Tantrums...REally?

After years of watching other people's children, I am that Mom at the grocery store with the screaming child I cannot manage. Well, in truth, I can manage him just fine. Let him scream, it doesn't bother me in the least. It is the other patrons I am concerned about. If we were at home he could scream it out, in the store, where other people's comfort is important, I must distract him with something new until that wears off and then...try again.

Today it was first, holding the cantaloupe. Then after a minute he tried to eat it and I put it in the basket. That allowed for a minute of reaching over his seat to try and reach it, grunting and twisting until his anger built and he started screeching. Next distraction...here, take Mommy's keys. After 30 seconds they are dropped in the back of the cart with the unsuspecting cantaloupe. Next a walk down the card aisle. He is distracted by the pictures and cartoons and finally content, but I find myself thinking...am I really adding more time to this experience by delaying the inevitable. Thus, the trip tracks on. I make jokes. I tear a cup from it's packaging and he pretends to drink out of it, chucks that in the cart and screams. I scold. I act tough. I use my "Mommy's had enough" voice. I poor Almond Milk in the cup and try that again. It lasts a couple sips. He acts theatrical about drinking it, rocking his head back and forth, chucks it on the ground.

On the way to the check-out line, he gets his arms around my waist and tries pulling himself into my arms. He starts to get desperate and begins crying. I pick him up (all 32 pounds of him) on my hip as I unload the cart. Finally when enough space is made I plunk him in the back of the cart as I finish unloading. A lady comments about how well behaved and sweet he is and I say that he's being rather difficult, that this is the only way to keep him from crying or screaming. She giggles as he picks up the rather large cantaloupe. Oh yes, he is cute. Yes, he is strong and acts like such a little man some times. Yes, he is making a liar out of me. She says just that and I smile nervously. Sigh.

He sits pretty and sweet until we get to the car. I unload the groceries, put the cart away, strap him in, strap myself in...and he screams (doesn't cry) SCREAMS, banging his head into seat over and over until we get home. Oh Oliver...we (and probably a lot of future teachers) are really in for it!

New Day!

Tried to write a blog and our connection won’t let me through. Worst connection in history; people wonder why I am bad about updates, Facebook, and email responses. Lots of restarting the computer, connection still bad. Would love to cancel our T-mobile wireless stick but…it’s complicated and we’re locked in for another year--Sunflower returning to our home soon. I can’t even imagine what high-speed internet is like anymore. *freedom* [Geeky smile]

It was a great day today; the first day working at the Renaissance Festival in some time. Oliver will be one in a week and I was anxious to show him off. The day started on a bad foot. In my state of never-ending tired I set my alarm for us to be perched to leave for the time I was actually hoping to get there…oops. Hubby woke on the wrong side of the bed, small argument ensued--It as a really bad approach to two bad moods. Finally we made peace and actually turned our disagreement into something good. Apologies and a better understanding, a plan for treating similar situations in the future, a happy me that I found a person so willing…

The drive to Bonner Springs quite beautiful. A winding 32 Highway road, hits 138th street, the hills make our tummy drop and Oliver says “wo” like Joey on Blossom. He smiles at us from the backseat and makes squinty eyes in an attempt to make faces at us. All his faces result in a squinty eyed look, but his effort, not to mention understanding is wildly endearing and I fall in love with him all over again. Bobby laughs out loud at our sweet little boy and I remind him how good we did, how lucky we are.

It’s not yet nine a.m. and I’ve text Amy at least ten times…she is encouraging and makes me smile. My lucky bones are aching.

We get to festival and the weather is perfect. Set-up, get-dressed, I watch Oliver crawl about on the deck floor of Sky Chairs excited. Say hi to old friends, greet familiar looking strangers, and wish I could remember the names of those I recognize who can remember me. I wait to ask their name hoping I’ll remember. Oh yes, it gets dropped in conversation…I feel restored and reminded. I am an O.K. neighbor. Bobby roams in and out of the shop with Oliver throughout the morning. The day starts with good sales, but I immediately make a mistake with the cost. Only three sales affected and I’ll fix it some how.

I see babies (families) I photographed. I am so relieved that I remember their names. The babies delightful and the pictures had been quite good. It is a nice feeling. I get to be myself and they sought me out…what a good feeling, I love my job.

Later we take Oliver on the Merry-Go-Round Swing. Pushed in the center by the boy scouts, it is really too big a “ride” for such a young baby, but he spins past us again and again with no expression…finally a smile. I take his picture and wonder what this feeling is…nervous feeling, fear maybe. I know my baby is fine but oh how scary watching him take on the world. I feel relieved that he is enjoying himself. How awful were he to have been scared. He smiles again and catches our eye as he whips by. I yell “Oliver” each time and he barely looks up, but Bobby chants his name and he snaps his head clearly in our direction.

He hates to sit in the stroller. He arches his back and squeals. Mostly we make him comply with the arrangement. This time I pick him up, so elated for his swing experience, so grateful for the time with him. He is happy to have his Mommy, but his attention is diverted. He puts his hand on my face and pushes it to the side so he can see past. He likes the camels but is not interested in the elephant. He holds his hand out toward the camel and says “that.”; his word for everything. I think he is very smart.

We run into old friends and I am elated to see them. They’re wonderful and enchanted by Oliver. Again that feeling of pride, in them as my friends and in my son. Their kids who I babysat are teenagers, they say “weird” when they see that I have a baby. They new me as a teenager myself. They love Oliver and I am sad to see them go.

The day ends and we are wrecked. It feels like three days have passed. I feel my hands powdered with dirt, my contacts dry, my legs hot, and my ribs aching under the bodice. I strip and change, cover the inventory, load the car, and we leave.

At QT I take little man in the store to change him. He is shirtless and I giggle a joke in my head about re-defining “no shoes, no shirt, no service.” Thank goodness for a multi-person restroom. I zoom into the handicap stall with the changing table and listen as the bathroom fills up behind me. I can hear the crowd gathering as they discuss the gross porti-potties at the festival. I’m shocked because I think they are kept incredibly clean, but it is true, people are inconsiderate about using them. I pull off Oliver’s diaper, he pees all over himself—the first time since he was brand new. I begin mopping pee and baby wiping his back and side. Bobby has aired the tire and we head home.

In the car, Oliver falls asleep and I feel happy. He is so sweet, so tired. We all feel wrecked and we can’t wait to be home. The road is pretty…tomorrow is so soon. At home my little brother would like to visit and I use it as an excuse to quick straighten the house. I pull the laptop onto the floor and finish where I started off. My connection is bad and I write in Word about my day. A kitty curled at my elbow, Hopper under my chin, another kitty looking curiously at the screen, Bobby and brother + on the porch, Oliver in bed, and mine yelling my name from behind me. Ready to be there…more later.