I am one hour and twenty minutes past turning her light out. It was supposed to be one of those awesome nights that you plan for your family. I know all my parent friends are already shouting the Amen because you know what I am about to talk about. It was supposed to be a night out with friends to celebrate my main squeeze's birthday. He works hard that big man, and he is such a good daddy to our little Taz (aka the Tasmanian devil). I had made dinner plans at his favorite burger joint and discussed an after dinner night of bowling. A few frat bro's, some beer for the dudes, and a night out for this couple. By yesterday night, I realized that all my usual suspects for babysitters were not available, and I probably should have known and prepared for rain as my little sprinkle averages a 60/40 success rate for dinners longer than drive through...
So after compromising on an outfit and bribing her with ice cream, I thought I had a plan. She knew where she was going, she knew the prize, she knew the expectations. We talked about sitting in our seat. The I phone was charged, the diaper bag had treats and toys to the brim. We used our EXCITED voice to talk about Daddy's birthday party, and I should have know by her response that this would not go as my pretty picture in my mind was playing.
"Say, "Happy Birthday, DADDY!!", I said to K from the front seat.... "NOOO, it's MY BIRTHDAY" she screamed from her car seat. Why I even thought I could argue that point makes me look stupid in hind sight. I tried to explain that today was Daddy's day and he wanted a Bub's Burger. And there would be cake, and bowling and ice cream and fun. In my mind, we would hold hands (I know stupid, right?) down the main street and get in quickly and have a great dinner together and then get an ice cream. We would go to the bowling ally and get a table and let her try a few throws to see the pins fall. It was so beautiful in my mind....
But here is what my little nugget taught me about beautiful pictures in my head:
1. You are the mother of a two year old, not a 12 year old or a 22 year old for that matter. There is no way we are going to make it through 3 hours of family activities around strangers without a fight.
2. We don't hold hands anymore because we are BIG GIRLS and clearly are aware of all safety risks on the main road of a major suburb street.
3. I don't need to stand with the family while they wait for 30 minutes for a table. I will poop on a random set of stairs close to a road and yell at anyone who comes near me.
4. I DO NOT sit in high chairs anymore, (this will immediately offend the toddler and send her into hysterics)
5. When you say ice cream, it should be awaiting for us at the table, we shouldn't have to wait for it.
6. Ice cream should always come in a cone or dish with a spoon, no whip cream or cherry and definitely not in the form of a milk shake... that's not ice cream.
7. I don't like anything on the kids menu, so stop asking if I want chicken because I want NOTHING and everything all at the same time.
8. FOCUS... on me, the toddler, I am all that matters. Those baffoons you brought with you (I think you called them friends) are not important. Dad's birthday is all about me.
9. I prefer to hang out with the dog and the lady playing the guitar in the street... sitting by you fools is not of interest.
10. Taking me out "for a break" messages to me that this dinner is over, so if you try to take me back I will throw a fit.
11. If there are no places to pout or throw a tantrum, I will improvise. Those disgusting rugs in the restaurant that haven't been washed since a week before last years health department visit will make a nice cozy place to lay my head... I mean entire body. Everyone can walk around me and acknowledge that my parents have zero control over me.
12. That dinner your ordered me is awful. Why is the food hot? You know I prefer my food room temperature. Until it's the appropriate temperature, I will hide under the table.
13. That I-Phone you brought me is not going to work this time. I have seen every Netflix show on the entire kid's section and it's not worth watching now that we are out in public. I will, however, want to watch the shows when I get home and we have a bigger screen.
14. I spilled chocolate milk all over the table, and I decided to wipe it up with my shirt in the 30 seconds you pretended to listen to your friends. Oh, sorry, I know it's hard to get out of white, but mom insisted on this stupid shirt.
15. I ate three fries, I am ready to go... NOW...
16. Nothing in that stupid bag will eleviate the utter sadness I have about this experience. I must go... see that horse painted on the wall three rooms away.
17. I pooped... AGAIN :)
18. The first two times you brought me to the table weren't a success, why don't you people get it? I am not sitting here.
19. Wait, what, you're taking me home? That was rude, I didn't even get to say goodbye, throw all my stuff on the floor, or get the attention of the WHOLE street as I screamed the entire way out to the car...
20. Gosh, car seats are amazing. They completely make me happy and quiet... and tired... Let's go home and watch a show... No TV? Bedtime? Oh, you have not even seen me at my worst...
2 hours into our night, we made it home. I was probably blowing smoke from my ears and was sad that once again my dreams of being the perfect mom and wife were derailed. It's hard being a mom. It's hard being the center of attention in a crowd of a hundred people who are staring at your little asshole, I mean child. As I laid her in bed and reviewed my disappointment, she rolled over and said, "go away". Ok I said, "I love you, we will try again tomorrow".
I have just been schooled by a tiny human with little life experience. And more than any semester long class in my masters program, I am humbled that everything I thought I knew about parenting and behavior modification isn't realistic sometimes. Parenting is a constant school of hard knocks even with the best of resources, it can be so hard. You learn you have no control except the option to leave sometimes. To surrender. And that's hard for me but I am learning to accept defeat with grace and calm down in my own time out of the driver seat before we get home. I hope by the time she is my age she forgets all of our moments of awfulness and likewise we forget hers.
Happy Birthday, Chris. I think for the next few years, our "day" is really still hers. I vote for carry out and Netflix next year... or I will make sure to find a baby sitter ;)
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