So I haven’t had time lately to write much.
Not just because of “everything” going on, but because I haven’t felt creative at all.
I’ve felt anxious.
There are many reasons for the anxiety and I’m sure many of you feel the same, and for many of the same reasons.
But I came across a half finished blog I wrote a year ago almost to the day about a day in our life and I decided to finish it.
And in doing so, I remembered all the anxiety from that day last year.
It’s so weird looking back.
Same anxiety. Different reasons.
I tend to ramble on, so thank you for those of you who actually get through it.
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GAME OVER, PARENT. YOU LOSE.
8/14/2019
Life got “real,” today.
It started off like every other day. Jonah woke up at some ungodly hour.. crawled into bed with us… rolled around until I got kicked in the face and I decided to go sleep in HIS bed…
Then the little turd decided he wanted to come crawl back into his bed to roll around, climb on me and kick me in the junk until I finally just got up and made coffee at some time way too early in the morning. I got a tight 4 hours of sleep I think. About the norm. At least I got to watch the sun rise.
I generally just stared off into nothing all morning sipping coffee until about 10 minutes before we had to leave.
Then I rushed around yelling at the kids, wondering how I could be so rushed when I had the last 4 hours to get ready.
Commence the crazy…
I ran Jonah up to his therapy which started at 9am. Just made it…errr 15 minutes late (I was gonna say ‘on time’ but 15 min late is pretty much on time for us now).
Then, I doubled back and ran Jonny down to the last day of VBS. That started at 9:30.
Apparently he was supposed to dress up as a prince. He told me about 5 minutes before we left. I cut out some “spikes” from construction paper (most likely from one of his old art projects), taped it to a sand pail and told him to wear it on his head.
“Here’s your ‘crown.’ Now you are a prince. Be gone.”
(Dropped off kid 2. Check that off the list.)
Then I ran to the store to get a cat carrier.
My cat has fleas, you see… Actually, both cats have fleas.
No. ACTUALLY, my ENTIRE HOUSE has fleas. All the inhabitants of my house and apparently everything with soft fiber in my house also has fleas. But before I could flea bomb everything else, I had to kill the fleas on the cats to keep them from reproducing.
So the cats had to go to the vet that day. But I needed a cat carrier. Aaaand the local store didn’t have one. I would have to make a trip to the pet store.
I had about an hour and a half to myself before I had to pick up my kids.
I thought about going to the pet store by myself to get a kitty carrier. But I also wanted to go for a jog. I don’t get much “me time” so I try to maximize it.
Jogging first. Chores after. I’d still have plenty of time.
So I went for a nice long jog… it had been a while. It was just gonna be around the neighborhood…and then…
“Wait. Do I turn here? Lemme turn here… Crap. Where am I? Forget it, I’ll just double back.”
Eight. Miles. Later…
I finally found my way back home 15 minutes before I had to pick up Jonah from camp.
I high-tailed it to keep the massive meltdown about having to wait for me at bay. His therapist must love me.
“I’m coming. I’m coming!!” I yelled running up to the class. Jonah was the last kid to be picked up. Way to go, Dad.
I trust that Jonah’s doing well in therapy. They say that he is. I don’t get to see him while he’s there and he seems happy enough to go. (That’s pretty much all I have to go off of).
Eh. He was fine. He wasn’t crying. “Not crying” is practically ecstatic right?
“Get in the car, bud. Let’s go.”
Kid one picked up. Check that off the list.
Off to pick up “tweedle-doo” from VBS.
Today being the last day, they went “extra long,” and of course, Jonah’s fuse for “waiting patiently” was EXTRA SMALL.
So by the time they let the kids out, Jojo was barely holding it together.
“Let’s go Jonny.”
“Daddy, I want to say goodbye to my friend.”
“No, your brother is about to have a meltdown. We need to go.”
“But Daddy, I just need to say goodbye. I don’t know when I’ll see her again.”
(I’m also friends with her dad. He’s a rad dad of twin toddlers and a 7yo and he was flying solo today with the kids as well).
Jonny gave me a “broken hearted” look that he was on the verge of tears. After all, It was not an unreasonable request.
But little brother was needing to leave NOW. And I wasn’t sure when Rad-dad would have his kids all corralled so my kid could say “goodbye.”
I recognized that one meltdown was already inevitable. Jonny has a tender heart and would cry if he could not say farewell to his friend. Jonah was about to elope and he started screaming when I picked him up.
Crap.
Jonny was digging his heels in about saying goodbye…
(“WHY IS IT ALWAYS ABOUT JONAH!!?”)
He’s not wrong. Twist the knife. Jonny constantly draws the short straw in the “fairness” department between he and his brother. So, whenever I am able, I try to make things equitable for Jonny as well.
“Fine. We’ll wait. Go say ‘goodbye’ to your friend. We will have to wait for them to come out and then we’ll just have to deal with the Jonah meltdown while waiting.”
Honestly, as a parent, I’d rather deal with one meltdown than two. And if I forced the issue, they would both be screaming.
Double-crap.
Because the screaming happened anyway. I should have known. I REALLY should know by now.
It started with Jonah.
If there is one thing that causes Jonny to cry, it is listening to his brother cry.
And so they both started crying right there in the middle of the VBS foyer.
I blinked a couple of times, not really feeling anything as both kids screamed around me. Just sort of felt numb. It’s kind-of the feeling you get when the ‘game over’ screen blinks at you while playing an old video game.
“GAME OVER, PARENT. YOU LOSE.”
I sort of have an out-of-body parenting experience when this happens. My brain tries to process how we got to this point… Like… “How is this even life right now?”
Honestly, I just put both the kids down and walked away.
Could. Not. Handle.
Some far-off voice drifted my way from somewhere… “Does he want a prince crown too?”
One of the volunteers had noticed our predicament.
I quickly recovered. “Oh thank you, but no.”
Lord. No. The kid just wanted to leave. Anything you gave him at this point would immediately become a projectile.
Yep. Time to go.
I just started walking toward the door. “Okay. We’re done. Let’s get going. Jonny. Come on.”
Jonah was unsure of what to do. He started following me but screaming “Bubba! Bubba! (Brother).”
Jonny was unmoving and crying about seeing his friend. Rad-dad was still gathering his posse.
I was just at the door to walk outside. I honestly wasn’t sure if my next plan of action other than to bluff about leaving him there. Or… maybe I WOULD just leave him there. Good Lord. Maybe Rad Dad could take him home.
But fortunately Rad-dad made it out about that time, his brew in tow. We all walked out together. Jonah crying into my shoulder.
Jonny was crying in the back seat of the car, the anxiety of ‘everything’ still wracking him. Jonah sat in my lap for a while in the parking lot trying to calm down. We had less than an hour to be at the vet. We still had to get a cat carrier from the pet store, AND get back home to pick up the cats, before driving BACK to the vet’s office.
We did not have time for this.
“Hey, do you want to go to the pet store with me?”
Jonah’s immediate response: “I SAY NO THANK YOU!”
“Thank you for using your words, buddy.” This did not bode well. Crap.
Time to pull out the big guns.
“Do you want to go to McDonald’s?”
“MCDONALDS!?” (Both kids immediately stop crying. Become angels).
Bribes=wins.
Gahd. I’m a horrible parent.
Bribing my kids. Like I didn’t have enough places to stop already.
“Okay… Cat carrier first. McDonald’s drive thru next…. then home to get the cats, then vet’s office. One hour. Let’s do this.”
So we pulled up to the pet store. I thought for sure that Jonah would find this an acceptable detour once we got there with there being animals and stuff. Heck. The pet store is like a mini-trip to the zoo to a kid, right?
RIGHT?
“‘Donald’s?”
I unbuckled Jonah and walked him into the pet store.
“‘Donald’s.”
“Yes, Jojo, first we need to stop here and get something. Then we can go to McDonalds.”
“Donald’s!”
“Ooh! Look Jojo! There are some fishies! Let me get a cat carrier (which… CONFOUND IT!!… is clear at the back of the store) and we can look at the fishies! Won’t that be fun?”
“DONALDS!”
Crap. Let’s just get this over with.
So I led Jonah by the hand to the back of the store, grabbed the first cat carrier I could find, and walked back with him to the front of the store, Jonny in tow.
“DONNNALLLDS!”
“Dad, he wants to go to McDonalds.”
“I know he does, Jonny. But I need to pay for this first.”
(Lord, please let there be nobody in line.)
God heard my prayer. We were first. Muttering a silent thanks under my breath, I started to ring up the cat carrier.
“That’ll be $62.58.”
What? For a cat carrier? I didn’t actually look at the price. There were probably more inexpensive choices available, but I didn’t have time to check.
I didn’t even have time to consider it.
But I thought, “heck with it,” and put my card into the reader.
“Do not remove card.”
The machine took its sweet time… must be a “slow connection.”
“Do not remove card.”
“Too slow. Come on….” I started tapping my foot impatiently.
“Do not remove card.”
Time was up. Jonah bolted.
Straight toward the parking lot. Double-doors conveniently opening wide for him.
Jonah. Five years old. Almost completely non-verbal. And a minimal concept of danger.
“JONAH! COME HERE BUDDY!”
He may as well have not even heard me.
Time froze for a proverbial year as I weighed my options for the next second.
Option 1. If I removed my card from the card reader before it was done reading it, and sprinted after Jonah, I would be able to pick him up, but at a terrible cost, and nothing to do with money.
He would throw a meltdown so huge, I would not be able to go back to pay for the kitty-carrier. He is too big for me to carry when he is like this. I have to sit with him and hold him until he calms down.
I would not be able to get him in the car. I would not be able to explain things to him rationally. I would not be able to complete my purchase. We would miss our vet appointment.
He would scream. He would flail. He would hit.
I would take it.
I have gotten Jonah to stop lashing out at me in the past, only to have him start hitting himself instead.
It’s incredibly heartbreaking to go through.
We have practiced trips to the store. We’ve even brought multiple therapists with us for this very reason.
“JONAH! STOP RIGHT THERE! WAIT FOR DADDY!”
“…Donalds!!!!”
Option 2. I leave the payment card in the card reader completely unwatched and let it do it’s thing. I would hope nobody stole my card while I corralled the child. The transaction would complete and I could pick up a screaming child, run back for the card and at least walk out of the store with the cat carrier paid for.
(You know, once the meltdown subsided)
Maybe we’d make it to the vet appointment, but probably not with a trip to McDonalds.
“JONAH! STAY RIGHT THERE!!!”
Option 3. I let him run. I continue to yell at him while I finish my purchase with the card-reader-of-molasses hoping he doesn’t get to the parking lot or get hit by a car.
I made my choice.
I went with a cross between option 3 and option 1.
Call it “option 4.”
I waited for as long as possible keeping him in my peripheral as I cursed at the machine to ‘hurry it up.’
I simultaneously judged the distance Jonah was from the parking lot and the time it would take me to sprint over and tackle Jonah if necessary before he made it there. He wasn’t too far away. Yet.
I could still get to him. I hoped.
He was now on the sidewalk. OUTSIDE THE STORE. That was it.
“Please Remove Card.”
Thank God.
I didn’t even wait for a receipt. I grabbed the cat carrier and went at a full-on SPRINT toward the busy parking lot.
“JOOOOONNNAH!!”
I wasn’t gonna make it. I had waited too long. Jonah was speed walking at a pretty brisk pace, almost to the parking lot, steps away from the edge of the curb, oblivious to the oncoming traffic, who probably couldn’t see him.
This WOULD. NOT. HAPPEN. Not to us.
I was preparing to tackle/push Jonah out of the way of oncoming traffic when Jonny came out of nowhere, hands upraised like he was a basketball defender to block Jonah’s direct path to the road way.
And while Jonny could not fully stop his brother, he delayed him long enough for me to be able to catch up to him and pick him up.
I snatched him up just in the nick of time, my hands shaking and my nerves wrecked.
And there wasn’t any melt down. No crying or screaming. Jonah didn’t so much as protest once.
The little jerk was laughing.
LAUGHING!
😒😒😒
I schooled my face to a mask of calm.
I was a hot mess of emotion, but Any reaction, positive or negative, would reinforce the eloping behavior to a boundary-pusher like Jonah.
He loves getting “reactions” out of people.
After I got both boys in the car I just sat there in the drivers seat taking deep breaths.
In and out. In and out.
“So, we’re cheating death now, that’s what we’re doing, and we’re having fun at the same time, I can do this, just be careful…”
The quote by Marlon (Nemo’s father in the movie “Finding Nemo”) came to mind. He and Dory were “taking on the jellies” at the time.
It would be nice to have a giant turtle come take care of me about now….
But, on the plus side, hey… we were actually AHEAD of schedule.
“Donald’s?”
“Yes. We’re going to McDonald’s now buddy.”
Good Lord. Someone needed to get ME a “happy meal.”
The rest of the day was less eventful.
The McDonalds drive-thru was glacially slow of course.
I assume the boys ate their food in peace in the back seat…although most of it probably ended up in between the seat cushions or on the floor.
There was a rather tense, interesting moment when we finally made it to the vets office… ON TIME, with both cats and both kids in tow.
Jonny is not strong enough to carry a cat carrier so I had to carry both our cats, one carrier in each hand…
…Leaving me NO hands to hold on to Jonah in the parking lot at the vets office.
I was acutely aware that I was, at that moment, transporting EVERY dependent being in my household at the same time. I felt like a character in a Dr. Seuss book trying to manage all my possessions at once.
Jonah glanced at the parking lot and road for an instant, a little mischievous gleam in his eye, but he came along with us.
Having Jonah in the vets office seemed like an awful idea. He’s not much for waiting and it seems every doctor makes you wait in multiple places for an extended period of time.
A meltdown here would not be … ideal. But it WOULD be par for the day.
But most times when you are out and about, you don’t have both your cats with you.
So, fortunately we were able to keep Jonah sufficiently “entertained” for the duration of the visit.
We made it home without incident.
Which was good… because that afternoon, I had scheduled FREAKING SIMULTANEOUS dental appointments for both my kids, which I was also doing solo.
Aughhh!! Why do I hate myself!!
And to make a long story even LONGER, Jonah KILLED his visit. That is to say, he laid down on the chair and let the dentist look in his mouth. Win!
Did he let the dentist polish his teeth?Nope. Did he get x-rays done? Also nope. Does he have cavities? Who knows!? Don’t care! Because “Winning!”
**fun fact: Jonny ALSO would not let the dentist polish his teeth.
We made it home and I went strait to my couch and collapsed, weary from the day.
Some people would call that kind of day “hard.”
Me? I call it “Friday.”
Ahhh… time to unwind..
On my couch.
My…. couch…?
My… what the…??
oh yeah.
My… “FLEA INFESTED” COUCH.
😭😭😭😭
Whyyyyyyyyy????
“GAME OVER, PARENT. YOU LOSE.”