I suppose they re not bad. Actually, today, they are awful. The eldest is at summer camp, a well researched, thoughtful (on my part) summer camp and just gone in. I still worry will he be ok, will he manage, will he make friends? I sign him in quickly and run back to the car to the screaming baby and toddler. It’s lashing a la July monsoon rain in Co. Kerry. Don’t judge me, it was three minutes and they have colds. I promise.
Toddler; I want to go to the park mommy (the park is next to the community centre).
Me: Not today darling, we need to get the baby home, he’s tired.
Baby: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, wa, wa, wa, waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Me: It’s ok baby, we’ll be home soon and you’ll go to bed.
Toddler; But I want to go to the park, I really really love that park.
(If you’re looking for originality today, move on, this is just me ranting.)
Toddler: I want to go to the parrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrk.
Inner Me: Wow, you really are a terrible mother, he is spoilt rotten. What do you do? Do you give in and bring him to the park like yesterday or do you hold tough? You’re like a pressure cooker now. No, best go home, but wait, you have to order that part in the garage. Just pretend you’re going home and play soothing music and they won’t even notice that you’re not going home. Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths. If I were more organized, this wouldn’t happen. Were I stricter? If I was French now, I certainly wouldn’t have two cranky children in the back of the car. Au contraire. They’d be sitting reading Baudelaire apparently. Oh no, I’m not going to get away with this diversion. If I lived in a city, I wouldn’t have to drive 30 minutes to get to the (insert profanity of choice) garage. I just want coffee and five minutes peace from these people. Suck it in. Distract them, they’ll be fine.
Me: Not today, love. How many red cars can you count?