Happy Times
One of the joys of parenthood is how you can have six amazing hours with your children that can be erased in a matter of minutes.
Last Friday we were supposed to head north to go swimming with Alisa, Jeff, and Keegan. Unfortunately, the weather didn't comply, so we agreed to meet at the Discovery Museum. Happily, it was a big hit and it didn't require any waxing on my part. The kids (and by kids, I mean Doodles, Keegan, Pie, and Jeff) had a blast, particularly in the train room where Jeff built the tallest bridges he could, and Doodles and Keegan ignored him in favor of running trains as far away from him as possible, and Sweetie tried to figure out just how many licks it takes to get to the center of, well, a train track.
Things were going so swimmingly that instead of seeing the "Danger Will Robinson" signs that were clearly flashing before me, I suggested we all head to O'Naturals for lunch. Lunch was terrific. Sweetie was a champ with a turkey sandwich and Doodles had a bit of sustenance with two bags of Cheddar Bunnies and a yogurt. O'Naturals is one of the few places we can actually go where we can order for Doodles and I don't have to bring an entire bag of food. Anyway, the point is Doodles is eating and Sweetie is eating, so I get to actually eat--and enjoy!--my own meal, while having a conversation with--gasp!--adults! Novel concept, I know. At the end, Doodles and Keegan wander off to play with the train table while I continue chatting with Alisa and Jeff.
Sweetie starts to fuss. And rub her eyes. And moan. And I look at my watch and see that it's close to 2:30. Waaay past Sweetie's (and Doodle's for that matter!) nap time. So it's time to go. Only Doodles doesn't want to leave. Not even close. He wants to staaaaaay! He doesn't want to gooooooo! Noooooo! Mommy let go! I don't want to leave!! I want to staaaaaaaaay! He's about to lose his TV privileges.
Sweetie is in one arm, Doodles in the other as I literally drag him from the premises, all the while eyeing the nice folks walking in who must surely think I abuse my poor child, the way I yank him about. He's still yelling. And yelling. I get him to the car and he won't get in. Sweetie is rubbing her face into my shoulder over and over and over and over... I get her in her seat, turn around for one second, turn back and she's out cold. Okay, one child down. Now on to the demon spawn--I mean Doodles.
"Doodles, get into the car."
"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! I don't want to go!" The little hand starts flapping. "I [smack] don't [smack] want [smack] to [smack] go [smack]!"
Thankfully, Alisa and Jeff were parked just across from us and got to witness every stellar moment. "We don't hit! That's it! No TV today!" What do I do? How do you put a child into time out when you're standing in the middle of a parking lot, your other child is asleep, and going anywhere to have a time out would give him exactly what he wants, which is more time there.
"I [smack] don't [smack] want [smack] to [smack] go [smack]!"
I'm about to haul him into the car, when I notice a stain on his shirt. And his pants. And... Ewwwwww! "Doodles, did you you poop?"
"I [smack] don't [smack] want [smack] to [smack] go [smack]!"
Trying to keep him as far away from me as possible while avoiding that hand that is blindly, wildly trying to hit everything in its path, I carry him to the median where I proceed to strip him down, put on a clean diaper, and then... Hmmm. Now what? Doodles generally doesn't have these kinds of poops (blame it on the apple juice I let him drink with lunch. Hey, it was organic!), so it's not like I keep a change of clothes for him. Fine, he can hang out in his diaper.
Into the car he goes, hand still flying, and I manage to buckle him in. He spends 25 minutes of the 30 minute ride home, sitting there sullenly and for the last five minutes? You know exactly what happened a mere five minutes from home: he fell asleep.
And my really terrific, wonderful day? Poof! Like it never even happened. It took a lot of wine to make some of the good will return. Sigh.
Last Friday we were supposed to head north to go swimming with Alisa, Jeff, and Keegan. Unfortunately, the weather didn't comply, so we agreed to meet at the Discovery Museum. Happily, it was a big hit and it didn't require any waxing on my part. The kids (and by kids, I mean Doodles, Keegan, Pie, and Jeff) had a blast, particularly in the train room where Jeff built the tallest bridges he could, and Doodles and Keegan ignored him in favor of running trains as far away from him as possible, and Sweetie tried to figure out just how many licks it takes to get to the center of, well, a train track.
Things were going so swimmingly that instead of seeing the "Danger Will Robinson" signs that were clearly flashing before me, I suggested we all head to O'Naturals for lunch. Lunch was terrific. Sweetie was a champ with a turkey sandwich and Doodles had a bit of sustenance with two bags of Cheddar Bunnies and a yogurt. O'Naturals is one of the few places we can actually go where we can order for Doodles and I don't have to bring an entire bag of food. Anyway, the point is Doodles is eating and Sweetie is eating, so I get to actually eat--and enjoy!--my own meal, while having a conversation with--gasp!--adults! Novel concept, I know. At the end, Doodles and Keegan wander off to play with the train table while I continue chatting with Alisa and Jeff.
Sweetie starts to fuss. And rub her eyes. And moan. And I look at my watch and see that it's close to 2:30. Waaay past Sweetie's (and Doodle's for that matter!) nap time. So it's time to go. Only Doodles doesn't want to leave. Not even close. He wants to staaaaaay! He doesn't want to gooooooo! Noooooo! Mommy let go! I don't want to leave!! I want to staaaaaaaaay! He's about to lose his TV privileges.
Sweetie is in one arm, Doodles in the other as I literally drag him from the premises, all the while eyeing the nice folks walking in who must surely think I abuse my poor child, the way I yank him about. He's still yelling. And yelling. I get him to the car and he won't get in. Sweetie is rubbing her face into my shoulder over and over and over and over... I get her in her seat, turn around for one second, turn back and she's out cold. Okay, one child down. Now on to the demon spawn--I mean Doodles.
"Doodles, get into the car."
"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! I don't want to go!" The little hand starts flapping. "I [smack] don't [smack] want [smack] to [smack] go [smack]!"
Thankfully, Alisa and Jeff were parked just across from us and got to witness every stellar moment. "We don't hit! That's it! No TV today!" What do I do? How do you put a child into time out when you're standing in the middle of a parking lot, your other child is asleep, and going anywhere to have a time out would give him exactly what he wants, which is more time there.
"I [smack] don't [smack] want [smack] to [smack] go [smack]!"
I'm about to haul him into the car, when I notice a stain on his shirt. And his pants. And... Ewwwwww! "Doodles, did you you poop?"
"I [smack] don't [smack] want [smack] to [smack] go [smack]!"
Trying to keep him as far away from me as possible while avoiding that hand that is blindly, wildly trying to hit everything in its path, I carry him to the median where I proceed to strip him down, put on a clean diaper, and then... Hmmm. Now what? Doodles generally doesn't have these kinds of poops (blame it on the apple juice I let him drink with lunch. Hey, it was organic!), so it's not like I keep a change of clothes for him. Fine, he can hang out in his diaper.
Into the car he goes, hand still flying, and I manage to buckle him in. He spends 25 minutes of the 30 minute ride home, sitting there sullenly and for the last five minutes? You know exactly what happened a mere five minutes from home: he fell asleep.
And my really terrific, wonderful day? Poof! Like it never even happened. It took a lot of wine to make some of the good will return. Sigh.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home