Flushed cheeks, close to tears, I left my friend Whitney's house with a wailing one year old and a whining and frustrated three year old. I was angry, mad, overwhelmed.
What I wanted to do was hide in a bathroom while someone else took care of the chaos that belonged to me and only me. What I did was take my chaos and leave.
I left because that really was my only move. Cookies we had brought to bake and decorate there stayed there. Dishes and frosting in bowls left on the table practically spinning I left so fast. The tension of Chaos One and Chaos Two made spasms creep up my back as I lugged child and diaper bag to the car while shepherding my eldest to the car. Our other friend Katherine left the room to give me space to make do. (Or she couldn't watch the train wreck that became our afternoon so closely!) Whitney was upstairs nursing her sweet babygirl to the soundtrack of our Novak Family meltdown.
Nothing really had happened.
It was life as usual, just badly timed.
A baby teething, tired and beyond the optimal nap time. A Mama eating a one handed lunch as I tried to keep both girls steady and safe, correct, feed, clean up after, rescue from a fall, check pants on day four of no diapers, serve and butter some cornbread in between.
I think there was beautifully made vegetable soup.
I think Katherine talked about an interesting way to make steak
The circus of children and my own shortcomings converged on Weston Street today. It was an epic playdate fail.
Do you have one of your own? I could use a good bad story right now!