If you know my sweet daughter you know that her twos were not terrible at all. However when it came time for her to turn three, it seemed that all the stars mis-aligned and catastrophe decided to strike.
Andrew and I had discussed Rori’s birthday breakfast, and decided that pancakes were in order. However, we both came to the conversation saying, “I was thinking about what I would make for Rori’s birthday breakfast.” So we both left the conversation thinking the other person would be making breakfast. The day started with Andrew waking me up to say goodbye and both of us feeling sad and confused that the other one hadn’t made breakfast. Andrew realized he could stay a bit longer and he and Rori made pancakes while I got dressed, so it all worked out.
Every Thursday I take the kids to Hill Country Bible Church for a Biblical Womanhood class. I braided Rori’s hair, and we all got ready. I misremembered what time it started (even though I go every week), the end result being that even though I spent all morning thinking we were running half an hour late we actually arrived right on time. Rori had been at Hill Country on Monday night and taken a pretty bad tumble in the play area, resulting in a busted lip and lots of ice and tears.
On our way to church Thursday morning, Rori started saying that she didn’t want to go. I tried to remind her about all the fun things she’d be doing but it didn’t help. When it came time to drop her off it was the worst drop off we’ve EVER had. I took 30 minutes of her her sobbing and clinging to me, before one of the brilliant childcare workers asked Rori if she would help her go blow up some birthday balloons. So thirty minutes late, turned into right on time, turned into thirty minutes late.
After Bible study finished, we had some errands to run, so I thought it would be a fun birthday treat to go to chick-fil-a for lunch and spend some time playing. Everything started out so well. I got a table right next to the glass partition that separated the play area, so that I could sit with Milo, who was asleep in his stroller and watch Rori play. She finished eating her lunch and went to go play while I sat and finished mine. She climbed to the top of the equipment and was ready to go down the slide when I saw an older girl (she looked about 5) start hitting Rori over and over again on her head. Rori tried to push her away and the older girl shoved back; all of this happened at the very top of the play area. So I’m at the door trying to keep an eye on Milo and my purse while yelling at the girl to stop and trying to verbally coax Rori down the play equipment. An employee stood by my table for me so I could go help Rori. I don’t need to tell you that I was furious! I had a huge adrenaline rush and I was holding my sobbing daughter while asking every parent I could see if that girl in the polk-a-dots was their daughter. Finally the girl came down and I started asking her where her mom was. She just stood there and pointed vaguely out the door. Finally her mother showed up (she’d been on the other side of the restaurant) and removed her daughter from the playground. All the other parents were shocked and said they’d never seen anything like that happen before. I talked to a dad who’d been sitting in the play area for awhile and he said the girl had been bullying and pushing several other children as well. I guess Rori was just the first one to fight back.
I held her for awhile, and once she calmed down, we all went into the play area and she went down the slide a few more times. My brave girl! Now it was time to run errands. Rori loves shopping and she’d outgrown her tennis shoes, which are a bit of a necessity. So we went to Kid to Kid (a resale shop) to see if we could find some. I was also looking for a lightweight jacket since she’s outgrown that as well, and had no luck finding either item. While I was shopping Rori ran up needing to use the potty. We went to the bathroom and then continued to shop. Milo was getting a little restless but as long as I held him from time to time he was fine. Then all the sudden Rori came awkwardly running towards me with pure distress on her face. She needed to poop. Scratch that, she had pooped. I hadn’t brought in the diaper bag, so I had no wet wipes, and it’s been such a long time since Rori had any kind of accident that I’ve stopped carrying around spare clothes. I had to throw away her panties, and I was so thankful that she’d worn thick cotton tights that day. We ended up with her clinging to me precariously while I washed her naked bottom in the sink to try to get her clean. Milo added his own distraught soundtrack to this entire adventure. I emerged from the bathroom feeling as though I had earned some kind of invisible mothering merit badge.
After all this I was so ready to go home, but we still needed to stop by the grocery store to pick up Rori’s birthday cake. This turned out to be the smoothest part of the day. Milo was content to be carried around in the baby bjorn, and although Rori did not want to ride in the cart, she managed to cooperate without much protestation.
The cake that I was expecting to cost 11 dollars only cost 7. We picked up milk and pink icecream, and a bottle of wine from Cupcake Vineyards. Because if any day every deserved a glass of wine at the end of it, this was that day. Both kids fell asleep in the car on the way home, and Andrew called just as we pulled into the driveway. So I was able to give him a full account of our somewhat traumatizing day. He listened with great sympathy, and told me later that he’d had a hard time not laughing when I got to the part about the poop.
We all came inside and once Milo fell back asleep, we all rested till Andrew got home from work. Andrew helped me get the macaroni and cheese on the table. And we all had a nice dinner. Followed by cake and icecream, birthday cards, and new tennis shoes that Andrew picked up for Rori on his way home from work.
Things seemed to be taking a turn for the better, but as I finished my dessert I began to feel distinctly queasy. I went to lay down and as Andrew gave Rori her bath my condition worsened. By the time Rori was in bed I had lost my dinner, and a few hours later I had lost everything else. I had terrible vomiting and diarrhea from around 9 o’clock at night till 3 in the morning. I somehow managed to nurse the baby in the middle of it and wound up feeling extremely dehydrated. We started worrying that we would need to go to the hospital to get some more fluid in me. I wanted to gulp down every glass of water I saw but I had to sip it as slowly as possible for any of it to stay down.
Andrew stayed home from work the next day so that I could rest, and I didn’t get out of bed all day. We had to miss Rori’s birthday trip to the zoo on Saturday, but hopefully we’ll be able to make that up soon. I was able to start eating and feeling better on Saturday and felt fine for Rori’s birthday party on Sunday. (Andrew and friends did almost all the food preparation, and when I did touch anything I washed my hands obsessively just to be safe)
I decided that the day was a long lesson in self-control; to patiently wait while Rori re-acclimatized to her class; to not throttle the budding bully who’d attacked my daughter; to not break down and cry during the crappy clothing store incident; and to sip the water I desperately wanted to gulp.
While I appreciate the lesson, I’m already hoping and praying that Rori can turn 4 with a little less ado.
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straight meandering 
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