Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Fun.

So there are days when things are great, awesome even, and life is moving along swimmingly.  Mornings at the beach filled with sun breaks and laughter.  But then,  it's time to leave the beach.  And your 3 year old won't get in the car.  And you have to manhandle him because he tries to run away from you in the middle of a parking lot and then he starts screaming.  And then all of the other parents and children look at you.  And then you have to smile like this: "HI!!!  I'm torturing my child for sport!  It's super awesome fun!  Wanna join me?  I have hot pokers in the trunk!!"

Can you picture my maniacal waving and open-mouthed smile?

Why?  Why must the fit follow the awesome?  Why must the perfect morning of fun be ruined by the perfect storm of evil whilst trying to move on to lunch and nap?  Why?

Today, we had our final day of pre-3s preschool.  We met at a beach on the sound and played in the sand and enjoyed some final time together.  The kids played together, ran together, snacked together, sang their final songs of the year, and received handmade "yearbooks" from their teacher.  It was dream day for a 3 year old.  And yet.

As we went to leave, all was well.  He said he did not want to go.  I said that it was time to go because he was shivering ("I'm not cold!!") and the Little One needed a nap.  He sulked briefly, tried again ("Can we go over to the swings?  The other kids got to go!!"), but finally gave in somewhat gracefully.  We gathered our things and walked to the car.  Where he refused to get inside.  And then ran around the car away from me every time I got near.  And then I had to grab him and stuff him inside the car while he hollered.

Me smiling at the staring people: "Hi!!!  Everything's fine here!  Just a happy family preparing to leave!!  No torture taking place whatsoever!  PLEASE IGNORE THE SCREAMING."

And then he continued to cry and scream (and empty his shoes full of sand into his carseat) for the next hour.  Through the garage.  In the elevator.  Through the halls of our building ("Hi Neighbors Who Already Hate Us For Having Children!!!  Does this help?  LIKE US NOW?!?!").  Into the house.  Throughout being stripped of sandy clothes ("AAAHHHH!!!!  TORTURE!!!!  DON'T TAKE MY CLOTHES OFF!!!!  OOOOWWWW!!!!").  Throughout attempts at nose-blowing ("I HAVE BOOOOOGGERSSS!!!").  Throughout attempts at going potty ("I CAN'T PEEEE!!!!  I HAVE BOOOOOGGERSSSS!!!").  And into the beginning of lunch ("BUT I DON'T WANT THAT!!!"  "That's what we're having."  "BUT I DON'T WANT THAT!!!"  "Then I'll give it to your brother."  I WAAANT THAAAAAAT!!!!!").

And then I forgot all about the nice time we had this morning and wished I could get on an airplane and fly to Japan to see cherry blossoms.  That seems quiet.

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