Kicking and Screaming

Sometimes I have these surreal experiences. They are really almost like out of body experiences. I'm standing outside of myself watching the situation unfold before me. I had one of those today. I had the bright idea that I'd take John Owen to Lexington to be fitted for the suit he's going to wear as ringbearer in a friend's wedding. Of course I did all the right things beforehand. I had a precious conversation with my little angel about what was expected of him and how he should act and how I understood that he might be nervous  or even a little afraid of some strange person taking his measurements, but this was something that we needed to do.
 I even offered a great "incentive"/"bribe" for good behavior. We'd passed a cupcake store that was right next to a Starbucks and I felt I'd won the lottery. I envisioned this great mother/son date (you those things I read about happening in other people's blogs, but have never really experienced in the same way in my own life) where we shared a gourmet cupcake and I sipped a white chocolate mocha and we giggled about toddler things. I felt great about it all. I thought, "We've got this in the bag. Yay me!"
What a gross understatement! All was well as we entered the store and asked the sweet, young gal to take his measurements until she whipped out the measuring tape and tried to touch him. He recoiled like she had poked him with a red-hot fire poker! Honestly, I wish I was exaggerating and this was all a bad, bad dream, but I'm not! He began to pull away from me and scream. Yes, you read that correctly. Not whine (which would be preferable to screaming) or even use the LARGE vocabulary that he has and uses EVERY HOUR OF EVERY DAY WHEN WE ARE AT HOME. He just screams.
I spoke quietly to him telling him to stop pitching a fit and to calm down. "Everything will be fine, sweet grasshopper!" This is where I stepped outside of myself because deep inside I wanted to melt into the floor like the Wicked Witch from the Wizard of Oz.
Well, a trip to the bathroom for more "talking", a bathroom that isn't really for the public, but is instead in the very back of the store and my sweet angel was ready to have his measurements taken. He even managed a smile---something I couldn't muster up until we made it all the way back to our house.
Needless to say, no body got a cupcake (I was probably more sad about this than John Owen) and the ride home was not fun.
It's times like this that I wish I could just forget the consequence and get the cupcake, but I just can't give up on training my kids yet. I've seen those parents. The ones who would show up for parent/teacher conferences and either A) sleep during it or B) tell me it's not their problem.
I've experienced those kids whose parents gave up back in kindergarten when Little Bobby wouldn't stop pulling Sally's hair or they checked out around middle school when puberty hit their house like a locomotive.
No. I've got to stay tuned in and do the tough stuff, but I TOTALLY understand the desire to just let the boys act like a bunch of hoodlums, eat suckers for lunch and dinner and never take baths. Sometimes I wish Goldfish did constitute as a vegetable and ice cream as a good dairy choice. Sometimes I wish it didn't matter how late they stayed up or if they were respectful or kind.
But only sometimes...It does matter and I'll just keep on keeping on and though I always feel like I'm on a island alone when my kid misbehaves in public, I know there are others out there. Those other mothers who know what I'm talking about, who've been in that store or at the restaurant when the three year old refuses to act like he/she has any sense and you feel like you've been stripped naked and everyone can see all your parenting failures. Yep, that's how I feel sometimes. Like today the gal in the suit store with her thin body and blonde bangs that she kept flipping out of her eyes knew I'm not really good at this "mom-thing".
To everyone else out there on the same island as me---Carry on! I believe in you and know that you're putting in the hours and the time and that sometimes kids just do what they want!
We should get together and have a cupcake...or two.