Mom's can worry about silly things. The other day, a friend asked me to stop and buy a place mat for her younger son because big brother had one and little brother was getting jealous. I found the small display and instantly liked the bright colors and whimsical drawings. An alphabet design caught my eye -- my eldest enjoys pointing out letters and we are traveling and leaving many messes on friends' tablecloths, so I decided to indulge the impulse and purchase a couple for my girls. Then the dillemas hit.
At first, I thought I'd get two different ones. One for Susannah, and one for Maggie: there were two alphabet designs after all. But wait. I'll be able to keep straight whose is whose, but Daddy certainly won't care. Maggie will then tell Daddy he's got the wrong one, or she'll demand to use Susannah's and little sister won't give up without a fight. OK, so I'll get the same for both girls. (Of course, it still took me some minutes to pick the perfect one.)
Anxiety struck again as I stood in line at the check out. Some day, I may have more children, I thought. I will then have to get a third place mat. What if they don't have the same alphabet design any more? I'll have to get a different one, and then they'll be fighting over the different one. Or I could buy three of the same in the future, but what would I do with these two? Maybe I should go back and get two different ones instead of two of the same.
Fortunately, the sense that this was ridiculous inner struggle began to surface on the turbulent inner waters of my thoughts, and I paid the $3.99 per place mat and got on with life.
