One-Yard Wonders projects

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Meltdown in Non-Fiction

Mazy and Bo, Christmas morning 2010

Why do I ignore the warning signs?

Time and time again, I see visible signs that alert me that my 2-year-old is probably not in the appropriate frame of mind to be in public. Yesterday was one of those days.

I put him down for a nap early, at 12 noon, so he'd be refreshed and happy when we picked Mazy up from school at 3:20. Well, at 2:15, I finally gave up and let him come back downstairs. Bo was in a good mood then, just not willing to nap.

Driving to Mazy's school, I knew I was tempting fate with Bo's temperament. He'd thrown a fit when I put his coat on, he kicked his shoes off and ran around in a crazy, wild way -- not unhappy yet, but clear signs that he was getting tired and grumpy.

But I still forged on. I had promised Mazy a trip to the library if he had a good day at school. Just my luck, he did. Bo and I met his teacher on the sidewalk outside the school, he gave me a thumb's up and said Mazy's first two days back after holiday break had been great! Hooray! But, oh crap... I was holding Bo, who was glaring at a pack of 5th graders and knew I should just disappoint Mazy and say no to the library visit.

But I didn't.

I never do. I told him we'd make it a fast trip. I showed Bo the cherry-flavored sucker in my jeans pocket so he knew a reward was waiting for him if he was good at the library. I sat them both down in the elevator and went over proper library etiquette. I reminded Bo again that a sucker was waiting for him if only he'd be good!

Twenty-five minutes later, I waved that same sucker in his face (after shamefully fleeing with him and Mazy to a bathroom stall in an attempt to stop or at least quiet his ear-splitting meltdown) and hissed at him, "NO sucker for naughty-acting boys!"

My only complaint with the Central Library is the fact that the childrens section is the furthest area from the entrance. Seriously, who thought this was a bright idea? Do you know how many times I've had to carry a screaming, kicking, maniacal child down that long, long, long walk of shame? Do you know how many glares I have received? How many raised eyebrows have been pointed at me? How many of my teeth I have ground down as I clenched my jaws, stared straight ahead and hauled my offspring off the premises?

A lot. Too many to count.

No more library for Bo. But Mazy and I did manage to check out five books for him -- megalodon sharks, velociraptors, wholly mammoths, mastodons and allosaurus. In the past six months, I think I may have unintentionally earned a minor in archaeology.

In better news, when Bo got home he asked to be put to bed. Which, as any of you parents know, is an extremely rare event. So he went to bed at 5:10 p.m. and slept until 7:20 a.m. And tonight -- he was just a little angel after daycare. All smiles and jokes and as cute as can be.

I've got to start following the signs.

Bo eating Christmas cookies, Dec. 2010

This boy of mine reminds me of a favorite Henry Wadsworth Longfellow poem:

There Was a Little Girl

There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.


  1. Which is of course what I always said about you.

  2. I was hoping you wouldn't remember that... :)

    Yes, for the record, Bo seems to exhibit a FEW of my personality traits, such as a hair-trigger temper, a lack of respect for anyone who wants to do something that is not what I wanted to do, and something of an aggressive nature. But there is hope. Look how good I turned out!