Today is TUMBLE TIME! Yay, It's the time of year when we get to round up the rugrats and take them to the church gym for an hour of running around, stealing toys, climbing slides, and all around madness. So, we loaded up and headed out to partake of this energy sapping business.
It was great, there was running and playing and moms and dads talking. LOTS of kids.
Trampoline Time. That sound like a great idea. It's the part some of the moms round up a kid or two and we all stand around the trampoline and the kids take turns jumping. Sounds easy enough. SO we went down the line, one kid, two kid, three kid, Ben's turn. He gets up and jumps for a minute. Megan's turn, she gets up and jumps. One minute...two minutes... before you know it al parents are motioning/reaching/begging for Megan to get off. What sort of child doesn't listen to their mother?
Megan! Get off...please Megan, come to mommy. Megan? MEGAN!
nothing. Just standing there smiling coyly. Most likely thinking. Look how silly you look mommy. You have NO control over me. HA HA HA HA!
Then Ben decides to "help" by grabbing her sweater by the neck and trying to drag her back to me choking her in the process. Now she's screaming. But at least I have her.
But noew Ben thinks it's his turn again. So he starts jumping. The other parents becon for him to get off. He does but not without a fuss. Now he's on the ground, writing and screaming and kicking and stomping. And don't forget Megan is still in hysterics.
Okay then! We're going home. This does not go over well with Ben. The tantrum amplifier just got turned on to full blast. Sympathetic heads are turing my way now. Get me out of here. I suck at this.
So there I go trying not to drop one wiggling toddler trying to throw herself out of my arms onto the pavement. While screaming. I consider but dismiss the possiblity of allowing her to do so. A few feet behind me is the other. Literally crawling in agony. The way his face is contorted you'd think his legs had just been amputated. We make it to the van. I struggle to buckle them in amidst the blur of karate chops and ninja kicks to my head. The doors close and I stand for a minute listening to the muffled cries from inside the vehicle.
We made it home. Megan is now in bed but i still hear the ragged breaths from the aftershock of her apparent trauma. Ben is sitting on a chair in the kitchen where he will remain until he comes to apologise. He's come shuffling up to me a few times sniffling for his blankie but refusing to say he's sorry. I've had to carry him wailing back to that chair now three times. Be strong Christy. I must win this battle for the said trauma MUST NOT EVER HAPPEN AGAIN!
Oh here he comes, to apologise? I sure hope so...