There are days when your children are so enjoyable, so beautiful to be around that you just want to bottle that day so you could open it up for recollection during dark points of your life. Then there are days when you literally wish you could put your children in a bottle, cork it up, and throw them out to open sea. Yesterday was one of the latter.
Madalyn was supposed to be my dream child. I mean what do most women long for? A beautiful daughter - dresses and hair bows and shopping trips. When David was born, I struggled. We did not instantly bond. He cried all of the time. No kidding, he cried for four solid months. He would not take a nap. He really did not like to be held. I had no idea what to do with him. But when Madalyn was born, it was instant. She was the textbook baby - slept for two hours, would whimper when hungry, ate just the right amount, burped with a gentle pat on the back. Ahhhhhh... sweet relief! God had answered my prayers! But as the many months have gone by, I have noticed a drastic shift. She wakes up barking orders. She screams - no, shrieks - if she doesn't get her way. She does not hesitate to throw herself onto the floor or throw something at me. She hits. She is out of control.
Yesterday afternoon, I loaded the kids in the car to go and get David's haircut. It was long overdue and he has a little program at school tonight. I didn't want him to trip and fall on stage because he couldn't see through his hair. And after the haircut, we stopped by our local department store to pick up a new pair of pajamas (they are to dressing their winter pajamas for the program). It was drizzling, and I didn't want to fool with the stroller for such a quick trip in and out. So - BIG MISTAKE - I let Madalyn walk. We started out with me holding her hand. But she kept pulling on my arm and just generally bothering me. So, I thought I would try and let her walk alongside her brother. Madalyn decided to run, squealing, through the aisles of clothes saying, "You can't get me! Ha! Ha!" So then I pick her up and attempt to carry her. This didn't work, as she just screamed and kicked until I truly had no choice but to put her down. By this point, amazingly, David had picked out a pair of pajamas - camo pants with a big monster truck on the shirt. Every 6 year old boy's dream. We got in line behind just one customer. Easy in and out, I thought. Madalyn and David make a beeline for the breakables in the housewares section. I immediately put that fire out saying that no way, no how are they going to break something in this store. And so we wait, listening to the cashier and the customer go back and forth talking about what she is buying and which outfit would be "more dressier" (which just perturbs me even more - it is either "more dressy" or "dressier" - get it right lady). I just would always like to think that someone would step to the side and say, "You go ahead. You, with the screaming child and smoke coming out of your ears. You just go ahead of me." Since becoming a mother, I have done this countless times. But no, we just continue to chit chat and at one point even turn around and say to me, "She's so cute." Are you kidding me? So, when I felt my blood boil straight to the top of my ears, I just put the clothes down and left. I have never felt so embarrassed in my life. I had to pick Madalyn back up and carry her out of the store kicking and screaming. And everyone in my path is a changed person because of it, I assure you. I am the mom that those people are talking to their friends about today: "Last night there was this woman in Belk and her kid. Oh my Gosh! She was screaming and kicking and I just felt so sorry for her." That's me.
So, two lessons learned yesterday:
1. Madalyn is not ready to not ride in her stroller.
2. The sleeveless top is definitely "more dressier" than the one with sleeves.