Welcome to the jungle
Most days I feel I've got this working mother thing down pat. Yesterday was not one of those days.
The girls have made friends with another girl who goes to the same after school program. The mother and I have become friendly, the girl has come to our house for playdates and I agreed to let the mother take them home with her yesterday and then I'd pick them up at her house when I got home from work.
Big mistake. L threw a tantrum when it was time to leave, and despite gentle cajoling, promises and threats, she continued to rage. The upshot? I ended up alternatively picking each one up, dragging the other one (L didn't even have a coat on in the freezing cold) the 2 blocks to the car, and while they both screamed bloody murder in the backseat, realized I had left my car keys in the mother's apartment.
By the time we got home, both were in full-out tantrum mode, and I literally had to push J inside the house, because she refused to go in and L was freezing.
Which prompted my daughter to start screaming at me over and over again, "You are the devil!" Then, when it just became all too much for one supermom to bear, and I started crying, L came over and clutched as my legs, shouting, "Stop crying! I don't know what to do when you cry!"
Which stopped me dead in my tracks. Last thing I need is for my 5-year-old to have to worry about taking care of her mother.
So since their father had to work late last night and I knew I had to go it alone, I breathed in and breathed out, was finally able to calm them down and get them into bed and asleep by 9 p.m. One half in her pajamas, the other fully clothed. No one brushed their teeth.
Lesson learned? No playdates on weekdays ever again.
The girls have made friends with another girl who goes to the same after school program. The mother and I have become friendly, the girl has come to our house for playdates and I agreed to let the mother take them home with her yesterday and then I'd pick them up at her house when I got home from work.
Big mistake. L threw a tantrum when it was time to leave, and despite gentle cajoling, promises and threats, she continued to rage. The upshot? I ended up alternatively picking each one up, dragging the other one (L didn't even have a coat on in the freezing cold) the 2 blocks to the car, and while they both screamed bloody murder in the backseat, realized I had left my car keys in the mother's apartment.
By the time we got home, both were in full-out tantrum mode, and I literally had to push J inside the house, because she refused to go in and L was freezing.
Which prompted my daughter to start screaming at me over and over again, "You are the devil!" Then, when it just became all too much for one supermom to bear, and I started crying, L came over and clutched as my legs, shouting, "Stop crying! I don't know what to do when you cry!"
Which stopped me dead in my tracks. Last thing I need is for my 5-year-old to have to worry about taking care of her mother.
So since their father had to work late last night and I knew I had to go it alone, I breathed in and breathed out, was finally able to calm them down and get them into bed and asleep by 9 p.m. One half in her pajamas, the other fully clothed. No one brushed their teeth.
Lesson learned? No playdates on weekdays ever again.
posted by workinmom at 5:19 PM
4 Comments:
Oy, poor you - you're braver than I am with the playdates, lol!
SusanKWF
OMG, this has totally happened to me. My daughter's best friend is the calmest child imaginable. And somehow, every single time I go to pick my daughter up at her house, I end up looking like a psycho, because my daughter just won't leave, and screams at me, calls me names, etc. Nice to know I'm not the only one, but sorry it happened to you (if that makes sense).
Yes, misery does love company and it's good to know I'm not alone. I kinda figured I wasn't but it's comforting to get validation on the point!
Oh, poor you! My kids behave like this more frequently than I'd care to admit. I can totally relate to having to forcibly move your daughter into the house. Just yesterday my 3-year-old son wouldn't get out of his carseat. I decided to go in the house without him, and just my walking away from car prompted a huge meltdown. Then, after finally getting out of the car, he sat down on the front steps in 25-degree cold and wouldn't come in. I had to carry him. I wonder what the neighbors think.
Post a Comment
<< Home