Oh yeah, it's a good feeling my friends to know that you are, at any given moment as bad, or worse, of a mother than say, Britney Spears or Joan Crawford.
Earlier this week I took the newly-walking ball of energy otherwise known as Ethan to Barnes & Noble's children's section. Usually I plop him down by the board books, he pulls every book off the shelf, points to a couple pictures of dogs or trucks and then proceeds to crawl a few feet before feasting his eyes and hands on another shelf of neatly organized books to decimate.
It's a very different scene when the little one has full ambulatory use of his legs. The second mommy unlatches the stroller straps, the Great Walking One springs into action with the leaping stroller dismount, characterized by a full-body stiffening and sliding out of the arm straps onto the floor. He follows this graceful stroller exit with a bound to his feet, takes a deep breath and then does his best Frankenstein imitation over to the musical books or the ones shaped like trucks, complete with moving wheels.
But this does not last. No, because now that his legs take him where he wants to go, and his hands are free AT THE SAME TIME, he has new ground to cover, new messes to make, and as of yet unexplored layers of his personality to reveal. Why did no one warn me? Oh wait. Was that what all the, "Wait till he starts walking!!" jibber-jabber has been about. Ah, I see.
So, exhibit A for the "bad mommy jury" (that would be you, internet), I lost him. I turned my head for a minute to help a little girl who wanted a Thomas the Train book that was on a shelf she couldn't reach. When I turned around, the stinker was nowhere to be seen.
At first, I assumed, please, he's right around the corner. No need to fret. I'm not "that" mom; "that" being a choice between the neglectful horrible mother who lets her child be abducted in the children's section of Barnes and Noble OR the mother who freaks out at every tiny blip of risk-taking and is hyper-cautious to the point of sheltering her child into being a fearful, clingy thing at her side forever. Take your pick, neither of them are the type of mom I want to be.
But he's not right around the corner. The only thing that is right around the corner is more books, an empty bench and a 4 year old, picking his nose. Um. Okay. Maybe around the next corner?
And so, I had my first brush with Britney-hood as I scampered with increasing intensity through the children's section, looking for the little man. All bookshelves in that part of the store should be a maximum of 2 feet high and the ceiling should be made of MIRRORS, people!!!
About five seconds before I needed a brown paper bag to breathe into, I heard his "zeeee!?" noise, which I know is an indication that he has spied something fascinating and is pointing to it and making his way towards it. The fear that was throbbing down to my toes started to abate and as I followed his repeating "zeeeee!?"'s and finally turned the right corner, I got there just in time to witness him ripping a shiny blue fabric car out of the hands of a sweet little girl. And of course there was the subsequent tears from said sweet little girl. And me, trying to pry the car out of Ethan's strong grasp so I could return it to the wronged party. And then she was happy and Ethan....well, you know. You've seen the pouty-pants pictures.
Ah. Fabulous. Not only do I let my child run about in public places unattended, I am also raising a thieving bully. Brilliant. Think Britney has room in her busy schedule for a new BFF because I am so there.
4 comments:
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No judgment, just sympathy! I went to the mall this weekend w/ my son and twin nieces, and I had the same panic-inducing moment of losing one of them in the clothes racks while pushing my son in the stroller. (There was also a one adsukt to child ratio too, don't know how I ended up w/ two!) It is much easier when you can yell their name and they answer you though. Let's just say I'm not pushing the walking so much, if it takes a few months longer, that's fine by me.
hee! that first line was the code it told me to type, it showed up in the text! It wasn't some kind of weird internet swear. I promise!
I once lost Jack in a playarea after he was first walking. I literally was talking to another mom for 10 seconds and he was off to the races. Aren't those leashes starting to look appealing?
We once lost my daughter within 5 seconds as she was supposedly walking between me and her father at Sea World, and my son when he jumped on an elevator which closed before I could yank him back so I can empathize fully with you. Leashes definitely look good.
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