Stop the World
If you were driving to work today and noticed a woman in work clothes - high heels, pantyhose, the works - carrying a 1-year-old, tidy little purse and car keys and chasing a hysterical, sock-footed 4-year-old down the street as he ran breakneck into oncoming traffic ... that was me.
Apparently Sam woke up on the wrong side of the bed. First five minutes of the day, fine. But all toddler hell broke loose when he couldn't get into the bathroom to 'tee-tee.' Then I cut one of his baby cakes (mini pancakes) in half. And then ... Bryon took my car to work. Sam saw him backing out the driveway and immediately fell to the floor, legs stiff, arms swinging, wrenching sobs. "I wanna go in the truck! I wanna follow Daddy! That's not fair! Give me the truck back and I'll be happy!"
Trying to make peace and nip this somewhat quickly in the bud I tried to reason with him. "OK, get your shoes on quick and we'll race Daddy!"
Apparently he thought I meant on foot.
He took off for the door and the street and the traffic. At this point I have to admit that a 4-year-old can outrun me. He was a good half block ahead of me. I emphasize that I was carrying Jake and running in heels but I soon realized there was a very good chance Sam was going to run right into the middle of a 4-way-stop at the end of our street.
Luckily a woman in her car at the intersection got out and stopped him. I thanked her profusely (did I mention it was already 90 degrees and I was sweating like .. well, like a mother chasing down her temporarily insane child as he plunged into danger.)
Danger averted, now I had to get him back up the street and he was not going easily. When he grows up he should organize those protests where you see policemen carrying out dragging resistors.
Two of my neighbors were now out on the street. "Everything OK?" "Things under control?" "Gonna be a good day, huh?"
Fifteen minutes later Sam and Jake are buckled in the car. Sam is still hysterical. I'm thankful Jake is perplexed enough by the outburst to be content.
Now the regret kicks in. For once I don't mean mine. Sam starts sobbing "My mommy's mad at me!" And this continues most of the 25-minute drive to work. It doesn't help that in the melee I left Grey Batman at home.
By some miracle, we arrive at school early. I tell Sam we'll drop off Jake first and Sam and I can spend some time together before I leave. Twenty minutes later I leave for work. We've apologized to each other, and my second work day begins.
Apparently Sam woke up on the wrong side of the bed. First five minutes of the day, fine. But all toddler hell broke loose when he couldn't get into the bathroom to 'tee-tee.' Then I cut one of his baby cakes (mini pancakes) in half. And then ... Bryon took my car to work. Sam saw him backing out the driveway and immediately fell to the floor, legs stiff, arms swinging, wrenching sobs. "I wanna go in the truck! I wanna follow Daddy! That's not fair! Give me the truck back and I'll be happy!"
Trying to make peace and nip this somewhat quickly in the bud I tried to reason with him. "OK, get your shoes on quick and we'll race Daddy!"
Apparently he thought I meant on foot.
He took off for the door and the street and the traffic. At this point I have to admit that a 4-year-old can outrun me. He was a good half block ahead of me. I emphasize that I was carrying Jake and running in heels but I soon realized there was a very good chance Sam was going to run right into the middle of a 4-way-stop at the end of our street.
Luckily a woman in her car at the intersection got out and stopped him. I thanked her profusely (did I mention it was already 90 degrees and I was sweating like .. well, like a mother chasing down her temporarily insane child as he plunged into danger.)
Danger averted, now I had to get him back up the street and he was not going easily. When he grows up he should organize those protests where you see policemen carrying out dragging resistors.
Two of my neighbors were now out on the street. "Everything OK?" "Things under control?" "Gonna be a good day, huh?"
Fifteen minutes later Sam and Jake are buckled in the car. Sam is still hysterical. I'm thankful Jake is perplexed enough by the outburst to be content.
Now the regret kicks in. For once I don't mean mine. Sam starts sobbing "My mommy's mad at me!" And this continues most of the 25-minute drive to work. It doesn't help that in the melee I left Grey Batman at home.
By some miracle, we arrive at school early. I tell Sam we'll drop off Jake first and Sam and I can spend some time together before I leave. Twenty minutes later I leave for work. We've apologized to each other, and my second work day begins.
posted by Romine Family at 10:35 AM
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