Day 2 is not going any better than Day 1 did.
Large had a basketball game this morning, which meant that
we ALL had to escort him to school.
In an attempt to give myself a little treat, we stopped at Starbucks on
the way and I purchased a Venti cup of caffeinated goodness. We arrived at school and I was all
proud of myself for arriving on time with a few minutes to spare. I had packed a little bag of Monster
Trucks for Medium and a bin of toys for Small, and we set up camp in a corner
of the gym.
On time? Check! Prepared? Check!
On time? Check! Prepared? Check!
And then Small spilled my super-duper cup o’ joe all over
the floor. I bolted for the
bathroom to get paper towels only to have a representative from the Parks
Authority chase after me.
“Excuse me!” he called. “Someone spilled a drink all over the place in here.”
Well, thanks for the heads up, Johnny Newsflash.
I explained that I was getting paper towels, and he
graciously offered to go find a mop.
Yes, there was THAT much coffee.
I don’t know if I was more annoyed that I was down on my
hands and knees with those industrial strength brown school paper towels that
have the absorbency of sandpaper, or that I had only had ONE sip of my
coffee. I have mentioned once or
twice how much I likes my coffee, right?
Large does not have a future in the NBA. He had fun, but the entire experience
was the basketball equivalent of the Bad News Bears. Medium complained the entire time that he was bored, he had
nothing to do, he was hungry, how much longer, etc. Small wiggled, writhed, screamed, fell backwards onto the seat
behind him, ran from me, threw a car onto the court, and ate raisins off the
floor. Medium took full advantage
of this situation and began teasing Small by holding his car just out of his
reach, showing him the ball and then taking it away from him, and “wrestling”
him and then claiming he couldn’t hear my desperate request for him to pleasefortheloveofpete knock it off!
Because I clearly appeared to have the situation firmly under
control, another mommy offered her husband’s services and had him take Large to
their next destination while I headed home with the younger two.
I have a hard time asking for help. I remember Hubby calling my mom soon
after Large was born and asking her to come help me with our newborn for a few
days as he was going back to work.
I was exhausted and emotional, (which I now refer to as Tuesday,) but felt like I should be able to do this motherhood thing on my
own. Since then I have learned,
especially recently, that I need to ask for help and I need to accept it when
it is offered. I am always willing
to get the neighbor kids off the bus when mom or dad is running a little late
or to watch an extra kid so he doesn’t have to sit through his sister’s soccer
practice. I need to get rid of the
Mommy Guilt I feel when I need to lean on other people. I’ve never wanted to burden another
parent with any extra responsibilities because we ALL have a lot on our
plates.
It was such a relief when the other family asked if they
could take Large after practice so I wouldn’t have to drag Medium and Small to
yet another activity which would be rife with the temptation of bad
behavior. I HATE it when my
children act poorly, especially in public when there are witnesses, so being able to avoid
the possibility of a meltdown, either from my kids or myself, was a real
lifesaver.
Later in the day, while Small napped, we headed outside to
play catch. Sure enough, our
neighbor’s parents pulled into their usual parking space out front, and I made
the requisite jokes about parking there at their own risk, are you sure you
wanna park there, etc. Chuckle, chuckle, chuckle. The
neighbor’s daughter was playing too, so when I ran inside to make sure the baby
wasn’t crying, I gave her my glove.
One minute.
That’s as long as I was gone before Large ran in and said that she had
been hurt. He had thrown the ball
to/at her, it hit her square in the nose, and she was in pain.
Seriously? We
haven’t done enough damage to this family within the past few days?
I checked to make sure she was okay, then announced that
we’d be heading around back to play in hopes that we wouldn’t cause as much
damage to body or property.
Tomorrow I will suggest that they call their insurance agent and simply
explain that the BoyMommy family lives across the street, at which point their
agent will nod knowingly and amend any catastrophic policy they may already have.
Day 2 = Fail.
Day 2 = Fail.
Oh, Mommy. You are your generation's Erma Bombeck. XO
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