Tuesday, April 26, 2011


It was a pretty typical morning here at Chez Crazy. We didn't sleep through the night and woke up sore and tired, the girls were in the same room with each other for exactly 30 seconds before they started fighting, the sink was full of dirty dishes, someone was yelling something about not wanting to go to school and so she wouldn't get dressed, someone else was yelling something indiscernible that I am sure were scornful words about a stolen toy.  But somehow, we managed to get everyone fed, dressed and in the car fifteen minutes earlier than normal.

On the way to school though, I realized that I left my tennis shoes at home. I would have just worked it, but The Club frowns on wearing flip flops on the treadmill so I turned the car back towards home after dropping The Taz off. Instead of running in quick to get my sneakers, I should have just put the car in park and got out the play dough. But I didn't.

As I pulled into The Club, Bear Cub decided that she wasn't having it. She started to run through the parking lot. I picked her up, only to have her start smacking me in the side of the head. I headed to the sidewalk were she could see the fun playground so she'd remember that she likes it there. Nope. Not today. Again, she ran from me. As I scooped her up this time, her foot snagged the bottom of my skirt and I realized that I was giving all The Club members a nice eye full of big ol' pantie.

As I tried to straighten myself out, while toting a flailing 30 pound toddler, I drop my gym bag and her diaper bag.  Not totally put together again, I bend over to scoop up my bags, only to flash my backside at an oncoming car.  I decide that this is a good time to just get back in the car and re-group. After five minutes, my small friend ended her squabbling and I decided that we should try again. This time, I couldn't even get her out of the car seat, so I decided that we should just go somewhere else.

We ended up shopping. I don't know why. My head wasn't very clear. We went into one store, had a jolly good time for 8 minutes when I realized that we could be outside swinging at the park burning off energy.  As we headed to the car, and Bear Cub realized that we would be putting on a seat belt again, she revolted. Her body went stiff and she slid to the floor of the car. Getting her strapped in would mean either A) pulling her arms out of their sockets and / or B) Pushing her belly in with so much force she'd puke.  I chose option C. To let her play until she got bored enough that she'd let me get her strapped in.

This is where it happened. The Meltdown.  I was sitting in the driver's seat. Car running with the air on because it was already 80 degrees at 9am. The thing in the back seat giggling and climbing all over. I started to cry. At first I felt stupid. Crying, ugly chin an all, in the parking lot of a strip mall because my kid wouldn't let me get her strapped in.

But it wasn't just that. It was that I had no control. No say at all. I tried all my tricks. Fun games, the promise of a park with swings. I tried distractions. I begged. I pleaded. I bribed. I used my stern voice. I used my Good Fairy voice. Nothing worked until she got her way. Which made me mad, because it worked, and then she giggled. I cried because I couldn't do the only thing in my day that is just for me. I cried because she's not even two yet, and the worst is still to come. And come it will - for two plus years.

I was on a roll now, so I cried because my underwear are closer to "bloomers" than "skivies" and that all of the people at the Y had to see it. I cried because going to the hardware store was now out of the question and all I needed was one little item so I could finish the stinkin' coffee tables sitting on the back patio - looking real classy all half sanded.  And finally I cried because all of the stress relievers that I used to love either give you cancer or make you fat. (I cried for a while about that last one.)

We were in that strip mall parking lot for close to 40 minutes. I can't even remember how I managed to get her buckled up. But we are home now. All cried out. For now at least.

1 comment:

  1. I cried the other day to Dan because I decided I don't want to have a baby. I am fine with birthing the baby, but after that I don't want her. (pretty much because I will loose my free time and for reasons this blog mentioned) I even suggested we find someone who wants her.(He was not a fan of my irrational plan) Yep. I lost it. So don't feel alone in your crying. And if I am crying at the thought of her, just imagine how I will be in the next few years.