Full Disclosure

In the age of Facebook and Twitter, it occurred to me that a lot of moms only share the wonderful things about their kids with the world. I mean, let's face it, nobody wants to talk about the days when your offspring climbs up on your last nerve and proceeds to bounce up and down. Or the days that they say something and you respond with, "I brought you into this world and I will take you out! And it doesn't matter to us - we'll make another one that looks just like you!"

In the interest of full disclosure, I have to say that I know people whose portrayal of themselves and their kids online couldn't possibly be any further from the truth. Let it never be said that I didn't share the good, the bad, and the ugly about me and my kids. Sorry girls, it's for the greater good. There's enough nastiness out there, and people need to laugh. If sharing our stories lets just one mom know that she's not alone in her misery blissful motherhood experience, then I feel like I have done something for the greater good.

For some strange reason, people are under the impression that my kids are sweet all the time (yes, even people who have actually seen them in person.) Allow me to rain on your parade. Not long ago, I took my girls to Chick-fil-A to play on the playground. I mean, let's be honest. They don't go there to eat. They agree to let me order a kid's meal so that they can get the toy (because we all know they don't have any) and then consume about a fourth of it. Basically, they sit there and pick at their food until I declare that they have eaten enough and can go to the playground.

In my mind, I was going to use the time they spent playing to get some work done on my computer. In reality, I spent my time shuttling them back and forth to the bathroom and helping them put on and take off shoes. This particular day was a little unusual in that we had somewhere to be. My sister-in-law was being honored at a retirement reception, and we were headed straight there when we left the restaurant.

Having been a mother for several years now, I am very familiar with the different types of playground equipment. The type at Chick-fil-A just so happens to be the kind I loathe. It was obviously designed by a man, as it is the kind that your children climb into and then are out of your reach. They come out when and if they want to, and unless you are, in fact the same size as another child, you can't go in there to get them. No woman in her right mind would have designed something so stupid. Keep that in mind, as it is about to become an integral part of this story.

All good things must come to an end, and our trip to the playground was no different. When I announced that it was time to leave, my big girls did their usual whining and eye rolling, which I'm used to by now. And then the baby decided to test her boundaries a bit.

My youngest child refused to come out of the playground equipment. In the beginning, she was afraid to slide down the slide, which was the logical choice for getting down from her perch near the ceiling. She was also afraid to come down the steps backwards, which would have been required for her to get down. And thus began one of the most epic battles of will since I became a parent.
Okay, so she was afraid. Poor kid. I really did feel bad for her at first. So I tried to coax her out. I used my softest, mommy-will-make-it-all-better voice. No luck. If anything, she cried louder.

I then proceeded to employ every weapon in the mother's arsenal. I begged. I pleaded. I attempted to bribe. I threatened. Taking a deep breath, and in my very best mom voice, I ordered her to come down. Naturally, since I really neeeeded to lose my temper, there were other kids in the room. I became acutely aware that the parents watching through the window from inside the restaurant were keeping tabs on what was going on. Excellent.
At least half a dozen times, the baby started to back down the stairs. She would get to where she was about six inches out of my reach and then stop. All I could think was, "If I get my hands on you, I'm gonna..." And then she would move back up and cry some more.
Thinking that perhaps it was time to get creative, I decided that maybe if I threatened to leave her in there, she would come out. Like all good plans, this backfired royally, and I ended up with three wailing kids instead of one. "Mom! You can't leave her here! Please don't leave her here! We love her!" My older kids were borderline hysterical. Now the super parents were really paying attention. Three screaming kids gets you even more smug looks than one.
Taking a deep breath, I took off my shoes. My older kids both bent over and covered their eyes, looking like two turtles. Awesome, guys. Could you make me look any worse? As I was wearing a dress (of course) I couldn't help but wonder how many people watching the saga unfold were going to see my ass when I climbed up inside this stupid piece of playground equipment. I leaned over and then thought to myself, "Oh, hell no! I am NOT climbing up there to get her. She is coming out, and that's that."
After what seemed like at least an hour of listening to my kid scream, "It's NOT time to go! I don't want to leave! I want to drive that little car!" I finally called for backup. I psyched up my older kids and gave them their marching orders. "Go in there and get her! Drag her out if you have to, but get her down!"
And so, my six year old went in, grabbed her sister, narrowly avoided several kicks and punches, and at last drug out my wailing, screeching two year old. I cannot possibly convey how much self control it took for me not to cause my daughter serious bodily harm in that moment. All I could think was, there may be a social worker in here. Keep it together, Mama!
Arriving at my car, my child finally got the tune up she so desperately needed. I feel sure she got more than some parents would have given her and less than others would have given her. But she apparently got enough, because now every single time we drive by that place, Sheridan yells, "Hey Mom! That's where I got in trouble!" Yes, yes it is.