Some days I feel like I've totally got this mom-of-two-boys thing down. Days like that the house is clean, dinner gets cooked, everyone's clothes stay semi-clean, and I'm able to keep my cool and patience all day long no matter what my toddler throws at me.... physically or mentally.
Today began that way, but it certainly did not end that way. My baby slept 11 hours straight and only woke up once in the night. I left him for the first time to go get my hair cut. Leaving your baby for the first time is always nerve wracking, but also liberating. Feeling well rested with bouncy new hair, I felt like I could tackle anything so I decided to take both boys swimming by myself. Picture this: me carrying my baby in his ridiculously heavy and awkward carseat, a giant bag of swimming essentials, and toddler in tow. We walk what seems like a mile through Cherry Hill to our spot. I get everyone dressed, sunscreened, hydrated, and ready to go when a giant toddler meltdown ensues. Beckett doesn't throw tantrums often, but when he does they are bad. This went on for some time before I decided there was not going to be any recovering and we just needed to go home without even stepping in the water. Beckett firmly stood his ground screaming at the top of his lungs while I begged him to walk with me. After trying every trick I knew, and attracting every person in Pirate's Cove's attention, the scene finally ended with me carrying my crying baby and giant bag while literally dragging my howling toddler out by the arm. I smiled politely as I reassured the moms playing peacefully with their kids that he was mine and I was not kidnapping him.
By the time we made it to the gate, some sweet lady took pity on me and offered to help me carry my things to my car. I began to cry as she reassured me that it does get easier as they get older. Now all three of us were in tears, greasy from sunscreen, hot as can be, and basically just a big mess.
I am now recovering with a giant cup of ice cream as I write this, and I think I'll go for seconds.