Disappointment

That's what my kids learned yesterday. Disappointment. Fun was had by all.

So, during coffee hour at church, all the kids went outside to play. When I say "all the kids," I refer to everyone but Nora and William; that is to say, "the big kids." So when Nora wants to go outside to play with the people she likes to call her "friends," I realize I should probably feel sorry for all of us. I feel sorry for Nora's friends because they don't really want a 3-year-old hampering their playtime, me because the "friends" aren't going to babysit and therefore I have to, and Nora, of course, because she's so sweet and genuinely believes that the big kids want to play with her, and her evil mommy is preventing it. Alas. Long story short, it ended up in a whole lot of kicking, screaming, and wrestling so she didn't hurt anyone, including herself.

Then we got home, kids crashed, and George and I fought long and hard about the proper way to wrestle a screaming child.

So once we got all that worked out, I grabbed my purse to run out the door for some chicken for dinner, and Nora ran after me, desperate to go with. Why, I'll never know. But it was very important that this be a 20-minute trip, so I had to go without her. I told her I loved her, and as I left, George held her back while she screamed, "I DON'T LOVE YOU!" I know this is probably strange and even inappropriate, but I felt heartbroken until I heard her say that. And then, hiding my face so she couldn't see me, I actually laughed. Someday those words are going to hurt, because she's really going to think she means them. Yesterday, it was simple rebellion in the only way she knew how to do it: contradict everything I said. Ah, well.

So we got them fed and decided, man. It's been a disappointing day for poor Nora; let's take the kids to the playground after dinner. So we got 'em outside, started strapping William into his favorite device in the known world: the stroller. He was half-strapped in when we heard the thunder. We thought, hm. Stroller + walking = bad idea. Let's get 'em in the car. As it turns out, William half-committed to his favorite activity in the world + taking that away = complete meltdown. Oh man. It was bad. He cried the whole way to the playground. I kept telling him, it's okay, buddy. We're going to the swings (his second favorite activity in the world). We won't be able to stay long, but we'll get a little swinging in, okay?

So we get there, and no rain yet. We bust it over to the swings. Now, "busting it" is a little different for an almost-two-year-old. Just a little slower. But, for him, you know, he was really moving. Made a total beeline. So, he puts his hand on that swing and....

Whoosh!

The rain came. Not gradually. All at once. Like a wall.

So...back to the car. Poor William. Poor Nora. They were both very, very disappointed. And so we went out for ice cream. You can't go wrong with ice cream, right? Turns out, you can.

You eventually eat it all.