Balancing Wells on my hip, I ordered a pumpkin spice latte with steamed coconut milk at a new local cafe. I also added a cup of coconut milk to our order for Wells. I knew I needed to distract him from wanting to running around the marina dock outside the shop. He was already getting wiggly in my arms, because I blasted through ten minutes of chatting with a friend before stepping up to the counter. Wells loves coconut milk and I knew it could help distract him from wanting to escape. This new cafe, Scoops and Brew, serves brewed coffee, lattes, espresso, gelato, and ice cream. It is located in the Crown Bay marina and is open air with no doors. I was hoping to keep Wells on my hip while I ordered and paid, at the very least.
I think somewhere in my brain I had a magical thought of bringing our drinks outside. Sipping together, as we pointed out at boats that are coming, going, or already docked.
Wells was loving drinking out of a big boy cup while I stepped aside to wait to be able to pay. I the cup down for a split second to reach deep into my pocket for the twenty I had stuffed. This is when Wells started slapping me in the face repeatedly.
'Wells, hold on'.
'Wells, do not hit me.'
'Okay, okay! Here is your milk.'
I try to keep my composer, but I am sweating and freaking out a little bit. Who is this kid on my hip!? And, please please please... settle down. I go to give him another sip and he hits the cup and milk splashes all over my freshly washed hair and down my shirt. OMG! I'm struggling to pay, balancing this crazed kid, sheepishly grabbing my hot latte, and pray he doesn't do anything else absurd.
I made it to the car and strapped him into his car seat and sat in the drivers seat shocked by his tantrum. If I knew this was just the tip of the weekend that was awaiting me, I probably would have just started to cry right there. Little did I know, we had two other major meltdowns that left me feeling hopeless and totally wrecked my faith in my mothering ability.
On Sunday, I felt like a horrible mom and conversationalist as we were sitting with new friends at brunch. I was just trying to keep Wells from flipping out shoving food in his mouth as much as I possibly could. Laying in bed Sunday night, I replayed conversations and each time I had to leave it to tend to Wells. Some sentences were picked up right were we left off and others fell in order to manage Wells. I could remember exactly what each interrupted story was about.
I was still in shock and a little perturbed on Monday night.
Break.
I wrote everything above yesterday. I still felt like 'what are we doing' right or wrong or 'is this our new normal'.
As I was cooking dinner last night our gas ran out and burners went off. Our dinner was par-cooked making it inedible. So, we went out to eat last night. I was grabbing all that I could - a book, snacks, and should I just leave my sanity at the house instead of losing it when Wells is a monster at dinner.
Then, he was the most peaceful child. He went right into the high chair with no wiggles. He calmly sat there. He read. He drank sips of water. He let us talk. He let us eat. He ate. He was still for one and a half hours.
I needed that.
We have not lost all hope.
Now if I can survive the rest of his toddler years with my meals in tact.
Lessons learned.
When tot is ready for a nap is not a good time to spring for a coffee date, duh!
If my tot has not had time to run or do an activity to get some of his energy and wiggles out, do not tempt to dine in peace.
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