BLOG: You are that someone

[Please note: The main purpose of this blog is to post the pictures of Mixed and Happy families. But while I'm here, I might as well let you take a peek into my Mixed and Happy life, so I'll be blogging in-between picture posts.]

I had just wrapped up an insane, mind-numbing deadline at work this morning when I thought about those little nagging errands I needed to handle on my lunch break.

I figured I'd eat my bologna sandwich (insert laugh or cringe here) in the car--to save time. And then I would stop at the mall (free internet) and get on my laptop; send some emails, take care of some business. I had my list of to-dos all worked out, almost down to the minute.

So I had all this stuff figured out in my head, when my heart stopped me. Hubby had the morning off and I just needed him. I needed his presence, his voice, his ... him. Yes, I needed his him.

I decided that the errands could wait. He could not.

I was feeling overwhelmed and just wanted to be in my safe spot. OK, so my safe spot involved pancakes and cheese grits at one of our favorite little cafes--where an entire hot breakfast is still less than $5. It wasn't even 11:30 as we were wrapping up.

"You wanna sit in the van and talk?"

We had only been in the mom van for a few minutes when this car pulled up in front of us. I could see this woman on her cell-phone, a baby in the back of the car and a little girl in the front seat.

She was a tiny, tiny little thing. No more than 2-years-old. "Look at that!" I said to Hubby. "That little girl is in the front seat."

"If they get into an accident, that car will smash her in a second," he replied.

Hubby is a firefighter, and although he's still a newbie, he's seen a lot.

"Well, should I say something? What should I do?" I asked him.

I was more thinking out loud than I was asking him, though. Someone else will tell her, right? I mean, how could they not? Anyway, she'll probably be offended and yell at me or something.

He urged me to do whatever I thought was the right thing to do.

I saw that little girl skip around the side of the car, where the woman was unstrapping the baby, and I thought: honestly, if I can't walk up to just one person and tell them what I know is right as a mother, I should stop working on Mixed and Happy right now.

The whole point of working on this thing is to stand up for what I know is right, right? So, if I can't do this face-to-face with one person, I have no right to do it hiding behind a keyboard.

I stepped out of the van. "Excuse me, um, I just wanted to tell you that your little girl really needs to be in the back of the car. If you get in a car accident, she'll be smashed in a second."

I was ready for it. The last time I told someone about their kid, I was told to mind my own business. You know how it goes. She paused. And the she gave it to me--her profuse thankfulness, that is.

"Really?" she said. "I didn't know that. I am their grandmother.Thank you so much, really, no one has ever told me that."

As she walked away, baby in one arm and toddler skipping clumsily beside her, I heard her say to the girl "That lady just told me that you need to sit in the back to be safe. We're going to move your car seat after lunch."

I honestly don't know what she did after that; if she ever moved the seat. Hubby and I parted ways moments later, but I felt like I had just passed a test of some sort. I was scared about the woman's reaction, but my action was more important than her reaction.

It's so easy to look away, but that's what Mixed and Happy is all about. Not looking away and not caring about reactions. But, ultimately caring about the action that comes before the reaction.

Bottom line is because people did not look away from Keith Bardwell's decision to deny an interaccial couple a marriage license, he resigned. So my message to anyone who stumbles across this post: Never look away and think that someone else will do the right thing. You are that someone else.