The snowballing of a lapse in good judgment
Herein lies a description of one of my worst parenting days ever. Looking back it's rather funny, except perhaps not funny-ha-ha. More like funny-oh-crap.
A day that began with grand intentions of snuggles and laughter and enrichment and me proving myself worthy of my impressive spread of Mother's Day gifts, now wilting on my countertop.
A day in which, hours later I would shout, with the full attention of both my children, "I just want to disappear!"
Don't think moms are supposed to say stuff like that.
Brandon was going to be away all day on Saturday for a basketball team camp. So it would be just me and the kiddos on what was predicted to be a brutally hot and humid day. I wanted to do something that the boys would enjoy, and really just wanted to get out of the house for a while. Thought maybe we'd head to the playground after breakfast, before it got too hot.
Following is the conversation I had with myself. Not out loud.
Then, hmm, what could we do?
Ooh, maybe we could go to the library. We've never been there before.
I will pause here to allow you time to judge me. Yes, Trey is almost five and Aden almost two, and no, I have never once set foot inside a library with either of them. Yes, they watch too much TV. Sometimes we forget to brush teeth. I serve some meals without vegetables. I give them marshmallows and orange soda, and generally, I'm just ruining their lives.
We good? Back to me talking to myself.
Er, Aden in a library? Might not be the best decision.
But Trey would love it so much. And maybe Aden would be OK, sometimes he's clingy in a new place.
I think it will be fine.
Famous last words.
I broke the news to Trey of the day's plans, and he was just beside himself. And the five-year guilt I carried around over having never taken my bookworm boy to the library nearly brought me to tears.
The first part of the day went so very well. Went to our church's playground, which has Aden-sized equipment so that he can climb and play without me hovering around him. Probably the worst thing that happened was that Aden nearly ate a cicada and I totally bailed on my fake-insect-tolerance-Mommy-act and screamed and shuddered and sprinted for the Purell. Which is apparently funny to little boys.
It was already dreadfully hot, so after an hour and Trey declaring, "I'm sweat!" we went inside the church to cool down. I had brought icy drinks, snacks, and changes of clothes along, then we played with some of the toys in Aden's classroom. Trey put on a CD of Bible songs and we just had a really good time.
Headed off to the library, excitement mounting. I explained to Trey (and Aden, for what it was worth) that libraries were quiet places. And that every book was in order, so that whatever he got off a shelf should be put back in its exact spot.
I watched Trey's expression as we walked through the door. Wonderment and glee. As I signed up for a library card from a woman who looked like she had never smiled in her life, Trey just gazed around with mouth wide open. Aden was content in my arms at first, but after a few minutes spied the kids corner with a gargantuan stuffed Clifford.
I will say that this is where things started to go downhill. Though one could very reasonably argue that the moment I made the decision to come to the library, the snowball had already started growing.
Upon receiving the library card and being dismissed by Ms. Serious, I put Aden down and told him and Trey to walk to the kids corner. And I actually thought they would walk. They didn't.
I thought some time spent in the kids "quiet" play area would help calm them down. Then Trey found a table with attached puzzle pieces on a runner, but instead of calmly putting the pieces in their places, he pretends they are cars and crashes them together. While loudly narrating. And Aden proceeds to pull the giant red dog down from its spot in the window to the floor and give it a good what-for. While loudly narrating.
I try to pull the kids' attention to the reason we are there, to bring culture to their little minds by finding some interesting books. Trey pulls out book after book, sets them wherever he pleases, then declares, "We don't have any of these!" Aden walks by a magazine shelf and swipes them into the floor.
I take the boys back to the kids area, hurriedly clean up Aden's magazine mess and then try to get the books that Trey had pulled back in their correct spot. Aden peeks through a shelf at me and grins. Then takes off screaming down the aisles. Trey thinks this is great. So he follows.
The chase begins, and is made even more enjoyable to the boys now that I have joined in. They are running and squealing, I am fast-walking and whisper-threatening them, for my type A-ness will not allow me to break library rules.
Takes a few minutes, but I finally caught Aden behind an irritated-looking man at the electronic card catalog. Apologizing profusely for the noise and rudeness, I snatched Aden up by the wrist (feel free to judge again) and in my most demonic voice, ordered Trey to my side.
With both children clutched tightly to my person, I picked out what I wanted from the library, we checked out, and left.
On the way out I vowed that it would be at least another five years before I take both boys to the library again.
With my happy heart ruined for the day, we ate lunch at home and I put Aden down for a much-needed nap. I asked Trey if he could please entertain himself while I got some chores done. Of course the chores didn't get done, for Trey refused to play by himself and Aden never went to sleep.
Desperate for some kind of distraction from our own attitudes, we went outside in the blazing heat to swim in the bathwater-warm kiddie pool. Where Trey harrassed his little brother any way he could think of, and where Aden took off for the road one too many times.
And so it was that I shouted to my children about wanting to disappear, dragged them both inside, angrily bathed them and got them ready for bed. It was 5:30.
Many, many lessons learned. They'll stick too. Most of thepainfully hilarious hilariously painful ones do.
And the one that sticks out the most is that, though I felt like I didn't even deserve the title of mother for having never taken my children to a library, turns out there was a reason.
A good reason.
A day that began with grand intentions of snuggles and laughter and enrichment and me proving myself worthy of my impressive spread of Mother's Day gifts, now wilting on my countertop.
A day in which, hours later I would shout, with the full attention of both my children, "I just want to disappear!"
Don't think moms are supposed to say stuff like that.
Brandon was going to be away all day on Saturday for a basketball team camp. So it would be just me and the kiddos on what was predicted to be a brutally hot and humid day. I wanted to do something that the boys would enjoy, and really just wanted to get out of the house for a while. Thought maybe we'd head to the playground after breakfast, before it got too hot.
Following is the conversation I had with myself. Not out loud.
Then, hmm, what could we do?
Ooh, maybe we could go to the library. We've never been there before.
I will pause here to allow you time to judge me. Yes, Trey is almost five and Aden almost two, and no, I have never once set foot inside a library with either of them. Yes, they watch too much TV. Sometimes we forget to brush teeth. I serve some meals without vegetables. I give them marshmallows and orange soda, and generally, I'm just ruining their lives.
We good? Back to me talking to myself.
Er, Aden in a library? Might not be the best decision.
But Trey would love it so much. And maybe Aden would be OK, sometimes he's clingy in a new place.
I think it will be fine.
Famous last words.
I broke the news to Trey of the day's plans, and he was just beside himself. And the five-year guilt I carried around over having never taken my bookworm boy to the library nearly brought me to tears.
The first part of the day went so very well. Went to our church's playground, which has Aden-sized equipment so that he can climb and play without me hovering around him. Probably the worst thing that happened was that Aden nearly ate a cicada and I totally bailed on my fake-insect-tolerance-Mommy-act and screamed and shuddered and sprinted for the Purell. Which is apparently funny to little boys.
It was already dreadfully hot, so after an hour and Trey declaring, "I'm sweat!" we went inside the church to cool down. I had brought icy drinks, snacks, and changes of clothes along, then we played with some of the toys in Aden's classroom. Trey put on a CD of Bible songs and we just had a really good time.
Headed off to the library, excitement mounting. I explained to Trey (and Aden, for what it was worth) that libraries were quiet places. And that every book was in order, so that whatever he got off a shelf should be put back in its exact spot.
I watched Trey's expression as we walked through the door. Wonderment and glee. As I signed up for a library card from a woman who looked like she had never smiled in her life, Trey just gazed around with mouth wide open. Aden was content in my arms at first, but after a few minutes spied the kids corner with a gargantuan stuffed Clifford.
I will say that this is where things started to go downhill. Though one could very reasonably argue that the moment I made the decision to come to the library, the snowball had already started growing.
Upon receiving the library card and being dismissed by Ms. Serious, I put Aden down and told him and Trey to walk to the kids corner. And I actually thought they would walk. They didn't.
I thought some time spent in the kids "quiet" play area would help calm them down. Then Trey found a table with attached puzzle pieces on a runner, but instead of calmly putting the pieces in their places, he pretends they are cars and crashes them together. While loudly narrating. And Aden proceeds to pull the giant red dog down from its spot in the window to the floor and give it a good what-for. While loudly narrating.
I try to pull the kids' attention to the reason we are there, to bring culture to their little minds by finding some interesting books. Trey pulls out book after book, sets them wherever he pleases, then declares, "We don't have any of these!" Aden walks by a magazine shelf and swipes them into the floor.
I take the boys back to the kids area, hurriedly clean up Aden's magazine mess and then try to get the books that Trey had pulled back in their correct spot. Aden peeks through a shelf at me and grins. Then takes off screaming down the aisles. Trey thinks this is great. So he follows.
The chase begins, and is made even more enjoyable to the boys now that I have joined in. They are running and squealing, I am fast-walking and whisper-threatening them, for my type A-ness will not allow me to break library rules.
Takes a few minutes, but I finally caught Aden behind an irritated-looking man at the electronic card catalog. Apologizing profusely for the noise and rudeness, I snatched Aden up by the wrist (feel free to judge again) and in my most demonic voice, ordered Trey to my side.
With both children clutched tightly to my person, I picked out what I wanted from the library, we checked out, and left.
On the way out I vowed that it would be at least another five years before I take both boys to the library again.
With my happy heart ruined for the day, we ate lunch at home and I put Aden down for a much-needed nap. I asked Trey if he could please entertain himself while I got some chores done. Of course the chores didn't get done, for Trey refused to play by himself and Aden never went to sleep.
Desperate for some kind of distraction from our own attitudes, we went outside in the blazing heat to swim in the bathwater-warm kiddie pool. Where Trey harrassed his little brother any way he could think of, and where Aden took off for the road one too many times.
And so it was that I shouted to my children about wanting to disappear, dragged them both inside, angrily bathed them and got them ready for bed. It was 5:30.
Many, many lessons learned. They'll stick too. Most of the
And the one that sticks out the most is that, though I felt like I didn't even deserve the title of mother for having never taken my children to a library, turns out there was a reason.
A good reason.
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