Okay, so sometimes we all wish that we would hear that when we've just had 'one of those days'. Well, my day was yesterday. It all started when I went to pick up my 3 1/2 year old daughter from preschool. It was her first day back from Christmas break and she was fairly excited to see her friends on our drive there that morning. Until we got there and then all of a sudden she was afraid of everyone. She was hiding behind my leg, she didn't want to play, talk, or look at anyone. After making her comfortable, she
allowed me to leave without her.
So, back to picking her up. I told her she could run around in the field next to the school after I picked her up - let a little energy get burned. It was cold and the wind made it, well, freezing, so I told her to put her coat on or else she couldn't play in the field. That turned into a 10 minute battle, in which I won, then we headed out the door with her friend, Sofia, and Sofia's mom (my good friend). We exit the building and the girls run off and I tried to round Bella up to walk over to the field - which again proved that she turned her ears off and couldn't hear a word I said. My frustration level is now rising. After getting her near me again, I was able to grab her coat to walk across the parking lot ( I was not permitted to hold her hand ).
Finally, we reach the field and the girls are off running. It's still freezing and I don't want to stay too long, because I still needed my limbs to work so I could drive home. After about 45 seconds, we notice the girls are WAY too far away from us, so me and my friend tried to call to the girls to tell them it's too far and they needed to come back. One kid did come back. That one who did, was not my kid. My friend was nice enough to go after her and get her for me - after all I'm 8 1/2 months pregnant and not much in the shape to run a marathon to catch my daughter, fighting the wind along the way.
So, 2 girls are back in the vicinity of the mom's and they play for a few more minutes and then it's just time to go. My nose and hands are freezing and I want to get in the warm car. Again, we yell to the girls to tell them it's time to go and they needed to come back. There was a little hesitation from both girls this time and as we walked over to get them, the one kid 'who did come back' the first time realized her mom was serious and decided she'd better go with her. My daughter, on the other hand thought it would be a perfect time to test me. So, as Sofia and her mom are walking away I go to get my daughter who is still on the bleachers. As I approach her, she begins chanting, 'No, No, No, No, No.... I want to stay, I want to stay, I want to stay...' In the midst of this chanting I'm telling her we are leaving and if she doesn't come herself I will carry her. Me saying that pushed some sort of button in her head and she got in her 'defense' mode. She laid down on the top bleacher, wrapped her legs and arms around the bleacher seat and began screaming, 'NO NO NO NO NO'.....
It was then that I was secretly hoping that my husband would come jumping out from behind the trees and yell 'Surprise, You're on candid camera!' and Bella would unlock her grip from the bleachers and laugh and walk merrily back to the car once we all chuckled over the funny moment. Or maybe by some small chance, Ashton Kutcher found out about me and decided I'd be the perfect candidate for Punk'd. But, nobody jumped out. Not my husband. Not Aston Kutcher. I'm feeling a bit betrayed now - this is real, this is not a joke. So as I approach my daughter, who has now molded and is one with the top bleacher, I summons my strength to pry her away from the cold piece of metal. I, naively tried lifting her from her belly and that didn't work, so I started with her feet. I got her feet released from the bench and picked her up so I could unpeel her fingers from under the seat. I began to walk away so removing her fingers would be easier while in motion. After the last 3 of the white knuckled fingers came off, she began screaming and kicking.
I had to adjust how I was holding her because my stomach was a big road block in holding a flailing child. I put one arm between her legs and held her waist and the other on the top half of her. As I held her she was rotating like a rotisserie chicken in the oven. After her screaming became escalated and a little distorted, my friend turned around and asked if she was laughing or if she was mad. "She's mad" is all I said. As I approached the Land Rover in the parking lot I was still hoping for my husband or Ashton Kutcher to coming jumping out from somewhere, but as I looked at the mostly empty parking lot, I realized there was no where for them to hide, let alone a tv crew. So I keep walking - oh wait, what was that? That was a boot that my daughter just kicked off as her legs flew all over the place. I stopped and prepared to bend over to pick up her boot the best I could - with a 25 pound stomach sticking out and my 30 pound daughter wrapped around me. I either was going to drop her, fall over completely or I was actually going to succeed in getting her boot. I bend over and I was able to pick up the boot without incident and as I raise up I see a couple mom's pulling out of the parking lot. They were clearing looking at me and my daughter and they seemed to have a look of 'pain' on their face. Maybe they felt sorry for me because they've had the same thing happen with their kid, or they figured I was a terrible mom and needed help with taming my tiger, I mean, child.
I'm almost to our Rover and the boot falls again. I try to pick it up again and proceeded to drop it again. Now I'm mad. I get the boot, I open the door and I put her in her car seat. My beautiful daughter turned towards me, arched her back and screamed at the top of her lungs her eyes glowing in a stare down attempt. Now, I've never seen the movie The Exorcist and never wanted to, but even those of us who've never seen it have seen the scene when Linda Blair's head spins around. Staring at my daugther I was wondering if that was going to happen right there in my own vehicle. Had her arching fit taken place in my Stratus, gravity is on my side and I can lean on her and get her strapped in the car seat. Not so much with the Land Rover. Not only is it high, but I'm pregnant and don't have much use of my stomach muscles right now, so I did the only thing I could do. I grabbed her crotch, pushed her in the seat and strapped one leg in. As I'm doing this my friend walks over and asks if I'll be okay. 'Yeah, I'll be fine' I lied and continued on. She is now arching her back, and leaning to her right so I can't get her left leg in the strap - but I was pretty much livid right now and running on pure adrenalin. I grabbed her leg, pushed her down as hard as I could muster and got the other leg strapped in. Ah ha, victory. She's still screaming. Her head isn't spinning, but her screaming is now worse. I slip her arms in the arms straps, knowing they won't stay long since both latches broke within a couple days of each other - but I had hope. I shut the door and got in to drive away amidst the ear piercing screams from the back seat. I reached back and took her barbie away and let her know she would get it back 'tomorrow'. Following that remark, sounds came from the back seat that you would never suppose would come from a 3 1/2, 30 pound little girl.
She takes her arms out of the straps and in the manliest voice kept repeating 'BARBIE, BARBIE' as she tried reaching into the front seat. After a couple minutes I realize her hands are coming a little too far up front for being strapped in the back seat, so I take a quick glance and see that my 30 pound daughter has pulled her car seat almost completely off the back seat and is now at an angle. I still can't figure out how she got the seat belt to loosen up like that. I reached back and the best I could I pushed her seat back onto the back seat and finished our drive home. I didn't even have a radio to drown out the sounds. Just screaming. I let her know, in a very loud voice that when we got home she was going to go straight to her room. And then I told her that I was taking every toy she had away. Every toy! Every movie! Even toys I already gave away, I was going to take away! I was over it! I was done!
When we got home and stepped inside, I told her to get up to her room - and much to my surprise, she did. I went up after her, watched her climb into her bed and I told her I'd come get her after a while and she said, crying, 'Okay'. Ahhh, so I shut the door enjoying the fact that I could just sit in silence for a while. That's when I noticed that my dog had gotten sick all over our office floor. Three times to be exact. So, I had to clean this up - which is not easy when you're pregnant and everything makes you gag. Seriously, I've been gagging for 8 1/2 months now. So, I got the gloves, bags and towels and began to clean up the vomit and all the while thinking how much I wanted to cry. Oh wait, I did cry. I was exhausted. I just had an energy draining 'pick up the daugther from preschool' and now I'm on my hands and knees gagging and cleaning up dog vomit. All I wanted to do was lay down and go to sleep and wake up with my husband home taking care of everything. But, that wasn't going to happen. So I had a very small pity party, with myself as the only guest, cleaned up the mess, sat in a chair and waited until my daughter was allowed to come out.
And all of that, my friends, took place in a 45 minute time period. I never did hear 'Surprise!' I never met Ashton. And I never did find out how my daugther pulled the car seat off the back seat of the Land Rover. It was just one of those days.
fyi...the photos above are of my beautiful daughter!
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