Yesterday, Biggest hit the Mommy wall, surprisingly, so did Littlest. You know, that wall that makes you the Mom with the all-seeing eyes in the back of your head, and the ability to see right through that innocent little grin? That wall.
I had a rough morning yesterday, it was just plain strange, so I thought I’d take Biggest and Littlest out for lunch, get some meat, and head home to meet my mother for tea. Admittedly, it’s been a busy week, but it’s just a short jaunt, right?
Right. But not the short I was planning on. We had a lovely walk there, lots of giggles, said “hi” to the waitresses instead of greeting them with “cheese sandwich please”… It was promising! Until we sat down. Apparently I forgot Biggest’s cup. Not usually a big deal, we had a bit of an attitude, followed by patient waiting for our server to get a glass of water for him. It arrived, and he started playing with the ice cubes. Keep in mind that I, in my brilliance, have taken both of them by myself. Clearly a dumb idea. Not that I don’t think I’m capable, I’m just normally not that stupid. While Biggest is attempting to ice his man-parts (unbeknownst to me), I attempted to feed Littlest his cereal. I guess he was past hungry, because I overfilled him. I didn’t realize this, and he didn’t give me any cues, until he spit up half of his milk. While he was spitting up his milk, I realized Biggest’s pants were soaked. I took the cup away, and held the straw for him. I continued feeding Littlest with my other hand. My Eggs Benny arrived. Realizing that Littlest’s cup was making more of a mess than I had planned (packed) for, I used all the napkins at the table to clean his coat off. I gave Biggest back his cup without realizing that I had done so. Littlest screamed at me the whole time. By screamed, I mean that screaming tantrum he’s randomly perfected (I am pretty sure they started three months ago without me noticing.). Sitting in the middle of a restaurant by yourself with two screaming kids, having been seated in the centre, is, in a word, awkward. Yes, it deserved to be in bold. Even bold doesn’t do that kind of awkward justice.
Splash. Yep, that was Biggest’s cup. Dumped upside down. It was all over the floor, filled up a chunk of my diaper bag, and soaked my carrier, Biggest’s jacket, and the rest of his pants. I am done. I pack up our lunches, I pack up the kids, I request a mop, and I haul myself out the door. I sincerely hope the glare I was giving Biggest was taken appropriately by the rest of the diners as “just you wait until we get home child!”. Still being stupid, I took Biggest and Littlest into the butcher’s to get chicken. I paid for the chicken, and instead of hauling straight home, I dragged both of them to the other errand I was planning on doing. I chatted with the nice ladies at the store, explained why Biggest was not allowed to have a cookie, and we left. Unfortunately for me, Biggest discovered the emotion “embarrassment” while we were there. He didn’t know how to handle it. I wasn’t really in a frame of mind to realize what was going on. We continued home. Since Biggest was now angry (probably confused about the whole embarassing feeling, and mad at me for making him feel it in the first place) and refusing to hold my hand, I had to hang on to his coat sleeve. 30 minutes later we arrived home. Every time we stopped, Biggest stomped and jumped up and down screaming. He screamed when we were walking too. He screamed even louder when he realized he couldn’t loosen my grip on his coat sleeve, screamed louder than that when he realized that hitting me wasn’t making a difference, and finally resigned himself to holding my hand so we could walk slower. Littlest fell asleep.
Today’s been boot camp in a way. Littlest is being weaned off of screaming tantrums, and Biggest is learning that Mommy’s done with vacuuming up the cheerios. As I recall, it had something to do with him deliberately dumping them on his bed, giving me a shit-eating grin, and saying “big mess Mommy, I not cleaning it up.”.
I’m kind of done right now. Wish me luck.