But it wasn't. She was honestly saying it to the baby to keep her calm. And she was, as if she could understand every word the woman was saying. Her words were so carefully placed.

I manage to swipe my debit card which has almost broken in two. I keep meaning to get another, but it's way down on the list. It will become priority when I can no longer get it out of the ATM machine. I can put the bags on top of the dog food now. I am one solid package. My baby is no longer crying (until the drive home). I run to the woman and hug her. We introduce ourselves, and I know I will remember her face forever.

Before I had two children I figured "to each his own". I was the last person that needed help, ever. I would bull my way through my day with my kid, dragging her here and there. People would offer, and I would look at them as if they were nuts. It was my choice to have a child, and I can deal with this, just get out of my way. I am independent to a fault, my mother will tell you this. She admits to making me this way. She didn't want me to cry when I went to kindergarten.

I remember being 8 months pregnant. I had my oldest in tow, five bags of groceries on the curb. I started to get her into her car seat when a guy started towards my bags. "Um, excuse me, those are my groceries!" I yelled to him. What did I think he was doing with them? Stealing them? sure. He was HELPING me. He saw that I had a kid and was pregnant, and he decided to help.

That was the beginning of the end. Little did I know that having a second child would require me to accept help sometimes. The fact was cemented when the baby was 6 weeks old. My car got stuck in across both lanes of a very busy street. I jumped out frantically trying to push it, and then decided that maybe this was not the best thing to do with the two kids in the car. Two super-women and a UPS man stopped traffic, carried the kids, and pushed my car to the side of the road.I sent out a mass email trying to reach them to thank them (managing to reach the UPS driver) and had my letter published in two newspapers.

Through these few events my mind-frame changed. It went from a "to each his own" cynical view of the human race, to a much kinder, gentler space. I am malleable now, I can accept help.
As for the ancient Greeks and their view of cynicism (The Cynics rejected all conventions, whether of religion, manners, housing, dress, or decency, advocating the pursuit of virtue in a simple and unmaterialistic lifestyle). This virtue would be simple to embrace, if only one never had to be responsible for "snack".