So yesterday was a fun day, of sorts. Yesterday was one of now, since the big move, relatively few days that was just me and the kids. In Bristol I had these days down. Full on routine. Breakfast, park, Aldi, lunch, sleep, craft/bake, cafe, tea, Daddy home, bed. We all knew where we were and we were like a well-oiled, family-machine…most days.
Since the move I seem to have lost my lone-parenting rhythm.
Faced with a totally rain-laden sky our options for the day pretty much halved. And we needed milk. Stat.
Knowing full well that the suggestion of a trip around Asda was not going to entice The Smalls to behave in any desirable fashion I decided to combine said trip with storytime at the local library, conveniently located right next door.
We have attended storytime before when the focus was trains. Little Miss was dressed up as Thomas the Tank Engine by a librarian and there were three wooden push-along trains that the kids enjoyed racing up and down the room to happy cries of ‘Choo choo.’ They listened to stories. All was good.
Yesterday there was no theme. But the three wooden trains were there. On display. Up high.
As soon as we entered Little Miss spied them and started to point. And shout. “Choo choo Mummy.”
With slightly more aggression, “Choo choo Mummy?”
Full red-faced pelt “CHOO CHOO MUMMY!”
I am ashamed to say that at this point, feeling the stares and the judgement from all fellow parents I caved. In the hope of restoring the children’s library to it’s former state of calm I grabbed two of the three trains on display and handed them to my kids. And then the third to another kid who, following suit, decided to have a meltdown of ALMOST equal proportions.
Job done. Fire out. Calm restored.
Until we needed to leave.
“Will, it’s time to go love.”
“Ok Mummy.” Puts on coat.
“Em, it’s time to go love. Come and get your coat.”
“Em, it’s time to go.”
“No. No. My choo choo.” *Crawls away pushing toy train.*
“Em, it’s lunchtime. Let’s go home and have lunch.”
“No. MY choo choo. MINE.”
“Em, we’ll come back and see the choo choo next week.”
“NOOOOO! MY CHOO CHOO. MINE. MINE.”
“Em..” *approaches softly…*
“NO!” (I will take your soft approach and raise you…) *swipes ENTIRE shelf of books to the floor then lies prostrate, legs kicking, bawling, MY CHOO CHOO, NO, MY CHOO CHOO, MINE, MINE, MINE, MINE, MY CHOO CHOO*
To which I watch in horror while Will stands and points at her stating repeatedly “Look Mummy look.”
There was really no need to point.
The whole storytime circle of immaculately behaved, cross-legged, angel-kids and their clearly much-better-at-this-than-me-parents were perfectly aware of EXACTLY where she was. Oh yes. This show was way too good to miss. Beatrix Potter has nothing on Little Miss in a tantrum.
Eventually, after what felt like a MILLION YEARS, I finally managed to wrestle her, kicking and screaming into her coat. Then after another MILLION YEARS wrestled her, kicking and screaming into her buggy.
Then I pushed her, kicking and screaming, out of the library, the halls ringing out to the desperate wails of..
“MY CHOO CHOO.”
We won’t be going back to story time for a while yet.
Happy Mothers Day folks. *Passes Gin.*
EVERY Mother feels your pain! x
Thank you. Oh man, WHAT a day!
Michael Cargill says
Just wait until she sees Thomas the Tank Engine on TV.
Emma (@emvanstone) says
Oh dear, we’ve all been there 🙂 I recommend online shopping 😉
Oh dear, sounds very familiar! Hope today is a bit calmer for you 🙂
Don’t worry – they weren’t looking at you judging, they were thinking, “Thanks goodness that’s not my kid….for a change!” I know it won’t make it better, but suffice to say both mine did this in very public places, and one of them even punched me in the head while I was trying to take them away from the cause of the tantrum… *oh the joys of mothering*
I think you did well to go. What is it about these angelic kids’ parents that makes them just stare?! Hope things improved when you got home.
Actually Mummy says
Oh god these things happen without warning don’t they? I’ve had a few in my time, but I always forget how stressful they are until I see a toddler being dragged out of Claire’s Accessories utterly devastated because they’re not allowed to choose a too expensive Frozen backpack. (Happened recently and made me want to gift one to her). Child and parent both completely wrecked! 🙁
Oh gosh… Take solace in the fact that one day, when she’s a teenager and you visit the library together, you will be able to remind her (very loudly) of this incident!! 😀
Donna White says
This reminds me of when Brodie took a shine to one of the books in the doctor’s waiting room when he was about 2. Once we’d seen the GP and it was time to go, he made such a fuss about letting go of the book that the receptionist told us to take it home with us (probably just to get rid of the screaming toddler who was ruining everyone’s peace). Oh the shame of it!
Anya from Older Single Mum and The Healer says
Oh no! Poor you. These days are mortifying and I hope you feel better for getting it out. I always found chocolate raisins the perfect bribe, sorry ‘reward’ for coats, getting in pushchairs etc, if that’s any use. Good luck X
Michelle Twin Mum says
Oh yes I feel your pain, my twins were always the noisy ones at any kind of well-behaved toddler group. We never braved library story time! lol Mich x
Oh dear. I can only say it does get better. x