So wrong in so many ways.
It's been a tough day. Too much time, too little structure. I'm worn out and worn down and worn in. Like an old shoe.
The kids bickered constantly. When they weren't bickering, they were asking for stuff. They want Legos and ice cream and popsicles and plastic ponies. They want toys and more toys. I pointed out that they already have lots of toys. Lots of toys they don't even play with. We made a plan to sort these toys and send some to live with other children. But the sorting didn't go that well. Even a kid without any toys isn't going to want the sad and broken assortment my kids were willing to pass on. Unless that kid was planning on building his own version of Watts Towers, I'm afraid the three stray marbles, broken plastic dinosaur, tangle of beads on lanyard, head of Batman and a few mishapen plastic cowboys aren't going to be that useful.
So, I got overwhelmed by all the trash we have accumulated under the guise of entertaining the kids. Educational or not, it all turns into a big mismatched hodgepodge mess. Oh, Melissa and Doug, you purveyors of wholesome wooden toys, damn you.
At any rate, when things got tough, I snapped the leash on the dog and led the troops on a walk. Our first trek took us to the Griffith Park pony rides and then second, much longer walk ended at the new frozen yogurt store. (Yes, I am not all evil parent.)
At the frozen yogurt store, the kids filled cups with crazy flavored yogurt (red velvet?!) and piled candy on top. Marshmallows, frosted animal crackers, gummy bears and sprinkles. As they spooned their way through this sweetness, my son thought he tasted peanut. He's allergic to nuts of all kinds and peanuts especially (though they aren't a tree nut.) His face went white and I tried to maintain my cool.
"How do you feel?" I asked.
"I feel like something is weird," he said.
He wheezed a little and my heart felt a little smashed.
We tossed the yogurt and started our walk home. I'd left my cell phone on the kitchen counter and I had only a few dollars in my pocket and my kid had possibly eaten a nut. For the millionth time today, I wondered what the heck kind of mom I was.
"Are you sick or are you worried?" I asked.
"More worried," he said.
"I'm here," I said. "It's okay."
And it was. We got home. He took some Benedryl as a precaution. He felt better.
I'm crazy about him. I'm crazy about both of my kids.
I think I was the one behaving like an idiot.