Monday, January 14, 2013

There I was, 20 Weeks Pregnant...

Some days I wish my life were created into a documentary. Not because it's all that interesting, but because some of the things that happen to me really are simply unbelievable. Today was one of those days.

Neither of my children have ever left somewhere without a fight. I've tried the candy bribe, the clinched teeth whispering threat, the ear tug, the shoulder pinch... you name it, I've tried it. Brayden is getting better, but still has his moments. And Connor. Well, he's redefining what it means to have epic toddler tantrums. The boy is the sweetest of sweets one moment, but can turn on a dime and turn into the most violent tantrum thrower this side of the Mississippi. This means that most places I leave, I look like a mad woman chasing down preschoolers and trying to get out with all of us alive.

This is truer than true especially when leaving their preschool. Generally I have to hold both backpacks, 2 lunch boxes, and today I had coats and blankets to boot. As luck would have it, Connor decided that he didn't want to leave preschool today. So he did the limp body toddler move that most 2 year olds have perfected, and I sat there, wondering if I should leave well enough alone, threaten or chase after Brayden, who was making a mad dash for the door. So there I was, 20 weeks pregnant, with a dilemma on my hands and no energy to skillfully chose correctly. So I chose to multitask, grabbing Connors foot and hauling him by the leg to the door, which was where Brayden was making his way through the crowd.

Somehow between his classroom and the door (which can't be more than 10-20 yards at the most), Brayden managed to take off his shirt. Mind you, I'm still pulling Connor by the leg and juggling all of the school and cold weather paraphernalia in my other arm. We get to the door. I frantically try to redress Brayden. Another mom decided she'd help encourage Brayden by telling him it was cold outside. Considering I can't keep Brayden in pants and long sleeves longer than 2 hours per day, I'd say that trying to tell him it's cold is not going to do the trick. Instead, I used the bribe option, offering gum after nap as a reward. It worked. Next, I turned to Connor, who was still laying on the floor saying he didn't want to stand up all the while kicking his legs simultaneously. Awesome (and yes, if you must know, I seriously considered just leaving him there in the hallway for someone else to handle). I opted to use the clinched teeth verbal threat on Connor. Normally that doesn't work on Connor but for some reason that I will never know, immediately after the clinched teeth threat, he offered to hold my hand (NEVER happens) and obliged to walk willingly to the car. Hallelujah and praise Jesus!

We managed to get in the car in near record time, and I heaved a sigh of relief as I got into the drivers seat. I was thankful that the drama was over, but all I could keep thinking was "how in the world am I going to manage this situation when there are THREE!?!?!" Mercy. Mama needs a coke.

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