Put a fork in me

Jen works all weekend, so I have the two kids to myself. Saturday, I didn’t want to stay home because that is boring. I decided to brave a trip to the Children’s Museum.

It was raining that day. Everyone else in the city decided it was a good day to go the museum too. I put the baby in a wrap, and actually talked my son into wearing a jacket. I felt like supermom. And it started out ok, but then about an hour in at the Peep and the Big Wide World Exhibit, my son threw himself on the floor in tears. He was hungry. I had forgotten to give him breakfast! To the Au Bon Pain. Stat.

But of course, it was noon. Everyone else was there too. We wandered around for 20 minutes looking for a seat. Every time something opened up, another family would push past us and take it. After a little while of this, my son was in full on melt down mode, and the baby was screaming too. I decided to stop looking and just stand there and cry with my kids. I thought maybe somebody would throw us some food.

When we did get a table, of course, the food took forever, and the baby soiled her diapers just as soon as I sat down. But after a bit, the baby was changed, the boy was fed, and I even stole a bite or two myself.

But when we left, my son decided to throw another fit. He has really learned how to communicate his needs. He didn’t want to budge. I was tired and embarrassed, but I dragged him out of there.

I decided to stop at Dunkin Donuts because I needed a coffee. P decided he wanted a donut. I told him that he really didn’t deserve one. At the counter, he kept crying, “I’m hungry, I’M HUNGRY.” Until the girl at the counter gave him a whole bag of munchkins for free.

It went on like this for the rest of the day. When Jen got home, she had a chipper, “How was your day?” I handed her the baby without saying a word.

Put a fork in me. I’m done.