My children are amazing most of the time, but there are always those few moments when you just want to crawl under your chair and become invisible. Ever had one of those moments? Unfortunately, I feel like I have them all too often these days.
We spent this past weekend at my sister's house in San Francisco, and I swear I spent the entire time chasing after my kids in an effort to stymie their attempts at embarassing me. They ran amok in her house, causing messes everywhere, leading my sister to comment, "I just can't keep ahead of all this mess!" They threw food on the floor in her house, in her new car, and even on the airplane to and from the city. Still, that isn't the worst of the behavior that made my cheeks flame and beads of sweat pop out on my forehead.
We experienced a particularly uncomfortable 4 minute gaff at the coffee stand in Golden Gate Park. I ordered a cup of Blue Bottle Coffee (a San Francisco treat) and had to wait as they individually brew it directly into your cup. While I waited at the coffee stand, a man and his 2 children rode up on bikes. The kids were probably right around Laney's age, with long flowing locks streaming out from under their helmets. My mom and Laney both commented on how "that little girl has the same Skuut bike as you Laney!" The father turned around and glared at us as the older of the 2 children proclaimed that they weren't girls, but were in fact, boys. I then had to stand next to that father for the next 4 minutes as my coffee percolated trying to make uncomfortable conversation until the coffee maven rescued me with the delivery of my steaming cup. A bit embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as the haircuts those little boys had. Really, that dad was just asking for it by allowing his boys to masquerade as Fabio, but in San Francisco you see all kinds I guess.
One would think that that would be the most embarrassing thing that could possibly happen in one weekend. Not true. We hit up Babies R Us (or as those of us with small children refer to it: Mecca) to help Jessica register. If you haven't been into the big purple wonder emporium lately, you have to check in at a registration desk to give them all pertinent information before they hand you the magic scanning gun and send you off in a cloud of overwhelmed anxiety. As a side note, never register without someone who has been through it all before! I headed off to the nursing room to change Liam's diaper, while Laney hung back with Jessica and Shesh. When I returned to the desk, the large woman behind the counter eyeballed me and I could only wonder what kind of things Laney had told her in my absence. I could hear her shrill little toddler voice all the way back in the crib section, and I knew she was on a roll. Predictably, she led off with her go-to story: Sean and Buster vs. the tent. My mom reported that after that story she got on a roll and had been going nonstop for nearly 5 minutes. The desk clerk helping us typed with fury in an attempt to get us to go away, and looked at me with a sidelong smirk that clearly meant, "rein in your kid lady!"
No more embarrassment ensued until I attempted the flight home with the kids. Going through the security with the kids is quite an exercise in packing and contortion as I struggled to contain Liam with one arm and fold the stroller and insert it into the xray machine with the other. I also had to remove my shoes, pull all liquids out of the diaper bag, and get it all into the machine before any of us were allowed to go through the metal detector. Making sure not to let Liam touch the sides of the detector, we made it through without setting off the machine. The TSA does not require children to remove their shoes anymore, but Laney insists on taking them off just like me. I had to tell her that they were checking to see if our shoes were stinky, because I was certain that if I explained the real reason she would tell someone I had a bomb in my shoes and we would never make it home.
After we came through security, she grabbed her shoes from the security belt and sat down next to it to put them back on. Now no one behind us could get their stuff and the whole process came to a grinding halt. I couldn't reach the stroller because of her position, and was forced to repack our stuff holding Liam under one arm. (I can't put him down because he is a runner.) We FINALLY headed down the ramp to gate 30 to board our plane. I cleverly stopped at Peet's Coffee to get some milk for their sippy cups. I wanted to get a coffee for myself, but couldn't figure out how to hold it and get all 3 of us onto the plane without burning one of the kids with scalding goodness. Oh well, a Diet Coke from the flight attendant would suffice, but I digress. I paid for the very overpriced milk and as we were stepping back from the counter, Laney pointed at the 3 Japanese workers behind the counter and yelled, "They don't have eyes!" Cheeks flushed? Check. Beads of sweat popping out on my forehead? Check. Desperately attempting a dash to the gate before anyone hears her? Miserable fail. As I made her walk faster, she kept saying in the loudest voice possible, "They have no eyes!" I notice many passengers staring at us and the coffee cart, and I proclaimed loudly in an attempt to save face, "Those people over there (pointing to some sleeping passengers on a bench) are sleeping and that's why it looks like they don't have eyes." I thought that would satisfy everyone's curiosity, but Laney one-upped me and turned to point at the Peet's Coffee workers and say, "No, those guys. Those guys don't have eyes." Let me just tell you that there was no part of me that didn't want to crawl under the nearest bench and hide.
So now everyone on flight 2117 knew who we were. At least if they didn't, they were about to find out for the next 70 minutes as Liam screamed for nearly the whole flight. He was teething, tired, and wanted to roam about the plane. Being corralled into his row made him mad and his only retaliation was biting. He bit both Laney and I multiple times, threw things on the floor, and even tried to snatch the iPad from a man behind us after sticking his arm between the seats when I wasn't looking. I'm pretty sure the 9 people sitting directly around us called their loved ones from the San Diego airport to tell them they had just survived the most miserable flight of their lives. I survived too, but just barely, and have never been so thankful to see Patrick waiting for us at the Baggage Claim.
I naively thought the embarrassment was over, but Patrick deftly pointed out to me as we headed to the car, that there was chocolate smeared all across the seat of my pants. I guess Laney must have spilled some of the chocolate I was using to coax Liam into good behavior and didn't tell me about it. The smear seriously covered my entire rear end, extending down the back of my thighs as my body heat melted it and accelerated the expansion. I then realized that I had been walking around the airport looking like I had totally crapped myself, and simultaneously felt like laughing and crying. The perfect end to the most horrific airplane flight of my life.
Putting the kids to bed that night was literally the highlight of my day. All I can say is, watch out kids. Payback is coming, right around the time that you guys hit your teenage years. Just when you least expect it, mom is going to embarrass the hell out of you, and it's going to feel good.
Anyhow, as I was folding laundry on the dining room table this morning, I realized that it was VERY quiet all of the sudden, and I didn't know where the kids were. I quickly located Laney watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on the couch, and then rounded the corner to the laundry room to find Liam.He was eating Cheerios...right out of the gross trash bag from the car. My stomach heaved as I ran for my camera (as all good moms do!) Don't worry, I took the old ones (well, the ones that he didn't eat yet) away and gave him new, clean Cheerios.
