I am a stay-at-home-mom. Full time. Since my son, Bug, was born, I have stayed home with him. My husband, Big, is a working machine. Full time. He goes in early (around 6:00am) so he can be home at a reasonable time to eat dinner with us every night. He also treasures the brief playtime between dinner and bath so he can shrug off the work of the day with our Bug. Then after our son is in bed, he pulls out his laptop and continues to plow through work via computer until about 11:00 or 11:30pm.
I am lucky to have a husband that takes such an active role. When he comes home, I am off mommy duty and can handle other things that have been waiting or just relax. He loves being a daddy. It's easily his favorite job but not the one that pays. So he bites the bullet and works hard enough to keep me home with Bug. I am appreciative beyond words so I won't even try here.
Occasionally, Big has to travel for a meeting. Then Bug and I have a free-for-all-day or two...or three. You may be thinking that, as a mom who stays home every day with her kid, these business trips come and go without a hitch. You'd be crazy. I have to get into a mindset...not unlike one a soldier adopts before heading into battle. (Nice analogy!) Just meaning that I have to be prepared to fill our time with fun and activity because my reinforcement won't be coming in the door to relieve me at the end of my energy supply. So, I attempt to keep it interesting in hopes that both of us to fall into bed after bath time and fall soundly asleep until the sun is well into the sky again the following morning.
And yes, while daddy's away, mommy does pray. For patience. For energy. For fun that would rival anything Julie (the ship's 'fun peddler' on Love Boat) could cook up for her cruisers. For steady moods on, both, Bug's and my part. And, of course, for Big's safe and speedy return home.
How was that for the back story?! Now on with my post...
Thank goodness I was praying because had I not been, someone's little girl would have received a year and a half in 'time out' from me or possibly a solid slap on the behind were I not a sane person. (For all you non-spankers, don't hate me...this little girl will one day be residing in a women's prison.)
One evening during Big's trip to San Antonio, Bug and I decided to head to D.Q for a blizzard. Now, I'm not a fast food mom and I'm also not an organic produce buying, granola-pushing mom. I fall someplace in the middle but we don't often head out to fast food places and we've only ever gone one other time for ice cream. Normally, I serve up a scoop or two from a carton in the freezer to meet our frozen, sweet treat, food pyramid allotment. But, it was Miracle Treat Day. This is when D.Q donates the proceeds from all blizzard purchases to the Children's Mir.acle Network. Well, sign me up...ice cream for a cause, we're there!
Besides their delectable ice cream concoctions, this particular D.Q also happens to have the world's largest play place...in my humble opinion. So big, in fact, that I could have announced; "They're all out of ice cream, Bug. Looks like we'll get to indulge in peanut butter covered tetanus shots instead" and he'd have taken one for the team just to romp in the play place...he hates anything peanut butter and who likes shots?! We got our blizzard and headed out to play. Bug was eating drive-by bites of or.eo blizzard and climbing, jumping, sliding like a man on a mission.
About 5 minutes into playtime, naughty girl made her entrance to the play zone in grand princess fashion. And that's what her doting parents called her during their stay...Princess. I wish them well during her teens years and future incarceration. I will, henceforward, refer to her as inmate #54321.
Bug went right about the business of playing himself into exhaustion. Shortly after #54321 arrived, she marched up to Bug and shrieked for no reason directly into his face. He was puzzled and understandably scared as to why this tiny nutcase did that. Nevertheless, he went on with his fun and found a LARGE ball to push around. Evidently #54321 thought the ball was hers, she took it from Bug and pushed him down. I asked him to use his words to tell her it was his turn and that he doesn't like to be pushed. You can reason with adults and children...not tiny sociopaths. She could have cared less about anything he said. Off she went, wrecking havoc on any child in her path.
Fortunately or not, either Bug is kind and forgiving or very forgetful. The next time #54321 wandered up to him, he treated her like any of the other normal kids he was playing with in the play place. He let her go through the tunnels and down the slide first. This is where he made his fatal error. She decided to turn around and try walking back up the slide that Bug was now attempting to come down. He must have run into her on his way down. I heard him say. "Girl, go down the slide. Not up." He got past her and started to scoot out of the long runway at the bottom. At this point #54321 tackles him from the back knocking him down. Not a problem, my kid is a big one and at 2 1/2 sometimes he can wrestle his older buddies to the ground. He can take a hit. Where he lost it was when she pulled him down onto his back and started ramming his head into the slide. Repeatedly. I jumped up and squeezed myself into the narrow slide tunnel and yanked Bug out of her evil clutches. He was, of course, crying by this time but I talked him down pretty quickly. Strangely, although her parents had witnessed her multiple attacks on Bug and a variety of other children, they didn't deem it necessary to address her behavior. Hmmmm...I just can't figure out where a child learns to behave that way but I have a slight suspicion.
I'm not about to punish Bug for #54321 being an undisciplined hot mess. I told him to go on playing but to stay away from that little girl for the rest of the time. No need to be forgiving or polite to a predator. Finally, her parents finished their dessert and loaded their ill-behaved princess into the paddy wagon to head back to 'the facility' where they are shaping her future. A collective sigh of relief was audibly heard as she put on her shoes to leave. The rest of the kids played in peace from the time she left until we had to go...and probably even after that.
Yes, I am officially "that mom." In some way, fighting my kid's battles. I am, by no means, trying to raise a mama's boy. I plan to raise a little man who respects other people and doesn't use his size as a weapon. He could have easily tussled with her (and there is a big part of me that wished he would have just put her in her place) but he doesn't behave that way and he is confused and scared by people who do. Thankfully!
So, there it was. The novel version of just one activity in our time without Daddy. He's home...Amen. Now I can focus my prayers to the safety of the other inmates in #54321's cell block.
Making Bets
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