I braved the crowds at a local shopping mall yesterday, dragging with me my 3-year-old son, my sister and her two youngsters (both under 18 mo.). By "braved," I mean we went stupidly.
The whole trip was a screaming festival of tantrums, especially the end. My sister and I - exhausted and grouchy - attempted a quick coat/mitten/hat/scarf round-up with the children, mistakenly assuming they would be as tired and ready to leave as we were.
My neice fought back from her stroller with a valiant effort, ripping off her hat and throwing it on the floor as fast as we picked it up and put it back on - it was as much as she could do, poor thing.
My son, a tad more accomplished in the field of "Why you little...!" went back and forth between throwing himself on the floor and swinging punches at me when I tried to put on his coat, hollaring like a crazy person throughout the whole ordeal.
I should have picked his arse up and carried him upside down to the car, bundled for the weather or not. Maybe I should have just pinned him between my legs and forced the coat on. Or I could have left him there, acting like an idiot. Maybe I should have immitated him, which is what I really felt like, screaming and kicking like a nincompoop!
Truthfully, I don't remember how we ended up back in the car from this point.
The whole trip was a screaming festival of tantrums, especially the end. My sister and I - exhausted and grouchy - attempted a quick coat/mitten/hat/scarf round-up with the children, mistakenly assuming they would be as tired and ready to leave as we were.
My neice fought back from her stroller with a valiant effort, ripping off her hat and throwing it on the floor as fast as we picked it up and put it back on - it was as much as she could do, poor thing.
My son, a tad more accomplished in the field of "Why you little...!" went back and forth between throwing himself on the floor and swinging punches at me when I tried to put on his coat, hollaring like a crazy person throughout the whole ordeal.
I should have picked his arse up and carried him upside down to the car, bundled for the weather or not. Maybe I should have just pinned him between my legs and forced the coat on. Or I could have left him there, acting like an idiot. Maybe I should have immitated him, which is what I really felt like, screaming and kicking like a nincompoop!
Truthfully, I don't remember how we ended up back in the car from this point.
All I know is, for a long second in the hell, I mean the mall, I thought, "I'm going to be on the news tonight."
We've all been there - that moment when you want to throw your kid at the passersby who keep looking at you like you've done something horribly wrong for your child to be acting this way, and tell them, "Here! Good luck!"
This morning, I feel better. Better for knowing I didn't throw him; didn't leave him there to fend for himself; didn't even act like a screaming idiot myself. And I remember to write myself a note for the future: when this happens to my sister, I will not intervene. I will stand there, laughing, with my own slightly-behaved child while her kids humiliate her in public.
This morning, I feel better. Better for knowing I didn't throw him; didn't leave him there to fend for himself; didn't even act like a screaming idiot myself. And I remember to write myself a note for the future: when this happens to my sister, I will not intervene. I will stand there, laughing, with my own slightly-behaved child while her kids humiliate her in public.
Oh, how I will laugh! Buwahahaha!
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