foaming at the mouth and humility

it was a humbling experience leaving the mall play area today. these moments just spring right out of thin air.

lily turned psychotic.  she didn't want to put her jacket on.

please picture me sitting on the floor. the floor of the mall. not even the floor of the play area. i am wrestling a screaming two-year-old into a cute striped pink jacket.

i believe she is foaming at the mouth.

i'm losing the battle while mall walkers breeze past me in their sketchers toning shoes and fanny packs. an old man sits on a bench nearby and i can feel him watching this whole scenario unfold before him. he no doubt is smiling. i know because i see him smiling. i smiled too. it was either laugh or cry. i chose laugh. there was already enough crying.

finally i give up on the jacket. you know, choose your battles right? yeah, that shipped had sailed. i decided to force the precious, screaming, foaming-mouthed child into the stroller. this would be the very stroller that was already soaking wet with water from the mcdonald's cup i gave to lily before we hit up the play area. the cup with the ill-fitting lid.

lily is not going into the stroller. just a reminder, i am still on the floor, the middle of the floor in the mall. this child has an amazing ability to perform something that can only be described as "live rigamortis".  there is to be no bending of the child's body. forget it. live rigamortis, screaming, and foaming at the mouth. and snot everywhere.

and the screaming is  that kind of low-growl screaming. kind of possessed-like.

eventually, after what seems like ten laps of the same mall walker passing, i somehow manage to buckle the stroller seat belt and then lean the stroller back so my precious princess can't hang forward to the ground. we head towards the food court area where all the old folks are having their pre-mall walking coffee and morning chit-chat.

they greet me with smiles and stares. as we approach the exit door a nice older man asks if he can get the door for me. i tell him through my best fake smile that would be great!

and then on the way out the door another older woman smiles a very understanding smile at me and says "we've all been there before!" i actually find these comments very, very comforting. so comforting in fact that i am tempted to climb in this woman's lap, curl up in the fetal position, suck my thumb, and sob "hold me!"

i resist the very strong urge to do this and quickly proceed to the minivan and spend the next 10 minutes attempting to fold little miss live rigamortis into her car seat.

eventually we make it home, completely humbled, clean up foam faces, snot from noses, have lunch, and take a well earned nap. the end.