I have to admit I've almost written a post several times this week and just couldn't bring myself to do it. Why? Well, I had a really rough day on Tuesday and wanted to put several days between me and the horrible memories before talking about it. I'm already forgetting exactly how painful it was, so this is probably a good time to recap.
Tuesday started a little like any other day. I was up and ready before Ian woke, catching up with all my Facebooky friends before venturing in to get his day started. With his new schedule, I wake him up at 6:30 and want him in class by 7:15. That gives us about 30 minutes before we need to be starting toward the car. In retrospect, probably not enough time. I can feel the rush setting in if we start "coloring outside the lines" even a little bit. S'pose I need to push back that wake up a little.
Here's a little run down of where it all started to unravel:
Battle 1: Sock it to Me
Mommy: I need to run upstairs and get socks. I'll be right back
Ian: I want to come with you!
Mommy: No, I'll be back in 1 minute. Keep playing.
Ian: {panic whine kicking in} No! I go with mommy to the closet. Please!
Mommy: OK, hurry. We need to hurry.
Ian: I want to bring toys. {beginning to rummage through the toybox}
Mommy: Ian, let's go now or I'm going by myself.
5 toys in hand, Ian starts up the stairs, but one toy drops and falls three steps back. He goes back for that toy, but drops another, which falls to the bottom of the staircase. I ran back down to get it, but he said "I get it! I get it!" We start back up the stairs and the same thing happens to varying degrees twice more. Next, Polli ran past us up the stairs. She is now sitting at the top of the stairs waiting.
Ian: {whiny voice mode} I want Polli to walk with me! Get her!
Mommy: She's OK. She's waiting for us. Let's hurry and catch up.
Ian: {whine dial cranked up a few notches} No! Polli walks with Ian now!
Forgoing the "say please" lecture, I walked up the stairs and led Polli back down, who was looking at me like "what is going on here?". We eventually make it up the stairs as a group.
I grabbed my socks, but Ian wanted to stay behind and "play trains" in the closet. A few fake attempts at tears later, I finally got him out of the closet and heading back downstairs. One trip to his bedroom to swap out a toy that has now grown stale for a different one...and we were ready to head out the door. Whew. All that for socks. Moral: Be fully dressed and ready to head out the door before he's even out of bed.
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Battle 2: The Accident
So, with lunchbox in hand, we're finally ready to head out the door. We're only 10 minutes behind schedule, so not too much harm done at this point. I am exhausted after the sock incident though and was already thinking an "at home day" might be nice. Right as we're at the door, Ian announced that he needs to go potty. Great! Time is of the essence when he announces it, so we ran to the bathroom and got pullup down just in time... for the stream to hit my shirt & pants. He got soaked too.
Mommy: Ian, why didn't you wait until we were sitting down?
Ian: I didn't know! I not in trouble, huh?
Mommy: {exasperated} No, you're not in trouble, but we need to hurry and clean up so we can go to school. Next time, hold it inside until you're on the potty OK?
So, we headed upstairs to change. Just repeat the first half of the "socks incident" here. Seriously. When we got to the halfway point of the stairs, I sat down and put my face in my hands and cried. Cried hard! Ian didn't like it and was saying "mommy, don't cry OK?", with little tears in his voice. I don't know what the protocol is for crying in front of your child, but I just lost it. I cried and cried for a few minutes...really getting it all out. We hugged and kissed, and we continued up the stairs, both crying and holding hands. At this point he actually let me change him pretty quickly. I changed too, and we were back down the stairs to head to school. FINALLY!
Getting back downstairs, we found that Polli had thrown up on the carpet. Sigh. Got the enzyme spray and towels...cleaned that up while Ian went off to play puzzles... Polli was just as upset as we were. She's so sensitive...just like her mama.
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Battle 3: Stranded
We got to the car and buckled in, at which time Ian announced he was hungry and needed a snack. I didn't have a snack, only a sippy of juice, to which he responded with a newly mastered fake cry that should go up for Emmy awards. To the untrained ear, it might sound like he's really crying. I know better. At this point I told him he'd have to wait and get a snack at school, shut his door and went around to my side. I vividly remember at this point, thinking to myself how nice it would be to work from home, but had lots to do in the office, so I dismissed the thought.
Got in my side, only to realize my keys were in the ignition. In all the chaos back in the house, I never once looked for my keys (since I don't need them to lock the back door). Why were my keys in the ignition? Well, the night before, I was listening to a news story on the radio when I pulled in, and turned the key to that "kind of on, kind of off" position and sat to listen to the rest. While doing that, my phone rang and I turned the radio off to answer. While talking, I started gathering my things and headed toward the house. I guess I should be glad my car wasn't idling the entire time. I should also be glad that we have low/no crime in our neighborhood and my car was still in the driveway!
Turned the key and nothing. Not even a glimmer of hope. The battery was dead. Well, I got my wish. I would not be going in to the office. Meanwhile, the theatrics over the "treat that wasn't" was still going on in the backseat. I was ignoring him with every fiber of my being, not even at a place where I was the sane mom on the block. At this point, I absolutely understood how people can just go bonkers and run their car off a cliff. If only my battery weren't dead.
The other saving grace here is that Ian's school is now within walking distance. I was not at all in the state of mind to be stuck with him all day. Post negatively about that if you like, but I think we've all been there. I absolutely wanted to be as far from him as possible, even if just for a few minutes.
We got out and started walking. This is great in Ian's book since he loves to go for walks. It's a 5 minute walk at a grown up pace, but anywhere from 10-30+ with Ian depending on what there is to see and do along the way. Besides wanting to find rocks to throw in drains and splash in mudpuddles with his non-muddpuddle splashing shoes... It was a fairly uneventful walk.
We arrived almost 40 minutes later than usual, and then began the drop off hysterics. His teacher is great about diverting his attention and she allowed me to say my goodbyes and get out of there while she took a crying Ian to "go on a special toy mission". For such a young girl (early 20's), she's great at what she does...better than his last teacher and better than I could do, especially when she and her assistant have other kids to give that same attention to.
I left and walked to Starbucks for coffee, then headed home to email my boss to let him know I would be working from home, like it or not. So glad he's an easy going guy! In fact, his suggestion was that I take a break and go to the Ridge shoe store to treat myself. My boss told me to, so if I do it during business hours, I guess it's OK, right? Ha.
Although frazzled and emotionally wrung out, I worked all the way through to 3:30pm. Of course, I had to walk to pick Ian up, so I headed out with a calmer state of mind. Picked him up to hear that he had a rough day too, would not eat much, and refused to go on the potty all day. Looked like he and I were feeding off each other's bad mojo.
From school, we headed toward the grocery store with the intent of picking up a few things for dinner before walking home. He was in a pretty good mood, so I was looking forward to an easy evening in comparison to the earier part of the day.
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Battle 4: The Bait & Switch
On the way, we passed part of our neighborhood's retail area, which includes an insurance office. In the window, they've cleverly parked a wagon filled with stuffed animals and balls. He naturally stopped to look in the window, which was the cue to the bored insurance salesperson inside to open the door and ask Ian if he would like a free ball or bear. Sure. Why not. He walked in to pick a ball, but around the corner was a much more enticing assortment of toys... a play area with old cars and trains. Of course Ian wanted those toys, not the boring ball or bear.
Insurance Lady to Ian: Maybe you can play with those toys while your mommy and I talk about insurance.
Mommy: {Really PO'd because this was a dirty trick} We're not interested in changing insurance, thanks. Ian, let's get going before it starts raining.
Ian: {Instant tantrum!} No, I want to stay, please! {Death grip on the woman's toys}.
Insurance Lady: {Smug expression} Oops!
Mommy: {Sarcasm, with a touch of "I'm going to rip your face off"} Ya think? Not a good idea.
So, I carried out a kicking and screaming 3 year old and continued down the block. Thanks lady. Thanks for ruining what might have been a salvaged day. You can bet we won't be using their services any time soon.
I was able to get Ian focused on a man trimming shrubs with a chain saw type trimmer, and we were able to continue to the store. Riding in the "car cart" seemed to redeem the situation and I was momentarily relieved.
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Battle 5: Rainy Days and Bullies
As we stood in line to pay, I glanced outside to see a torrential downpour. Absolutely raining cats and dogs out there... and we were on foot with no umbrella. Great. This is lovely!
We went to Starbucks to kill some time, but it looked like every other mom in the area had the same idea and Ian gravitated toward a group of kids with puzzles while I paid for our drinks. Of course these girls did not think it was cute to have a little "baby" touching their things and one girl forcefully retrieved a taken toy from Ian's hand and told him to go away. MAJOR "she just pulled my hand from the socket" meltdown while the gal behind the counter slowly completed my transaction. Oh my. The day was apparently not over yet.
Got our drinks and headed for home. Fine for Ian who had a hood and cared about nothing but splashing in puddles... Not so great for mom who carried everything, including his lunch bag, groceries, both drinks, and my purse...and no hood. Sigh. This was bound to be the final straw, right?
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Battle 6: The Juicy Blackberry
We made it home in one piece, dried out a bit and proceeded to start dinner. Ian asked for a drink and I vaguely remembered a sippy I had stowed in my purse for the walk. I opened my purse and immediately knew something was wrong. A pool of cherry juice...nice concentrated, red, stainy cherry juice... sat in the bottom of my purse, covering my wallet, several receipts, some work notes, a sheet of stamps, money, and oh yeah... my Blackberry. My phone. My expensive little lifeline that makes all things mobile-y possible. Drowning in cherry juice. Lifted the purse and a nice stain was forming on our raw oak table. Nice. REALLY REALLY nice. The good news is that the table didn't get stained and I was able to dry out the battery and SIM card for my phone. After about 12 hours, it appeared to be OK. Still not completely sure.
That's the end of it. We were both pretty darn exhausted and went straight to bath after dinner. I had decided that if Shawn came home and even so much looked at me sideways, used a sarcastic tone, asked for a favor, made a comment about a purchase or the laundry, or ANYTHING shy of an Edward Cullen caliber response (a Twilight reference)... I was going to pack my bags. Maybe wait until after the Maui trip, but I was definitely packing my bags. I'd take Ian of course. And Polli... but I'd pack my bags. I wouldn't go far because I like my commute. And I'm not giving up my house. But I'd pack my bags. Maybe. I'd think about it.
Well, when Shawn came home I told him about my battery and told him that if he didn't want to sit quietly through a full blown vent, he'd better not ask about my day. I think he could tell it was really bad. I'm happy to report I didn't pack my bags. Didn't threaten with papers. Whew. I'd say he's lucky, but I think he was probably just petrified. Whatever look I had in my eyes, it said "Don't f'ing mess with me right now or you'll regret it".
So that was my day Tuesday. You can probably see why I needed to let a few days pass before talking about it. For those still around after this epic autobiography, I apologize if anything I said or did was offensive or against your opinion...but I think it either has or will happen to all of us at one point or another. I realized that this was probably not going to be my only bad day and there would be lots of good days, too. I also realized that a good majority of what happened during the day was completely out of my control. More than anything, I realized that working to prevent the tantrums (aka, inviting him up the stairs to get socks) made things worse and the tantrums will (and did) end, so letting him cry for a minute isn't going to kill him (or me, even though I hate to see him sad, angry, scared, mad, etc.).
It reminds me so much of my helplessness when we first arrived home because he wouldn't let me put him down... and many people told me "he won't die if you put him on the floor for a few minutes" and... knock me over with a feather... they were right. Now, I can't even BEGIN to imagine carrying him around all day (sort of physically impossible now, 18 months later). He lived then and he'll live now. My Blackberry on the other hand can't handle much more of that treatment.
So, to keep this from being the longest blog rant in history, I'll stop there. I will say that every day since has been incrementally better than the one before. Our weather is shaping up to be perfect for the weekend, so I'm expecting more good days ahead.
I'll post some pics from our week, despite the bad Tuesday... and then I'll post about our adventurous Friday with Grandma Trish today.
A definite highlight amongst all the chaos was the gorgeous potted Orchid I received by special express delivery from my brother, Rex. I hope I don't kill it, but it is SO gorgeous!
Practicing "say cheese" for school pictures on Thursday
I love those eyebrows
Chillin in "daddy's spot" (where Shawn eats dinner).
Mommy needs a drink. The Starbucks rival store in our neighborhood makes great drinks and they always add impressive "flair" to their drinks. You don't get this at Starbucks! This drink is called the "Comfort Latte". You can imagine why I ordered it... and no comfort does mean there's Southern Comfort in it... One could only wish.
Relaxing at the coffee shop
Pondering his next chess move
Clearing out my pawns. He actually said the Rook looked sad.
I was thinking of sending him to the pokie, but changed my mind at the last second.
We passed this condo and he wanted to sit on their porch and pet their cat. No, we don't know them... and the cat may look friendly, but he ran off as soon as Ian made his move. It was hard to explain that cats aren't always quite as eager to be petted as dogs.
Bug hunting with Grandpa Tom
Jamming with Grandpa and Daddy
Home from Grandma & Grandpa's house... Carrying his own overnight bag
I had to include these scenery shots. My camera's not that great on super zooms, but I forget sometimes that not everyone who reads this is from here. We take it for granted since this is pretty much a daily sight from any given vantage point.
Our little family (minus Polli... no dogs allowed on this beach).
Taking it all in
Taking a walk 
Checking out a crab shell
It's never a bad day when it ends like this! 
This was one of the craft stations. We painted each other's hands and made hand prints on either side of a Mother's Day poem. I didn't get Ian to spread his fingers before he made the hand print...but it still turned out precious. A real keeper.
He just HAD to show me how the soap and sink work... he acted like it was revolutionary... unlike anything he's seen before. I guess that means we don't wash our hands at home enough. Guilty!
