I spent the entire morning talking on the phone, texting and emailing, trying to do triage on a youth activity that is happening this weekend. It had sort of imploded. At one point, I texted Adam for help on a sort of confrontational text message I needed to send someone else. "Save me from myself," I pleaded.
Adam is wise with words and emotions and I knew he was my guy to correct my tone but still get the message across.
When he saw my text, he texted back, "I'm going to call you."
Yep, I needed his help and he knew it.
He texted me an alternative message and then he texted that their office was being evacuated because of a strong natural gas smell.
It was that sort of morning.
At 11:30, I was still in my pajamas and hadn't really done any of the tasks I'd planned for the day.
I decided in favor of ignoring the laundry and cleaning and what not and got myself ready for the day and went to Target.
Sometimes you just need to.
It was not the respite from power struggles and negotiations and whining that I was hoping for. (And yes, a portion of the morning's whining had been from me.) It's not so much that the toddlers and preschoolers around here are any more disagreeable than toddlers and preschoolers anywhere, there's just so many of them.
Why do I keep forgetting that?
In a nod to incompetent parents everywhere, a kid was screaming and flailing like he was being tortured. "I want a toy I want a toy I want a toy," he gasped between sobs.
At the same time, the dad said, "Maybe I'll get you a toy. I said maybe. I said maybe. OK. I'll get you a toy."
The child ceased the tantrum immediately and sat sedately in the cart.
And the Oscar for most effective performance in manipulating his parent goes to the child in aisle 12.
It's possible I've achieved a new level of crankiness but nothing makes you appreciate your teenage and young adult children more than a trip to Target in American Fork in the middle of the day.
(The Target trip wasn't a total loss. I bought Working Hands hand cream which Tabor recommended...after excessive whining about my hands. Those kids at Target have nothing on me when it comes to whining.)