Okay, time for me to vent. Sorry if this gets out of control, or I start rambling, or whatever. But I’m pissed right now.
Today was Noah’s last t-ball game. It’s a gorgeous day, a wonderful breeze blowing, and the team did great. They don’t keep score, but everyone did their best, they had fun, and it was a great ending to the season. We decided to go out for ice cream with three other players. Sounds like a great treat, right? Not so much for me.
We get to the ice cream shop, and immediately my boys are forgetting we’re in a smaller area and start practically shouting to each other about a big tub inside the door that has water flowing into it and tons of coins at the bottom of it. Suddenly I’m being bombarded from all sides for pennies, dimes, quarters, anything I have that resembles a coin. Never mind we’re there for ice cream and I still need to order.
Okay, ordering is done, money is handed out, and we’re heading to a large booth in the back corner. Our ice cream comes, and for 5 blissful minutes, it’s pretty quiet. The moms are enjoying some nice conversation. It should be pointed out that one of the moms is someone who I have just met about 10 minutes earlier. We’re talking about school, the neighborhood, regular old mom talk. Then Noah pipes up to tell me he’s done with his ice cream. I suggest he eat some of Caden’s ice cream since Caden never finishes his. Caden starts to freak out. Thus begins the slippery slope downward.
As the other three kids are sitting nicely, eating their ice cream, Noah starts crawling around on the bench then on the floor to get over to the other side of the table. (Side note: I’m not a big germ freak, but I get really grossed out when my kids are on the floor in public places, especially restaurants where people drop food, step in it, all that gross stuff.) So I’m trying not to make a big scene, but I’m telling Noah to please stay off of the floor. Well, then Caden decides to join in the “fun”, trying to keep up with the big kids. His favorite thing to do that he seems to think is really silly and funny for everyone: spitting. Again, I’m not a huge germ freak, but I. Hate. Spitting. I think I have to tell him on a daily basis, if not more often, that spitting is not acceptable, it spreads germs, and it’s totally gross. Next thing you know, he’s on the floor (gross), spitting (double gross), and talking baby talk. The other three kids are sitting nicely, eating their ice cream.
At this point, I’m trying so hard to not be the screaming mom, the one who can’t control her kids, so desperate to make a good first impression on this new mom. Why does it matter what she thinks of me? I don’t know. But it does, to me. So I say that I think it’s time that we left. Well, that brings up screaming from Caden, significant protesting from Noah, and more mortification for me. We try to quickly say our goodbyes, me trying to save any ounce of dignity I may have left, and leave.
This was our third outing to ice cream shops this summer and the third time it ended with the boys getting out of control, not listening to me, and me getting embarrassed for them to be totally disrespectful to me and anyone around us. It should also be noted that many of our dinner outings end similarly. Oh, and numerous shopping trips also end this way.
So what am I doing wrong? It’s not like we never go out to eat. It’s not like we don’t go out to run errands. It’s not like I don’t tell them the appropriate way to act in public. In fact, we regularly run errands. I regularly go over the general rules as to how they are to act, or how they are not to act. It’s pretty simple, I think: keep you hands to yourself, keep your voices down, no running, and listen to me the first time. How hard is it? Seriously.
I’m getting fired up just thinking about today. Both of the moms I was with have four kids each. FOUR! And I can’t control two! As we were about to leave, I just said that my boys’ behavior is the best birth control there is.
Where did I go wrong? AUGHHHHHHHH!!!