So. Dylan is a pretty polite kid. No, he’s an extremely polite kid. He will say excuse me, please, thank you, and generally has a sunny disposition toward everyone he meets.
He was born with a curl of hair in the middle of his forehead though, and that whole little “when he is good he is very good, and when he is bad he is horrid” thing totally applies.
I took him with me shopping today, and we had a great time. Not on any sort of schedule for once, we just meandered through the store, talking and having a great time, him saying cute three year old things and me laughing so much and thinking omg my child is brilliant.
He also told me that I was so beautiful and that I was the best mommy in the whole wide world. Kid knows whose side his bread is buttered on, that ‘s for sure….or Nick Jr is doing a good job teaching kids what to say to their parents so they stay alive.
I was deep in mommy land today, and let me tell you, it caused some thoughts. One hour in mommy zone gave me enough blog fodder for the next month, if I wanted to be that kind of person. Generally I have other things to talk about (blog A.D.D.?) so you’ll just get it for today.
We went to Chik-fil-A (it was close to Super Target and the one here has a nice play area) and I let Dylan play (he was not interested in eating AT ALL with a play area so close, and YUK! is his new favorite word) while I ate a chicken sandwich that I did not feel guilty about (which was very nice!).
I walked in and stiffened almost immediately. The place was crawling with mommies and kids. I should have realized it would be this way, though, as 1. chick-fil-a actually has meals you don’t hate yourself after eating, 2. they have a play area, and 3. this one is right next to Super Target. The nice one. I have serious mommy group phobia, after my experiences with one group that will remain unnamed, and avoid them like the plague. There is way too much judgment and way not enough support. I don’t need to know the ways in which I suck as a mother- I’m quite aware of them all, thankyouverymuch. Plus, internets, it might surprise you to hear this but I am not good around people. I am much better online. IRL I’m kind of…shy. I know. You don’t believe me. But it’s really true. I know some of you have imagined me as attending “I hate Sarah Palin” rallies and things like that, but I don’t really do rallies (unless I’m a photographer at them) and that would be giving Sarah Palin way too much of my time and attention. I’d rather stay inside and play computer games or design websites. But I digress.
He played for a good hour before “the meltdown” happened, and I have to say that within the schemes of possible meltdown scenarios, this one was rather tame. He pushed a little girl who was trying to play with the same thing he was, and then wouldn’t apologize. I apologized to her father, and then told him in no uncertain terms that we were leaving due to his attitude and unwillingness to apologize to the girl he had purposely pushed. He was not happy about this, and let me know in a very loud voice. I started to get embarrassed but then realized that I was around a bunch of women who all went through the same thing every single day, so I got over it pretty quickly. I decided I could either care about what people thought of me or I could be a good parent. I chose the latter.He yelled but he didn’t scream or cry, or toss himself on the floor kicking or screaming. He got out his milk and drank the whole thing down in a couple of minutes, so I am guessing that his meltdown was partially attributed to the fact that he was thirsty/tired/hungry, not that it excuses it.
We got to the car and talked about it for a few minutes- I didn’t want to lecture him for a long time but I wanted to make damn sure that he got the point, that pushing was wrong and that I was very upset with him for his behavior. We drove for a minute in silence, but then he actually apologized (I’m sorry for pushing the little girl, mommy) and I felt like I was flying.
So, anyway, it ended on a good note, which I suppose is the whole point of it.
