A Mommy Moment

I can tell that I am out of balance when my social graces start disappearing. When I’m out of whack my expectations become a tad unreasonable, my patience is thin, and holding my tongue takes extra-ordinary will power. So, what’s an out of balance stay-at-home-mom to do? Let’s go to the mall! And so we (me, Ave, and Ro) did just that.

Let me begin by saying that fat people and summer don’t mix (and yes, I’m speaking from experience). I’m total chub-club right now, and I swear I can feel every extra inch, bind, etcetera, when it is warm outside. I can tolerate it to a point, but beyond that, forget it. I’m totally scoping out the nearest air-conditioned hideaway.

So, I’m hot and my mood is fair, teetering on foul. Avery’s had a 0 for 2 record on the potty this morning, and had royally ticked me off by biting Romey. Mix in a little extra bossiness from my fair Avery and everything’s churning just fine. I’m determined though—we’ve got a few quick errands to do, and I’m thinking we can do it. We’re in the car, and we’re off.

We make it to the mall, and we’re unloading the double-stroller, and Avery decides that she doesn’t want to ride in the stroller today. Channeling my inner sweet mommy I tell her, “Sorry, honey, but you’ve got to ride in the stroller.” So I buckle her in—mind you it is a buckle that she can’t un-buckle—and we’re off to the first store.

Well, Avery still doesn’t want to ride in the stroller, so she bucks, and yells, and screams, “HELP!” Great, right? You know the drill—I can’t touch the kid. I can try to reason with her, negotiate with her, give her “the look,” and pull every piece of candy or food item from my purse to try and quiet my out-of-control three-year-old. When I first became a mom it really bothered me to have the out-of-control child. The curious glances and stares were really unsettling to me. Now I just kind of roll with it—knowing that my turn’s up today, and that the gawking mom’s turn will be up tomorrow. I’d be lying though to not admit that I’m thinking that they’re thinking that I’m the crappiest mom in the world, and that they just might be right. ;) But I’m embracing my crappiness, and am going to conquer these errands, and take no prisoners in the process.

This set the scene for two lapses in social graces. I won’t even document them because I know I blew it. I knew I had a choice to make, and I made the wrong one—twice. And I know that what I say sometimes isn’t nearly as bad as the looks I’m capable of giving. However, on this particular day my repertoire of looks wasn’t getting me anywhere—Avery was still bucking the system, and I was really getting annoyed with the kid. Romey’s still smiling, chewing on a toy, and Avery’s going berserk. What’s with this kid?

So, who should appear?—a woman in total headdress, covered head to toe in black drapery (except for her eyes). Avery starts gawking, and really who can blame her? I don’t dress in a headdress, and she’s probably never seen someone dressed like that before. It’s different; it’s curious. So, at the top of her lungs, Avery says, “Like Jesus!” Huh? Okay, I’m not making the connection either. Avery keeps repeating herself, the clerk is going on and on about their rewards program, and I’m desperately clicking my crocs together thinking get me out of here!

We did make it out of there, but without the help of an able-bodied gentleman who just stood there with this thumb up his......while I was struggling to get two kids (one of whom is bucking and crying), a double stroller, and some bags out of the mall exit. Seriously? Give a sister a hand!

Okay, we’re good. Thanks for going a little crazy with me. Praise God for a trip to Pleasantville. It’s time to pass the baton.