Apparently we are never EVER supposed to lose sight of our children … like, ever.
I’ll rewind because today was fraught with at least 27 of those 758 lessons. Up first, i will from here on out always ALWAYS put my 2 year old in a nighttime pull up/diaper/pad with masking tape/pillow case, whatever i need to so that the morning of a big fun day, i’m not woken up at 5:30am with
“moOOOOOOmmmaaaaa! I all WET!!”
Secondly, i don’t care how f-ing rainy and wet it is outside, the dog WILL be put outside the entire morning before leaving for said trip. .. i’ll get to the why later.
Up next, any and all trash that is bagged up to be taken out WILL BE taken out. I don’t care how sweet and amazing our dog usually is. He will wait for a day like this to make us rethink his halo.
I will buy my 2 year old proper snow mittens next time we go to the snow.
I will nevereverevereverEVERRRRRRR take for granted my 2 year old will be following me when i say, “Let’s go”… even if i have JUST looked to see she’s coming.
And we have come to the main reason for today’s post. We had just had a fun great day at the snow. Our first snow trip since moving to this beautiful state. It was so infectious, my husband even cracked a smile or three. I did not get photo evidence, but take my word for it.
So we stop for lunch on the way back at McD’s. … as did half the people who left the snow.
I find the one table that will accommodate two little whippersnappers, their bag of toys, and their two big giant parents and all the food that will soon be coming.
Unfortunately this table was right next to the bathrooms. After ten minutes of foot traffic in and out of the latrines, I was done and grossed out.
I waited for another table to clear, and right before my husband brought us our cuisine food troughs, we moved 2 tables away from the bathroom. I grabbed the gear, i watched my son go, i watch my daughter climb down from the chair, i turn to set things down TWO TABLES away .. not across the restaurant. Not behind a wall. Not around a corner.
I set my stuff down and don’t see her.
I turn to the first table and out of the corner of my eye see the men’s bathroom door closing … closing on my 2 year old.
WTF ?!@
I run for the door. At this point my husband is at the table with my 6 year old. I open it and call her. She half turns to me and just keeps walking.
and walking
and walking
As we are passing man after man and urinal after stinky disgusting urinal
She ends up following an older man into the one stall at the end of the bathroom who leaves the door open and starts to unzip.
I yell “WAIT WAITWAITSTOPWAIT!”
Grab my monster – the kid, not the man -and hang my head trying not to make eye contact for fear of seeing something in that florescent light that will further brain damage me.
“Sorry!”
walk out the same color as her shiny sequin pink boots.
She just looked dazed and confused the whole time.
And i can’t blame the chemicals in the food because we hadn’t eaten anything yet!!!
So i was left shaken up, embarrassed, confused, and flabbergasted… and grossed out.
It was like peeking behind a very dirty and dingy stinky curtain of the netherworld.
I immediately wanted to shower and bathe my daughter.
So we get through lunch. My kid reminding me every minute and a half “I walk away!”, and load back into the van for the trip home.
We manage to get home after the 2 year old has been snoozing for about half an hour. I take her into the house, and up the stairs. I pass the kitchen and see the trash bag that had been there decimated and diapers, wrappers, and other debris scattered all over the floor.
I scowl and yell at the dog the best i could with a sleepy toddler in my arms.
I get her to her room and find the poo.
It’s at that moment i wonder why people think a kid/dog combo is a good idea for life. It’s not.
I tell myself to breath. I don’t want the blood pressure to implode my head at that moment and add to the mess.
I turn on her TV which has Netflix access. She watches an episode of something before nap time. Today it will double as babysitter while i clean the mess as husband cleans out the van and collects the other offspring.
But nooOOOOooo silly mother! The Netflix is magically not connected suddenly.
No babysitter.
I clean the poop.
I wash the hands
i reset the device
and i exclaim in my happy princess voice how unhappy with the whole f-ing situation i am.
I had the bright idea to lay down with her in my bed instead. I was feeling still out of place and terrible about what happened earlier.
Stupidstupidstupid idea.
My rest and quiet time was feet kicking the back of my head once the program was turned off in the hopes she would lay down and rest.
Head kick
“what the f was i thinking”
Head kick “moooooooommeeeeeeeeeeeeeee all done”
“lay down or you go to your room”
“NooOOOOO”
body slammed so her mouth is directly over my ear
“moommmmmmeeee want sum-ping to eat.”
Head kick
For forty-five minutes
The haze of the morning’s snow play and happiness is gone. It’s now mired by cranky grumpy sleepy me, a not-to-be-reasoned-with sleepy hungry toddler. My husband was tortured equally so in the living room by the 6 year old.
We have both been left just as grumpy as before the trip, sadly.
So now we look forward to bedtime. All the stress will melt away with the shutting of the little one’s peepers and the big exhalation 30 minutes after bedtime after all the chatter and possible cries for water, snacks, potty, books, and the meaning of life quiet down.
Lessons learned, life. Lessons learned.
Sarcasmica 