The library seems like a perfect place to take kids. The walls of colorfully illustrated books, train tables, puppet theater and children’s computers give you a thrill of excitement as you set out to explore with your little ones. You envision peaceful moments tucked away in some quiet nook, your child cuddled close on your lap, reading last year’s Caldecott Award winner and suppressing soft giggles.
You might discover, however, "booking it" means something entirely different to your child. Depending on their age and disposition, he or she may look past the puppet theater in favor of the long, open aisles. They will be faster than you, and you’ll find yourself hoping they trip and fall so you have a prayer of catching them. When you finally wrangle them onto your lap in an overstuffed armchair, insistent upon enriching their minds, they’ll writhe and wriggle like a fish on a hook, then tear the borrowed book as they break free. They’ll push another child as they run from you, then scream, flail, and finally go boneless as you drag them away.
Your older child will whine about your abrupt departure, and drag their feet. As you round a corner ahead of them, they'll start panicking, believing you have finally made good on the "Okay, see ya later!" exit threat you've used too many times before. Now with two children crying, you make it to the door and in your haste, hit the handicap button with your elbow. Bad move. The children erupt with fresh wails: "BUT I WANTED TO PUSH THE BUTTON!!!!"
You make it to the car and find children strapped to chairs never felt so right. Taking a deep breath, you think of all the alcoholic mothers out there and for a moment, completely understand.
It all might not be such a crushing experience if it wasn't your primary goal of every day to teach these kids how to be good. Subtle signs indicate you are failing. But they'll get bigger, you'll keep trying, and they'll learn in time. At least, that's what you tell yourself. One of these days, we will check out books without contemplating checking in to an institution.
It all might not be such a crushing experience if it wasn't your primary goal of every day to teach these kids how to be good. Subtle signs indicate you are failing. But they'll get bigger, you'll keep trying, and they'll learn in time. At least, that's what you tell yourself. One of these days, we will check out books without contemplating checking in to an institution.
You win again this time, library. But - and don't ask me why - we'll be back.
This is so funny...earlier this week I made the huge mistake of going to the library with all three kids and no stroller for my 20 month old. About ten people asked if I was okay and needed help, I don't know how they would help, adopt one of my kids? Cameron kept running down isles, out the door, pulling books down. It doesn't help I am huge and pregnant. Anyway, lesson learned if I can't strap him down and keep him quiet with some sort of food we aren't going!
ReplyDeleteAh the handicapped button. :) Just wait til you're toting the third one in a front pack to chase the two toddlers. A whole new world!
ReplyDeleteSarah, your style and wit keeps me grinning from ear to ear. You are a gifted writer and your kids will treasure your dedication in keeping all of their moments recorded. (Especially the crazy ones like these--because really sweet and quiet are just other words for boring) You are a beautiful woman and a great mother. Miss you friend.
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