So I have spent the past two days down at Grange Fair with Johnny. I'm quite proud of both of us, really. It is no small feat to have him out and about in public for as long as he was, let alone 2 days in a row! We were gone from about 11:30-4 yesterday and 10-6 today. For some of those hours I had extra help, for some of them I didn't. Wednesday we even ran a few errands over the course of the day and it went pretty well. The biggest incident through all of this week happened about 15 minutes after Erin left us at the fair. (Isn't it always true that if you have someone with you to specifically observe undesired behavior, the kid will act up the minute they're gone?!) Anyway, I had Johnny and Ruthie (my cousin's kid) with me and we were trying to win a fish. You know that game where you throw ping-pong balls at little cups of colored water (sometimes mini fishbowls) and try to win a penny fish? Yeah... that one. Well, guess who didn't win?
Johnny started kicking and screaming about his loss and then darted off into the crowd. I had to chase him down. I was squatted down talking to him and trying to get him to calm down and then he darted off into the crowd for a second time. Ruthie! I'm so lucky I had my mom with me to stay with her while I chased my little guy because there is no way I could have done both. I ended up having to carry him back to the wagon I'd had them riding around in and, honestly, I'll admit, bribe him into staying in until we got back to our tent. Really, I'd have done just about anything to make sure he didn't go running off again. Man -- that kid can run! I have to figure out a better way to handle such a dangerous situation, because telling him (repeatedly) that it wasn't a safe choice really didn't seem to phase him. Stern voice and all, he wasn't buying what I was selling. "You could fall down and get badly hurt, you could get lost, someone bad could take you and keep you from ever seeing mommy ever again," and the list goes on. Nope. No reaction. Nada.
Mommy needed a minute to breathe, even if he didn't.
After saying goodbye to my mom, who had to go, I eventually got the kids back to my family's tent. Johnny seemed calm again and so we stayed. It wasn't until about 2 hours later that he began to show me that the day was over. I had promised Steve I would stop and pick up dinner for him at the new BBQ shack in town, using an awesome coupon that would make it cost all of about $3, so I just packed Johnny up and headed that way. Steve's coworkers wanted to try some too, so I ended up with a whole list of stuff to get. While I was a little anxious about getting the kid unloaded to go in and wait for food to be made, I figured I had already promised everyone and it wouldn't be too bad, right? Well... then the kid did sprints back and forth all over the restaurant no matter how many times I tried to force him to stay with me. Then while I was carrying a huge bag of food and 3 large drinks to the car, he choose to pull on me, let go, pull on me, let go, (almost making me face-plant several times) and then stopped in the middle of the parking lot and refused to walk any further. I was still shocked. Enraged, scared, and shocked. After this afternoon's scare at the fair, you'd think I would be ready for him to stand dead-still in the middle of a crowded parking lot, but no. I was just dumbfounded. A car just about hit him before I could literally shove him out of the way.
Enter Bad Mommy.
I yelled. I yelled at the top of my lungs. I yelled at the top of my lungs and with my only free pinkie I dragged and, with my knees, shepherded my son over to our car. I set everything down on the ground, unlocked the door, and glared my son into his seat. I strapped him in and slammed the door. Bad Mommy. I know, my actions weren't the least bit productive. I didn't set a good example, I didn't make "good choices" of my own, and I wasn't even remotely caring and gentle. Strike that, I was caring. Yelling because you're scared out of your wits for someone isn't the typical definition of caring, but it certainly came from the part of me that cares too much about my kid to let him get run over.
I spent the whole drive to AT&T trying to calm myself with deep breaths and the reassurance that Johnny can't yet escape his car seat. I could keep him strapped in place as long as it would take for me to chill out. Lucky for him, by the time we made it home I was a little better.
Safety! It is something that he seems to be so aware of most of the time. We can tell him, "that isn't safe" and he responds so well! Why, when it comes to one of the biggest safety issues, doesn't he pay any attention?
My beautiful little boy is now sitting downstairs playing a game on his iPad and politely asking his daddy to pour him a drink. Angelic, amazing, sweet, "awesomesauce"... but for having had such a good week overall, he managed to scare the crap out of me twice.
Gotta stay safe, buddy.
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Johnny started kicking and screaming about his loss and then darted off into the crowd. I had to chase him down. I was squatted down talking to him and trying to get him to calm down and then he darted off into the crowd for a second time. Ruthie! I'm so lucky I had my mom with me to stay with her while I chased my little guy because there is no way I could have done both. I ended up having to carry him back to the wagon I'd had them riding around in and, honestly, I'll admit, bribe him into staying in until we got back to our tent. Really, I'd have done just about anything to make sure he didn't go running off again. Man -- that kid can run! I have to figure out a better way to handle such a dangerous situation, because telling him (repeatedly) that it wasn't a safe choice really didn't seem to phase him. Stern voice and all, he wasn't buying what I was selling. "You could fall down and get badly hurt, you could get lost, someone bad could take you and keep you from ever seeing mommy ever again," and the list goes on. Nope. No reaction. Nada.
Mommy needed a minute to breathe, even if he didn't.
After saying goodbye to my mom, who had to go, I eventually got the kids back to my family's tent. Johnny seemed calm again and so we stayed. It wasn't until about 2 hours later that he began to show me that the day was over. I had promised Steve I would stop and pick up dinner for him at the new BBQ shack in town, using an awesome coupon that would make it cost all of about $3, so I just packed Johnny up and headed that way. Steve's coworkers wanted to try some too, so I ended up with a whole list of stuff to get. While I was a little anxious about getting the kid unloaded to go in and wait for food to be made, I figured I had already promised everyone and it wouldn't be too bad, right? Well... then the kid did sprints back and forth all over the restaurant no matter how many times I tried to force him to stay with me. Then while I was carrying a huge bag of food and 3 large drinks to the car, he choose to pull on me, let go, pull on me, let go, (almost making me face-plant several times) and then stopped in the middle of the parking lot and refused to walk any further. I was still shocked. Enraged, scared, and shocked. After this afternoon's scare at the fair, you'd think I would be ready for him to stand dead-still in the middle of a crowded parking lot, but no. I was just dumbfounded. A car just about hit him before I could literally shove him out of the way.
Enter Bad Mommy.
I yelled. I yelled at the top of my lungs. I yelled at the top of my lungs and with my only free pinkie I dragged and, with my knees, shepherded my son over to our car. I set everything down on the ground, unlocked the door, and glared my son into his seat. I strapped him in and slammed the door. Bad Mommy. I know, my actions weren't the least bit productive. I didn't set a good example, I didn't make "good choices" of my own, and I wasn't even remotely caring and gentle. Strike that, I was caring. Yelling because you're scared out of your wits for someone isn't the typical definition of caring, but it certainly came from the part of me that cares too much about my kid to let him get run over.
I spent the whole drive to AT&T trying to calm myself with deep breaths and the reassurance that Johnny can't yet escape his car seat. I could keep him strapped in place as long as it would take for me to chill out. Lucky for him, by the time we made it home I was a little better.
Safety! It is something that he seems to be so aware of most of the time. We can tell him, "that isn't safe" and he responds so well! Why, when it comes to one of the biggest safety issues, doesn't he pay any attention?
My beautiful little boy is now sitting downstairs playing a game on his iPad and politely asking his daddy to pour him a drink. Angelic, amazing, sweet, "awesomesauce"... but for having had such a good week overall, he managed to scare the crap out of me twice.
Gotta stay safe, buddy.
.JPG)
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