Sunday, March 15, 2015

A Walk to Remember


Aaaah! Spring gave us a lovely preview this weekend. It was wonderful to be outside without 20 layers weighing us down. We spent as much time outside as possible, enjoying being free from the confines of the house.

Yesterday morning, while Mark was off getting a haircut, the kids wanted to go for a walk. It all started off so well. The kids happily walking together. Lainey's arm hugging Nick's shoulder. Me, following behind, casually sipping my coffee. Lainey was pointing out the airplanes in the sky, and Nick seemed to be on a pinecone scavenger hunt. Every time he found one, he'd grab it, shout "PINECONE," and then hurl it into someone's yard.

Well, because Nick was stopping every three feet to throw a pinecone, he and I ended up lagging a bit on Lainey. When we were about half way around the block, I told her to come back and walk with us. She whirled around and started running toward us, only to trip over some uneven sidewalk and bite it hard. Nick and I ran up to her, and I picked her up and tried to calm her down. She was legitimately hurt, but, drawing on her usual flair for the dramatic, she was reacting as if she had shattered her knee caps and was screaming at the top of her lungs. It was only 8:30 AM, so I was trying to turn her volume down as quickly as possible.

During the 15 seconds that I was focused solely on Lainey, Nick busied himself finding another pinecone. Only this time it wasn't a pinecone. It was a large piece of dried dog poop. Perhaps it was the look of digust and horror on my face that told him this "pinecone" was special and he shouldn't just casually toss is away like all the others. No, he should fight to the death to keep this pinecone in his clutches. Since he wouldn't drop it on command, I sat Lainey down on the sidewalk, still bawling, and pried the poop from his fist, only to have him slap me in the face with his poop-contaminated hand and then start screaming at the top of HIS lungs--"PINECONE!!! Piiiiinecooooooone!"

So, now I had two wailing children, both refusing to continue the walk home. I abandonned my coffee thermos and hitched one kid on each hip and started the march home as quickly as possible. I'd just rounded the second corner and had the house in my sites. My arms were burning and my ears were ringing from the screaming. A lovely older couple passed us, and said, chuckling, "Oh my! Looks like you have your hands full!" I painted on my best fake smile, and shouted, "you know it!," when I really wanted to say "Kiss my @!#." I know they were just being friendly, but I wasn't feeling like a playful ribbing from a stranger. Call me crazy. Word of advice friends, if you see someone in a similar situation, the kind thing to do is avert your eyes and keep walking. Because that person is in no mood for delightful banter.

By the time we made it back to the house, both of the kids had calmed themselves and I thought we were through the drama. But, noooo. Nick had no intention of going inside the house and fell apart again as soon as we stepped through the door. First order of business was to wash his hands. Lainey may be bleeding, but cleaning Nick's hands of feces was the clear priority. Well, this didn't sit well with our little princess, so she started bawling again. Of course, once I washed Nick's hands and turned to address her wounds, she started screaming because she didn't want me to wash them. I was actually okay with this. Scrapes hurt. I don't like having to clean them up myself, so I can't expect a three-year-old to sit calmly through the ordeal (even if it is just a teeny-tiny, barely visible drop of blood). While I'm trying to hold Lainey's leg still and be as gentle as possible, Nick decides I'm now his favorite person in the world and is hanging from my neck wailing, "Mommy! Mommy!" Not to be outdone, Lainey starts screaming louder. Then she wanted a Tiana bandaid, but the only princesses left in the box were Cinderella or Aurora.

"How about Rapunzel?," she asked through sobs.

"No, baby, we only have Cinderella or Aurora."

"But, what about Ariel?" she pleaded.

"No, Lainey. Cinderella or Aurora." To which she erupted into the loudest sob of all, "Why is this happening?!!!! Why don't we have the other princesses?!!!"

And all I could do was collapse in laughter, because this situation was just too ridiculous. I'd love to say my laughter was so infectious that both the kids also started laughing, and we went merrily about our morning. In reality, it took another 15 minutes, a waffle, banana, and a pound of strawberries (no joke--they ate a POUND of strawberries) to get the munchkins cheery again. I just poured myself a strong drink (okay, so it was just strong coffee).

Maybe I'll take a few more days of winter and being cooped up in the house afterall...

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