Speaking of rough days, today was a rough one. It started out really well. I think I kind of ruined it by taking this video, thinking how cute my son was, instead of very, very naughty:
Look, I even took this picture of us at breakfast, when things were still on the up and up:
It kind of went downhill from there. I wish I had a video of my son freaking out at Einstein Bagels, throwing his head on the ground, screaming, flailing arms and legs, inconsolable. I had been feeling really optimistic because of the above video and because we were actually buying lunch, something that is pretty special for us. I really try not to spend any money on food during the day if I don't have to. I don't know why. I've just kind of always made my lunch at home and taken it with me. Now I make a lunch for two and tote it around. Plus I don't like stopping for lunch. I don't like to transport my child in and out of too many places, for fear the following might happen. But I was coming home from the Warrenville Library where they have Toddler Time on Thursday mornings, I didn't have a lunch ready but it was lunch time, and Katie had invited us to the park to play. So I thought, what's the worst that could happen?
Owen was an angel while I ordered food, sitting by himself in a chair, chattering, pointing at things and generally entertaining himself. Then I try to leave and within seconds, without warning, he's pitching a fit, like an epic, the world is ending kind of fit, and I've got my hands full with a bag of lunch, a lemonade, a cup of fruit and fork, and some cole slaw. No napkins because of course I forget the most important thing when you're having lunch with a toddler. I literally could not get him out of the stupid restaurant by myself.
Looking back on it I can't remember how I got it all out in one trip but I do remember I did not look up at anyone or stop for a second to think about what I was doing. It was like the siren in my brain went off: CHILD HAVING MELTDOWN; ABANDON ALL SHIPS I REPEAT ABANDON ALL SHIPS. Or abandon all hope, maybe that's what the siren says. Anyway I grabbed my child and somehow successfully got him in a chair outside (but unfortunately right in the window so everyone inside watched in horror as I tried to discipline my horrible little beast in public). Some guy came out and gave me the shoes that had been thrown off in the process. I gave Owen the rigmarole about how this was his timeout and he needed to listen and when he was ready he could let me know and I walked away. Not far, just like three sidewalk squares away but out of the view of the windows so I could compose myself and turn that siren noise off in my head and figure out how to get to my car with a boneless, screaming, miserable little devil that is my child.
I guess the people watching were concerned that I had left him there writhing on the cement because a representative came out looking for me. HE'S HAVING A TIMEOUT, WE'RE FINE, I think I said, really loudly. At this point Owen was like throwing himself under the outdoor furniture and kicking his body around with his legs, to the point where I thought he was going to hurt himself or knock something over, creating more problems for me to deal with. So I tried, within sight of all the people watching the freak show, to pick him up and get in his face and tell him that I loved him but he needed to listen to mom okay? Say okay mom! And he sobbed, Okay mom. Say, You're the boss mom, which is our new one. And he sobbed, You're the boss mom, which is just about the cutest thing I've ever heard a two year old say. It melted my heart enough to the point where I could get him up and over to the car before I pinched him really hard. Poor thing. Then we went to the park so my friend Katie could give him some love because let me tell you, I was a little short on love that moment. I wanted to go straight home and put him to bed to teach him a lesson but decided the decent thing to do was to let him get over it and bounce back a bit. Let him know that I loved him but that was absolutely NOT OKAY. The sad thing was, by the time we ate our food it was cold and kind of yuck. What a waste of a lunch someone else made for you. Ah, life with a two year old. One minute bliss, the next purgatory.
So that's that. I wish I had a video to show you. It would've been quite entertaining. There are times I wish I could reduce/reuse/recycle my child but then again, there are probably times when other people wish they could reduce/reuse/recycle me! We all have our moments, don't we? I'm just doing the best I can I guess. Thank goodness for bedtime.
Thank you, oh readers, for sharing in the disaster that was Earth Day 2010! Hope yours was a little more fantastic.
Amiee
3 comments:
My dear, dear. It is so nice to hear someone else has it as bad as me! You are right, the video is adorable. What a sweetie. But, I know how easily a puckle pastry can turn into a tasmanian devil! We had a similar experience a couple of weeks ago at the Kids Museum in Minneapolis. Luckily, that time Luke was with but we had a meltdown at Goodwill once too. What can you do? I used to look at kids that would throw tantrums like that and think "that kid needs some discipline!" but now I feel bad. Hopefully this stage is almost over!
Oh-and it's so nice to hear your voice!
The video is great! And remember, Owen is 2. We were always told that strong willed children were great, just channel the energy and determination and they will be fantastic people! And they are!
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