Irritating episode: Snippets from my life.
Here I am 39 weeks pregnant. The dog desperately needs a walk. The toddler is in my care, and the partner is at work on this lovely weekend evening.
So lets go to the dog park before we go have dinner with the partner; Off we go. Except that the parking lot at the dog park is full. We drive around for 5 minutes just to confirm that it is totally full. People parking all over illegal spots, fire zone spots, accesible spots, non spot -spots. So I head to the south lot. Park and start walking to the dog park. It should be good for us. A walk that is. Part of me is pretending I don't care that this parking lot is on the total other side of the giant park that houses the dog park.
Except the dog's good collar is broken: the one that makes her actually obey. So she is pulling: pulling my pregnant self with her 60 pound self. It's 75 degrees and I am overdressed and sweaty, and the toddler is desperate to hold my hand which sounds cute but I'm hot...and hungry...and my bladder feels full but it's not.
So we pass the children's playground on the way to the dog park: the almost totally concrete children's playground which to me looks like a death trap. And magically I negotiate with the toddler that we will take the dog to her park and then she can go her kid park.
We finally get to the dog park after the long slow putz filled walk of a toddler and after several people hear me yelling at the dog and are probably wishing they had PETA in their cell phones. We get her into the dog park and she runs right for the water. Not the water bowl or a hose I am talking a giant lake. In the water, she cannot retreive. She only swims out to the sticks and the balls and brings them 5 feet from shore and drops them. For twenty minutes we let her chase other dog's balls and sticks and toys and not bring them back. Finally I claim my dog. But only after much much pleading while she cannot discipher my voice from the delight of sticks and balls.
We put her back on the leash. She isn't tired. She is still wound up. But I promised my toddler time at the death trap kid park. This is the toddler who now has sand in her shoes from the sandy mess of a dog park. This is the toddler who sits down on the grass to empty her shoes but who cannot get them back on. So her 39 week pregnant mother must bend over to help her get her shoes back on. I cannot decide if passing out is a fantasy or a fear.
Off to the kids playground. The concrete fortress of doom is looking bad. But the 7 year old who keeps nailing people with the frisbee is really what is pissing me off. Yup, I got nailed: twice: as if destiny is reminding me of my size. Did he get reprimanded? no. In fact, who does he belong to? The dog is whining all wet and tied up. The toddler is playing. I am sitting. Phew.
Except that I know we are already 30 minutes late to meet the partner for dinner. Where is my phone? Oh, back in the car. We play for awhile. Yuppies all around us complain about their microsoft jobs and the men in the couples talk to the men and the women to the women and all around me the kids cause chaos. And I don't fit in on this yuppy concrete island.
I convince the toddler that we need to go eat dinner with her Papa. I tell her that her Papa will bring her to a park tomarrow. She's convinced. Let me say that again because that might be the miracle of the entire afternoon. She was convinced! No meltdown upon leaving the concrete fortress of doom. We continue our walk. But this, of course must involve a collection of sticks. A slow, slow, slow meander with a wet (and still annoying) dog pulling me along.
Toddler wants to hold my hand. I want her to walk faster. I tell her if she can catch my she can hold it. We walk halfway back with this game. Me walking fast and waving my hand. Her running along. Phew it works. Until we see more sticks...
I tell her, "I am frustrated. It isn't your fault. But Mama is really frustrated."
She stops. "God, help mama not be mad and frustrated tomarrow."
"What are you talking about?" I question.
"I praying for you."
I melt a little bit (in a good way) and said "yes. I am frustrated right now and hopefully I won't be tomorrow. Lets get going."
I am kind of secretly happy the my child didn't ask for immediate answer for her prayer. Her theology is so sound! Tomarrow...yes lets pray for tomarrow not for this moment right now which is what it is.
So we pick up a couple more sticks. Toddler takes a fall but mostly she is looking for an excuse to cry. I am too...perhaps I should run along and fall on my knee and cry. Maybe that would induce labor. That would be great.
I am so done with this dog. So done with not being able to pick up my toddler. And when I get to the car partner has called 4 times in the past 15 minutes.
Off to dinner.
This adventure is over.
It was over before it started.
So lets go to the dog park before we go have dinner with the partner; Off we go. Except that the parking lot at the dog park is full. We drive around for 5 minutes just to confirm that it is totally full. People parking all over illegal spots, fire zone spots, accesible spots, non spot -spots. So I head to the south lot. Park and start walking to the dog park. It should be good for us. A walk that is. Part of me is pretending I don't care that this parking lot is on the total other side of the giant park that houses the dog park.
Except the dog's good collar is broken: the one that makes her actually obey. So she is pulling: pulling my pregnant self with her 60 pound self. It's 75 degrees and I am overdressed and sweaty, and the toddler is desperate to hold my hand which sounds cute but I'm hot...and hungry...and my bladder feels full but it's not.
So we pass the children's playground on the way to the dog park: the almost totally concrete children's playground which to me looks like a death trap. And magically I negotiate with the toddler that we will take the dog to her park and then she can go her kid park.
We finally get to the dog park after the long slow putz filled walk of a toddler and after several people hear me yelling at the dog and are probably wishing they had PETA in their cell phones. We get her into the dog park and she runs right for the water. Not the water bowl or a hose I am talking a giant lake. In the water, she cannot retreive. She only swims out to the sticks and the balls and brings them 5 feet from shore and drops them. For twenty minutes we let her chase other dog's balls and sticks and toys and not bring them back. Finally I claim my dog. But only after much much pleading while she cannot discipher my voice from the delight of sticks and balls.
We put her back on the leash. She isn't tired. She is still wound up. But I promised my toddler time at the death trap kid park. This is the toddler who now has sand in her shoes from the sandy mess of a dog park. This is the toddler who sits down on the grass to empty her shoes but who cannot get them back on. So her 39 week pregnant mother must bend over to help her get her shoes back on. I cannot decide if passing out is a fantasy or a fear.
Except that I know we are already 30 minutes late to meet the partner for dinner. Where is my phone? Oh, back in the car. We play for awhile. Yuppies all around us complain about their microsoft jobs and the men in the couples talk to the men and the women to the women and all around me the kids cause chaos. And I don't fit in on this yuppy concrete island.
I convince the toddler that we need to go eat dinner with her Papa. I tell her that her Papa will bring her to a park tomarrow. She's convinced. Let me say that again because that might be the miracle of the entire afternoon. She was convinced! No meltdown upon leaving the concrete fortress of doom. We continue our walk. But this, of course must involve a collection of sticks. A slow, slow, slow meander with a wet (and still annoying) dog pulling me along.
Toddler wants to hold my hand. I want her to walk faster. I tell her if she can catch my she can hold it. We walk halfway back with this game. Me walking fast and waving my hand. Her running along. Phew it works. Until we see more sticks...
I tell her, "I am frustrated. It isn't your fault. But Mama is really frustrated."
She stops. "God, help mama not be mad and frustrated tomarrow."
"What are you talking about?" I question.
"I praying for you."
I melt a little bit (in a good way) and said "yes. I am frustrated right now and hopefully I won't be tomorrow. Lets get going."
I am kind of secretly happy the my child didn't ask for immediate answer for her prayer. Her theology is so sound! Tomarrow...yes lets pray for tomarrow not for this moment right now which is what it is.
So we pick up a couple more sticks. Toddler takes a fall but mostly she is looking for an excuse to cry. I am too...perhaps I should run along and fall on my knee and cry. Maybe that would induce labor. That would be great.
I am so done with this dog. So done with not being able to pick up my toddler. And when I get to the car partner has called 4 times in the past 15 minutes.
Off to dinner.
This adventure is over.
It was over before it started.
I don't really have a comment for this, except that when I read it I could feel it. Thanks for posting such real life stuff with real life emotions and frustrations. I guess I'd comment more about my real life frustrations, but it's after 1 in the morning so I should probably go to bed.
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