Friday, May 9, 2014

That Time I Threw My Busted Styrofoam Cup Out The Window In Impotent Rage: Mother's Day Edition

This was yesterday.

I almost tweeted my summation of the sad state of affairs, like I needed to put my ownself in time out, but I thought better of it to preserve my dignity. Which is why I'm blogging about it today.

The day started off so well:  we made Sarah's preschool drop off on-time-ish, made a Mother's Day card run and Dollar Store drop-in without incident, and then had school time with J.  He actually started the first of the Early Reader Phonics books in our curriculum and read each word on his own... like score.  I am winning at this whole thing.

We pick up Sarah, and since I really want to get those cards off and I want Sarah to add her developing penmanship to the card, we stop over at Chick-Fil-A to grab a bite and let her sign those cards.

Fail proof, right?

I get our meals ordered, divvy them around and anticipate feeding myself after all the ketchup has been squeezed, chicken cut, and fruit preferences honored.  Then: "Mom, I've got to go potty!!!" from Sarah.  The urgent kind of potty.  "Of course you do,"  I remark a wee bit sarcastically, as we've already had a bathroom session leaving preschool that involved the changing of garments.

I bark to get her shoes, carry her to the bathroom, and hope J and Rachel remain seated at the table.  Of course, she "can't go," so I slap her shoes on, and as we are exiting, J is at the restroom entrance.  If I had been in good humor, I would have rightly concluded that he too needed to go.  I'm not sure if I asked him or not, but hauled both of them back to the table to make sure Rachel was still in her non-highchair seat.  She was.  Perfectly contented with a big chicken tender and hadn't even thrown anything.

A table of college-aged sorority sisters sits behind us and I remark, "Really makes you want to have kids, right?" with about as much sincerity as you can imagine after the proceedings.

"Actually, we were watching your baby.  She's precious."

"Oh, yeah.  All of them are.  Especially when we're not running to the bathroom," I graciously reply.  (Sarcasm font).

I resume enjoying the wonder of those red bell pepper/tomato crunchies on the salad when I look over at J and I get it.  He really had to go.  He has to go now.  He is going.

I jerk him up and drag him in the the ladies room and use that crazy, hushed voice that scares even me and I'm sure anyone in the next stall.

I call the outing a loss and tell him to wait by the front door as I pack up the food and explain that no playground time will be had as I'm regaled with ice cream dream laments from Sarah.

We're out the door and I relent, agreeing to get ice cream through the drive through.  And then I grab my water cup and the straw has poked its way through the bottom.

At which point I LOSE IT.

My window is open after having just placed my order in the drive through line and I chuck that empty cup out the window, saying some things and generally looking like an unhinged maniac who should not be driving a motor vehicle containing children.

You'll be happy to know that the ice cream cone later falls out of the cup holder up front and I handle that with equal grace.

Then I give the kids an early bath, mostly so they can splash in the tub and I can watch my show in the next room as I check in on them and pretty much check out from the day.

As they are exiting the tub, J's system finally processes the last of the major system flush we started this Sunday and continued all week and well, leaves an EPIC mess in his room.  EPIC.   That's all I can say and remain in any sort of taste.  But he thoughtfully took himself to the restroom to clean himself up so that counts for something, yes?

We limp through a hasty meatball and spaghetti meal as Alex steam cleans J's room and mercifully get them in their beds.

And we awaken to do it all over again.

Hopefully with less blow-outs.  By all parties.

And I share this pitiful anecdote to remind myself that sometimes it's great and sometimes it's hard and sometimes it's boring and sometimes you just keep showing up.

Let's keep showing up, Moms and Dads.  They'll be adults one day and we won't know any of the details of their bathroom habits.  God willing.

Happy Mother's Day!!!

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