I knew what I was doing. Me alone with the two of you, at the mall? Put the chopper on standby, this daredevil’s gonna need reinforcements.
We couldn’t get out of that little circle of rides area, as expected.
There was the fire truck. The orange tractor. The yellow helicopter. The red rocket you shared, half a cheek on the tiny one-seat each. Blast off! it cried and you cried. (And blast off, and blast off, and yup, there it is again, this ain’t gettin’ old anytime soon, blast off.)
It is Friday, and this was the plan.
There’s an expression, we plan and god laughs. Well man am I funny, and not for my superior humor skills, because I plan and plan…
My plan this morning was to have no plan. To go with the chaos. Often the hardest times I have as a parent are the times when I’m trying to make what I want to happen happen–just sleep so I can write this email without interruption; please just sit here and watch this movie so I can cook dinner; come on, we need to put shoes on and get out of the house NOW! When you guys resist, when my vision of a day falls apart ridiculously (why are we sitting on lawn chairs in the living room with buckets on our heads eating ice pops right before dinner, how did this happen?), that’s when the frustration kicks in. If I were in a rush today or had some plan to scoop us off to, our schedule to keep, me and the white rabbit (we’re late for naptime!) that whole 10,000 rides on the Blast Off rocket would’ve been a stress. I could hear me now, fist on the hip, You guys, come on, we have to go!
Remember to check yourself like this, babies. And not just in times of bad news when you get a jolt of perspective. Try it on a sunny Friday. When you can feel it and see what really is important so clearly. My family is okay, nothing else matters. So the mall was going to be a disaster. So you almost stole seven (7) glitter Hello Kitty handbags off the wall and ran out of H&M with them, Baby Girl. So I ended up having to buy one of those bags. So you wanted these striped european swim trunks, Baby Boy, that are pretty bad, that your father is going to kill me for, so I bought them for you, so what.
…I’m in a fair here tomorrow highlighting local moms and their business, Port Washington’s first Momtreprenuer Fair. It’s two hours of me talking to strangers, self-promoting my blog. At first when I signed up I panicked, my cheeks turning red at the thought, oh no, what have I done? Now, I got my table all set to go. My business cards. I’m ready. I’m looking forward to it. Hey, it might even be fun.
I think of a dog chasing its tail in circles, around and around and around, and then suddenly, stop. Maybe he, too, has moments when he sees his own foolishness.