So, there it is. The last inanimate object to get the better of me, kick my booty, the latest thorn in my side -whatever you want to call it.
Last week I took my boys to the park. Conner is three years and Parker is 19 months old. They are two little boys who love to play outside, to run, and swing, and slide and.....that's where the trouble started.
Conner ran up to the top of the slide and yelled, "Hey guys!!" And what does little bro Parker want to do? Anything Conner's doing. When Conner was 19mo old, it wasn't an issue. He would have gone up there and come down the slide. But with Parker it's not that easy.
See I have this problem called "I can only be in one place at the time" I can't be at the top of the slide and the bottom of the slide at the same time. There was noone at the park that could help us and Parker really wanted to go down the slide like Conner.
My brilliant plan: I got Conner to sit at the bottom of the slide so Parker wouldn't fall off when he got down there. It seemed like a good plan at the time. Parker needed me to put him on the slide and send him down, but he also needed someone to catch him. I knew Conner couldn't catch him, but I thought if he was sitting on the slide he could at least block him from falling off.
I know, I know, most of you parents are trying to protect your children and get them OFF the bottom of the slide so they don't get hurt. I applaude you.
So anyway, my plan went over like a lead balloon. The trip down was fun, but the chaos at the bottom was...chaotic! Oh sure, Parker plowed right into Conner according to plan. But instead of stopping he flipped upside down and fell on his head in the sand. He was devastated. I had a particularly bad mommy moment and for some reason decided to blame Conner. I said, "Conner! you were supposed to catch him!" Bad, bad, bad. What the heck? It was my lame brained plan that didn't work. Of course the three year old couldn't catch someone that weighs almost as much as he does. Conner felt bad which made me feel twice as bad since I knew it was my fault to begin with.
So, then I went down and retrieved my screaming one year old and apologized to my wrongly accused three year old. I sat down on the sand with my children and fought off the feelings that I am a terrible mother and that we will never be able to function like a normal family at the park. How dramatic. One fall off the slide + existing concerns about Parker = hopelessness. Good grief.
Somehow they both forgave me! Maybe Parker won't have a lifelong fear of slides! I'm going to need a better plan for next time, so if anyone has any suggestions, I'm open!