The Bryan Kids 2014

The Bryan Kids 2014

Monday, February 25, 2013

"You can judge, or you can help..."

   So this story actually happened a couple of years ago, but I recently had some requests for it to be told again at the nurse's station.  It was PB, you know (pre blog).  So I figured it deserved a post, even if it was a few years ago.  Colin was about 2.5 y/o and Molly was right at a year.  I was overly tired and exhausted (Big Surprise), and feeling like a caged animal at the house.  I needed to get out for a little while.  So, even though it was around 8 AM, I decided to hit the Chick-fil-a down the street.  I figured Colin could play in the indoor playground, and Molly and I could split some chicken minis.  While I never claimed to be Super Mom, or even claimed that I did it well with two little ones, I was never one to stay at home all of the time.  Even after Molly.  Despite feeling overwhelmed, and frequently wondering how I would make it out of the situations with both my pride and children intact, I still went out with both kids.  I made it happen.  Just sometimes...well let's just say, sometimes it went better than others.  This time was one of the latter...

   We all three entered the Chick-fil-a, and for some reason, I decided to head in without my lifesaving double stroller.  I figured it was small restaurant, who needs the double stroller to walk ten feet in the parking lot??  So I throw my sweet little chubby Molly on my hip, and grab my son's chubby little hand in mine, and we waltz into our local Chick-fil-a.  I order our food with very little trouble, and I am very happy to realize that they will bring the food to our table.  Because even the simple things like carrying a tray of food while hauling around two very small children can be incredibly difficult.  I scope out a table right next to the play area, grab a high chair, and strap Molly in.  I let Colin in to the play area and watch as he tries to heave himself up onto the next level of the play space with his stubby little legs.  He seems to be about 2 inches too short for this playground, but he still wants to play.  I am forced to stand at the door of the play area and spot my little dude as he enters the play space.  He is stubborn and determined, so I know there is no getting him out of there at this point no matter how difficult it is for both of us.  Poor Molly is left sitting at the table with a few hashbrowns to occupy her, and she is beginning to get distressed by my partial absence. I am within reaching distance the entire time, but my attention is definitely divided.

    Of course, I left out a very important detail in the beginning of this story.  Due to the early hour, the restaurant is filled with older people trying to enjoy some coffee, and they seemed annoyed by my very presence there at all.  I may have been overly sensitive, but it appeared I had an audience for my every move.  Colin eventually made it to the top of the playground.  Of course, I forgot to consider one very distinct possibility...He was too scared to come down the slide.  I have Molly, and I am not completely sure that I could fit up in the play ground even if I didn't have her with me.  I glance around for any other kids or maybe even a small teenager behind the counter.  Not a one in sight.  I am sure they are all in school.  Fabulous.  I wish I could say that all of the little old ladies were fawning over my kids, and offering to watch my sweet little girl while I attempt a rescue, but that was simply not the case.  I was stranded.  I decided to play it cool, and wait for Colin to decide he could make it down the slide.  The one thing I did have going for me was that he wasn't stressed about the situation.  Thank God.  So I sit, and wait...

    And then it hits me...That horrible feeling.  You know the one.  When the coffee and the greasy food come together in your gut and decide they want out.  Not in a few minutes...but NOW.  I hear my stomach start to grumble, and I shift uncomfortably.  Oh my God...I need to use the bathroom.  My 2 y/o is stuck at the top of the play ground, my baby can't even walk, let alone stand in the bathroom, and I am nearly incapacitated by the cramping.  I am in a cold, diaphoretic sweat.  I can just hold Molly on my lap in the bathroom, but I can't leave Colin unattended in the play area.  In fact, I have no idea how to even get him down, let alone into the bathroom.  I stand at the bottom of the slide, begging him to come down.  I offer ice cream, cookies, a new Thomas Train, all while I dance around with his sobbing sister on my hip.  By this time, the poor thing has figured out that Mommy is stressed, so now she is as well.  By the grace of God, Colin finally slides down the slide.  I grab the poor little guy under my arm.  He is kicking and screaming.  Now that he has figured out how fun the slide is, he wants to go again.  I make the mistake of setting him down for a minute, and he starts to climb back up the playground.  I grab him and exit the play area with a child flailing under each arm.  Both kids are crying...admittedly, I must have been a sight to see.  I heave both children up a little higher, grab my bag, and attempt an exit.  At this point, the entire restaurant has stopped to stare, coffee cups paused at their lips, some even shaking their heads.  I am standing at the door with at least 50+ lbs of baby flailing under my arms, praying someone will at least open the door.  I look around, and I finally just say out loud "You can judge, or you can help...(long pause while I pray someone gets up to help)Well, alrighty then."  I kick the door open, and somehow I get both children into the car.  Not a single soul moved to help me get out the door.

    I rush home, which was luckily right around the corner, and run inside, right to our bathroom.  I left both children buckled in their car seats.  By the time I reached our house, the emergency was at a code red level. There was no time to unhook the children.  I left them tear stained and confused and while mommy ran upstairs in an attempt to maintain what was left of my pride.  The good news, I doubt the children are scarred from that trip.  They don't have any strange aversions to Chick-fil-a.  I, on the other hand, seriously consider my diet, my beverages, and map out an escape plan every time I enter a situation with both children.  Even now...In fact, I can safely say it was quite the learning experience for me...

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