Also known as: In which I totally prove how NOT calm I really am.
So, today, we’re at this cafe/playspace.
Wait, let me back up.
So, this morning, Jonah wakes up screaming at 4:30 a.m. I go in, he’s soaked through his diaper, his pajamas. I take the offending items off him. The diaper weighs more than he does. He calms down, but DOES NOT GO BACK TO SLEEP. Thankyouverymuch.
He takes a nap in the car between 9 and 10. I do not nap, but instead park and yap on my cell phone.
Bad mommy.
We spend the morning in a delightful cafe and playspace of sorts (really just a corner of the cafe sectioned off by baby gates and filled with a mountain of toys) listening to / singing along with a man playing “old time songs” (think Oh Susannah, spirituals, work songs) on an acoustic guitar while his one year old and a few more years old kids run and play with the rest of us; an assortment of toddlers, nannies, moms and grandparents. Several times, the musician has to take breaks because his older child announces that he needs to go potty. For real this time? his dad asks.
Jonah was equal parts enthralled and exhausted, switching between the two modes so often that I couldn’t decide whether to leave right then in hopes of getting another nap out of him or stay in hopes of tiring him out a little more before the nap.
We stay to the end. We go home. I put him in the crib. He pulls all his stuffed animals in with him and orates for an hour. I listen from my room.
“I blah-boo. Eye blab-uh-do. I luhve yeou. I loveyou, puh-py. I loveyou, Bambeeanno.”
Cute, right? Except I am so freaking tired.
Did I nap during his “quiet time”?
Nope.
Bad mommy.
I get him up and we head out again. To another playspace / cafe because frankly, I want to see my mom friend who is going to be there, not because Jonah needs any more stimulation. (In retrospect, I was the one who probably needed a little less stimulation.)
This place is half cafe, half indoor playground, with two climbing structures, a slide, a play kitchen, a puzzle table, a train table, gym mats, various toys strewn about.
Jonah is playing peek-a-boo with a older kid who has basically crammed himself inside the faux-sink cabinet, poking his head up out of the cut-out “sink.” The kid shifts position and the cabinet door accidentally pops open with unexpected force.
The door hits Jonah smack in the face.
I’m standing about five feet away, outside of the little kitchen, which is surrounded by a four-foot faux-castle wall; trying not to hover. I watch it happen.
I’m sleep deprived. I’m afraid it’s his eye that got hit. I yell out “Oh My GAWD” — with the dramatic audible gasp that such a moment requires, and I run over, ducking through the doorway, into the little kitchen, scoop Jonah up. Of course he starts sobbing.
Staff members appear out of nowhere, offer me ice. The mother of the boy makes him apologize. He really didn’t do anything wrong. I think I told someone that but it might have been the staff member, and not the mother. I did snap at the mother’s friend when she asked me if he was okay (in a tone of voice that made it sound like she clearly didn’t believe he’d been harmed) — NO, HE IS NOT OKAY. The whole thing is a blur since I was unsure whether my kid had been blinded. I was a little irrational. I start to cry. The staff member hands me a napkin, apologizing that they don’t actually have tissues.
We all recover. Though I am still shaken. Play resumes.
A little while later, I’m walking Jonah across the room — he still demands that I hold his hands just yet. I hear a child crying in front of us, but all I see is a boy lying serenely on his belly on the floor. As we get closer to him, I KNOW the crying is coming from where he is, but it doesn’t make sense.
We’re nearly on top of him ourselves when I realize HE IS LYING ON TOP OF A SMALL CHILD. She is screaming her head off.
I’m tired, I’m raw. “Oh my goodness,” I say, perhaps a little too loudly. In that moment, I’m panicky. It’s not my kid. Do I lift him off? Shouldn’t I NOT touch him? Where are the mothers? I look around, asking “Um, SOMEBODY? Is there…”
The woman I’d snapped at earlier comes over, pulls her rather large two-year-old boy off of the fairly small 14-month-old girl.
She looks at me and offers her critique of me as a person…
(Here’s the part where I really wish I had a tape recorder because frankly I can’t remember the exact phrasing.)
…”You REALLY need to get a GRIP,” (or something to that effect). “These are TWO-YEAR-OLDS. They PLAY.”
Okay, so maybe I was overreacting. I didn’t mean to sound crazy. Really, I was just startled. I mean, it was startling. This kid, smothering another kid. Who was screaming.
And maybe I deserved it since I’d snapped at her. When she didn’t see like I did how it had looked like my kid had been blinded earlier.
I turned to her friend, now the bystander, mother from my inability to grip myself, Act I.
I’m sorry if it seems like I’m overreacting. I said. I didn’t sleep last night.
I started to cry a little. She said something reassuring-ish. I wobbled off to a different corner of the space, avoided the two women for the rest of the afternoon.
It stayed with me though. That feeling of being judged by the mom in Act II.
Maybe SHE felt judged by my outburst? Maybe her kid bullies other kids a lot and that’s why she’s sensitive? Maybe she thinks most other parents are WAY too sensitive and helicopter-y? The mother of the under-kid seemed completely unconcerned.
I need to get more sleep.
Oh, and then? And then, just for fun…
Tonight while Scott was getting Jonah ready for his bath, he picked our boy up by the waist and Jonah started shrieking hysterically and writhing in pain.
I go in to investigate (still not calm — grab the boy, yell at husband to call the pediatrician’s office).
Jonah is still screaming as we take him out of the bathroom. We notice that a rash is developing all over his torso.
A few minutes later he requests a book. I sit down with him and we read Little Miss Spider, and he calms down.
Now the rash has tiny pinpoint blisters on it.
I call the advice nurse line and am told there is a backlog of calls and it may take an hour or more for the nurse to call back.
Probably people worried about the porcine flu.
I go over all the things he ate today, wondering if it’s a food reaction. And then it dawns on me. The rash is suspiciously hand print shaped.
We decide he must be reacting to the bubble bath solution which was still on Scott’s hands when he picked him up, and therefore highly concentrated. (Even though it’s lovely hippie-esque paraben-free pthalate-free everything-nasty-free bubble bath, right? You know me by now.)
We take him into the shower to give him an extra rinse off, put him in pajamas, and practically a few minutes later, he’s deeply asleep.
The nurse calls back, I explain my suspicions/deductions. She runs through the list of questions she has to ask about rashes, agrees with me that it’s probably a reaction to the bath soap, and suggests I call the doctor tomorrow about getting him to an allergist for testing.
Wheeeeeeeeeee.
Oh, poor Mama.
It is so hard to negotiate with other mothers when our hearts are running around outside our bodies slamming into each other. Honestly, it’s harder than any boardroom I’ve ever been in.
DaMomma’s last blog post..Percocet, meet Mommy Guilt
I have been there. I hope your tomorrow is better. Just remember you are a good mom and doing what is best for your baby is the most important thing. By the way I would have had a fit over the kid on top of the other kid.
Thank you Heather!
Today IS better. His rash has cleared up and I got a full night’s sleep! Yay!
Dear one, your reaction was totally appropriate to the kid-on-kid! That toddler was a big one; and he was practically suffocating her – she was lying on top of a foam pillow. It’s a good thing you reacted when you did, ’cause the toddler’s mom really wasn’t hitting her cues. A freaky situation. I’m glad Jonah cut you a break on the sleep.
Laura’s last blog post..Noli me tangere
Yikes! I too would have grabbed the 2 year old from his perch atop the 14 month old. The nerve of her telling you to get a grip!
And allergy testing…maybe just avoid bath products and lotions, even the hippiest BPA-and-SLS-free stuff for a while.
eva’s last blog post..She’s Got Your Eyes
Mommy politics are the suckiest part of the play space, in my opinion. I think you were right to grab the big kid off the little one, but at that size, I have to wonder where both parents were.
Ren did the allergy testing. She had chronic hives. The testing was fine. I dreaded it but she hardly even noticed. She was 18 months old or so when we did it.
DaMomma’s last blog post..GUEST POST: Thank You Sir, May I Have Another?*
Okay, here’s the deal. One does not stand by whatching a child get harmed and not do something to help. Especially when real harm is imminent. Your reaction was completely reasonable. The mother of the younger child was completely “out to lunch”. As for the mother of the “bopper” she should have been down on her knees begging you to forgive her child and offering to help with medical expenses if needed.
I wish I could take credit for getting the big kid up but it all happened pretty fast. I sounded the alarm and the moms came running. They were out of view, out-to/having lunch in the separate cafe part.
It is mind-boggling to me that they could be so laisez-faire with such little ones. This particular play place has a very strange vibe because of the cafe. Other play places, the parents seem to be more present with the kids.
Liz, I’m glad to hear about Ren’s experience, that it isn’t so bad. Jonah is a sensitive little guy when it comes to lotions and potions and soaps.
I’m glad you had a good nights sleep–it’s amazing how much better you can feel when you’re fully rested!
Your post really resonated with me. It’s hard to not freak out when your kiddo gets hurt by another child. Especially when the other parents are too busy to notice what’s going on.
I came to the decision recently that it’s okay to step in and correct another child’s behavior or stop a dangerous situation when needed.
I’m usually the hover type, but lately I’ve been trying to step back and let my daughter be a bit more independent. So far so good. No injuries yet
If I was to look away for a moment I hope that someone would step in and help my daughter if another child was hurting her and I especially hope that someone would step in and correct her behavior if she was doing something she shouldn’t be doing. (she’s a big thrower these days–beware the wooden blocks little friends!!)
Thanks again for another good and relevant post!!
Susie’s last blog post..Yes, I’m finally posting something new!
You weren’t yelling AT anyone, I wouldn’t question your being upset at children being hurt. These are little guys and letting them be rough with each other is wrong. Even exhausted and frazzled your instincts were right.
damomma summed it up perfectly: our hearts running around outside our bodies slamming into each other.
so beautifully said.
in the second scenario, i’m wondering where the mother of the 14 month old was that she had to be alerted? i mean, yes, kids will be kids, that’s why that age range should be watched like a hawk when in a public playspace. toddlers are untrustworthy when it comes to knowing the proper boundaries and playing by the rules (and i mean that in the best way!)
as far as other mommies go, there will always be women who feel superior, judgmental, untouchable. there will always be women who don’t seem fit for the job. and there will always be “us” here to listen and commiserate and share our stories so that we can bridge the gap.
now GO GET SOME SLEEP!
krista’s last blog post..monkey love
I need to get a grip several times a day. Show me a mom who doesn’t need to get a grip and I’ll show you a mom with 24 hour a day childcare, a housekeeper, and a cook.
When it comes to moms in public distress some people (parents as well as childfree civilians) seem driven to be right rather than to be kind.
I know it’s hard to behave “correctly” in the middle of a toddler storm, but let’s try to nice to each other!
Jane Huber’s last blog post..Rainbow disconnection
I remember shrieking when my kid walked in front of a swing – way too close to those feet pumping. The whole playground turned around and looked at me (it felt like, in fact maybe not EVERYBODY). But you know, I thought my kid was going to get kicked in the head.
Another day, the same playground, I saw another mommy being loud and energetic and very… vocal, and I thought to myself – oh yeah, she’s from the East Coast. I am from the East Coast. Maybe it’s an East Coast thing. Because she didn’t look nuts to me, she just looked normal. New Yorky. No that’s not code for Jewish, she struck me as Italian but I could be wrong. New York for sure, and compared to all the other supposedly calm mamas, histrionic. Big deal. I liked her and felt relieved she was around. I could relate.
I don’t know how this explains you, darling, except that people from L.A. who are my friends strike me as very up front and loud with their reactions. That’s why they are my friends.
Maybe Bay ARea types are too sedated? Anyway. Get more sleep, but yes, it sounds like their problem.
Leila Abu-Saba’s last blog post..Citrus Salsa
Sedated and controlling about other people’s behavior. Icky combination. I know some Southerners like that. It’s awful. Shudder.
Leila Abu-Saba’s last blog post..Citrus Salsa