It's been one of those mornings...
Let me start by saying I love Kyle to pieces. But... He is an extreme child. I can't entirely blame this on being 2 years old either. Since his birth, he's been like that "girl with a curl in the middle of her forehead." In other words, he can be the sweetest funniest little boy imaginable but when he's upset, he can (and will) throw a temper tantrum to rival Genghis Khan. There's no middle ground with this child, it's all or none.
To set up this morning, I have a gazillion little things I need to do before our flight to NYC on Friday morning. I woke up with itchy allergy eyes, a runny nose, and menstrual cramps the strength of labor contractions. How I have pollen allergies with everything buried under 3 inches of snow is beyond me. And I'm out of Midol so I gave Tylenol a try but that's like chaining a pitbull with a piece of thread. Oh I should mention my sore back and arms from shoveling 3 inches of wet snow (which is much heavier than dry powder snow) from the driveway and walk yesterday. But things need to be done and *looks around and sees no one else* (Greg's in Pittsburgh), I'm the one to do them.
Fine, I dropped the Big 3 off at school without incident. Kyle seemed cheerful enough when I told him we're running errands and we spent most of the drive discussing favorite colors. It went something like this:
"What's your favorite color, Mommy?"
-Blue
"What's your favorite color me Mommy."
-Kyle, what's your favorite color?
"Um, black. What's your favorite color, Kelly?" Kelly doesn't answer so he continues, "Kelly's favorite color is purple. What's your favorite color, Mommy?"
-Blue
"What's your favorite color me Mommy."
Repeat, repeat, repeat. First stop, JoAnn's fabric store. I know this place like the back of my hand so it was a quickly completed errand. Buttons, white cardstock, album page protector refills, $6.64, done. My first clue that maybe I was going to have trouble with Kyle was when I had to pick him up off the floor and half drag him out of the store when I wouldn't buy him a lollipop. But things need to be done so off we went to Target.
This is when things started to fall apart. Kyle didn't want out of his carseat and tried to buckle himself back in. No can do, kiddo, I have money to spend. He ran around the parking lot a bit and kept saying "Don't walk me, Mommy!" Um, okay. We made it into the store and I plopped Kelly into a cart. I turned around to grab Kyle and he was still in the entrance looking at the automatic doors. Obviously I was on the wrong side to open them and Kyle wasn't getting near the sensors to do it on his own. A helpful worker noticed us and went outside and then back in so the doors would open and I grabbed Kyle. Of course I picked the only cart with the straps all tangled up so I struggled to hold Kyle down while I adjusted the straps to buckle him in. And we're blocking the door and he's screaming at the top of his lungs. Did I mention my runny nose, itchy eyes, cramps, and sore back? Add a headache.
Finally he's trapped and we're shopping. At this point, I've given up on a stop at Old Navy for a white shirt for me. Something at Target will do. Found three shirts, guessed my size and went to the dressing rooms. Which are the size of shoeboxes. Now Kyle was screaming he has to go potty. ("You just went at home!") I couldn't maneuver the shopping cart into the dressing room so I just left the door open. Once you're a mom, you've already lost all modesty anyways. One shirt was the wrong size, one shirt was totally the wrong style, the last one would do. And if it won't, I don't give a shit at this point.
Unfortunately I wasn't finished. I still needed a mop sponge refill, gifts for the birthday party the twins are attending tomorrow night, and diapers. Of course I own the only mop in the world that is impossible to find replacement sponges for. I should probably just buy a new mop but I already have $10 invested in the handle of this one and I do rather like the design. So cheap me, no new mop or mop sponge today.
The toy aisle went better than I expected. Kyle was winding down from his fit so he sat relatively quietly while I figured out what the heck to buy. The twins wanted to give the birthday girl Care Bears. My dilemma: one big gift from both of them or two little gifts from them individually? The most expensive Care Bear item was $15, not quite a big gift. So I went with two smaller "beanie" Care Bears for at total of $12. I grabbed the diapers and gift bags and we were almost home free.
And then we got to the check out. Whoever decided that's where to put the candy deserves to be seriously beaten and shot and then revived and beaten and shot again. Yeah I know it's good marketing but they are cruel evil people. So of course, Kyle wanted a lollipop. He has not been good enough for a lollipop. Both children have now worked their way out of the straps and Kyle's laying on the ground by the candy and Kelly's standing in her seat. "No, I don't want a Target card. (Kelly, sit down.) No, he's not picking out candy." Just shut up, ring up my order, and let me out of here!
$40 later (eek!) I grabbed my bags, pulled Kelly out of the cart since she was not going to sit, picked up her coat that she's also wiggled out of and cheerfully (through gritted teeth) told Kyle, "Let's go potty!" He ran to the bathroom and I juggled Kelly, her coat, two bags, and my purse. Did I mention the sore arms and back and cramps? Kyle went potty, Kelly's back in her coat, and we were almost done. I started to feel relieved that this fun was almost over. And then...
Kyle realized he didn't have a lollipop. He ran screaming like a mad man back to the check out lanes. Kelly pulled off her coat and threw it on the floor again. At this point, I didn't know whether to hysterically laugh or cry. Taking a deep breath, I stuffed Kelly back in her coat, readjusted the bags I was carrying, wrestled the candy out of his hands, and picked Kyle up. Ow, the pain... Kyle is not a small child, he's 3'6" and easily 40lbs. He's bigger than some of the kids in Zach's kindergarten class. I can only imagine what the other people in Target thought as I carried Kyle out kicking and screaming while Kelly pulled off her coat again.
I don't think 4 days is going to be enough. Maybe 4 years? *sigh*
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