Ok so it’s not been that bad… but let me tell you a little story. As any mother of small children knows, just when you think you’ve got your kid figured out and your routine is in place, they throw you a giant curveball of flaming poop and refuse to nap, or God-forbid STOP CRYING. And you also probably realize that what worked for your first child is about as useful as a Russian textbook on taxidermy in regards to parenting your second child. Kaden… easy baby, easily plugged up by a pacifier, took 2 long naps a day (sometimes 3), always fell asleep in the car and would stay asleep through my errands or dinner out, etc. Molly… NOT. SO. MUCH. Can you say “drama?” No seriously, say it. Outloud. Because then I won’t feel so alone in my usage of the word “drama” 15 times a day.
Maybe it’s just the difference between boys and girls. If so, can I just apologize to you now, Mom? 3 girls? You should be canonized, or knighted, or something else really awesome. Or maybe it’s looking back at the infant months with rose-colored glasses. Either way, Molly is incredibly more high maintenance than Kaden ever was. Sure, I had bad days with Kaden. But far too often these days Trey gets a text from me that goes something like this: “I can’t take it anymore. She is driving me crazy! Seriously. For real. I’m not gonna make it till 5 o’clock.” (Man, I bet he can’t wait to get home on those days…)
Well after a long week of Molly being an overall pain, and preparing to go out of town for a week, I needed to go to Target (for necessities (like Twizzlers pull and peels) and just for my sanity). I, of course, thought I had planned it perfectly. Molly had just eaten, should fall asleep in the car and then either stay asleep through my Target run or enjoy being pushed around and watching Kaden above her in the cart. Boy was I ever wrong. My first stop was the dressing room to try on a few shirts and a new nursing bra. After squeezing the cart into the room and trying on my shirts, Molly decided to completely derail. So, as Molly is crying screaming in her car seat in the cart, Kaden’s inside voice has become flight deck of an aircraft carrier loud as he’s attempting to narrate my every move.
While trying to calmly explain to Kaden that he doesn’t need to add to the noise, I’m frantically undressing to try on the last shirt and then finally the nursing bra. Now, if it’s not bad enough that I’m having to shop for a bra… it’s a nursing bra. *Groan* So there I am… about to try on my bra, Molly’s screaming her head off, and Kaden starts to point and yell, “Mommy’s boobies! Mommy’s boobies! Maaahmeeee’s booooobies!” Now remember, Molly is screaming, so Kaden thinks that in order to be heard he has to yell louder than Molly. So I’m sure everyone in the half of the store nearest to the dressing room can hear Kaden screaming “mommy’s boobies.” Now, if I laugh… Kaden will realize that what he’s saying is funny and will say it louder and more often. So I don’t laugh. Barely. Part of me wants to cry b/c I’m so over Molly crying every time she’s in public in her car seat and because I just want to shop for a freaking bra in peace without the entire store knowing about it.
I couldn’t even make eye contact with the dressing room attendant as I handed her back all the clothes that did not fit *double groan* b/c I’m sure she thought I was torturing Molly with my boobies or something weird like that. But I still needed to get Kaden some sandals and a gallon of milk so off we go, screaming baby in tow (don’t make a rhyming joke, it’ll just make it worse). I let Kaden out of the cart in the shoe section to make sure the sandals fit and he starts to run laps up and down the aisle in his sandals that are attached to each other by an elastic band. I can see people giving me looks somewhere between compassion and disdain b/c of the noise coming out of Molly and my toddler running with his feet allowed to go no more than 4 inches ahead of each other.
Next, time to get milk. Kaden is now telling everyone we pass, “Mah-ee not happy.” Really? Thanks for stating the obvious buddy. After a quick stop down the candy vegetable aisle we head for check out. Molly is still screaming. And what do you know? There are two cashiers and about 12 people in line. Blergh! By the grace of God Molly finally finds her thumb and plugs herself up for a few minutes. We finally get to the front of the line and as I’m loading my stuff on the conveyer belt, Molly decides to scream some more. I’ve never seen a cashier get so flustered and work so fast to get me out of there! I’m sure she appreciated it when I handed her the empty bag of fruit snacks from the dollar bin that Kaden had been chewing on.
Of course, the second I got the car out of the parking space Molly was asleep. Until we pulled into the garage. Because that’s how this girl rolls. So finally, both kids are napping in their cribs. I got to eat some hummus for lunch at 3:00. And I’m hoping Trey comes home tonight after the text I sent him from my lowest point at Target.
Your blog always makes me laugh hysterically, because I empathize with many of your stories (and I can laugh-now). I have my own well-planned, bra-trying-on horror story, but it was only with one kid. And after reading this, I’m thankful that he couldn’t vocalize the word boobies! Just wait until Molly is old enough to run through Target, lift her shirt, and tell everyone in the isle about her own boobies (my neighbor’s daughter did this). Hopefully you have a relatively uneventful evening 😉