Here's the story.
2 weekends ago, we were blessed with an ever rare family day. A day for all 7 of us [wow, it's crazy seeing that typed out - 7 of us] to spend together. On this particular day the Mr. and I decided lunch out and a trip to the Mall for a ride on the carousel followed by a treat sounded good.
I think it goes without saying that the kids thought this was a pretty great plan as well.
Excited and ready to go, the kids barreled their way into the car with the standard banter that comes with getting ready to go someplace "I was getting in first! Don't push me! Ouch that hurt! MOOOOOmmmmm!!!!" which was followed by my standard reply "Stop it. Everyone quiet down, get buckled and be nice." Followed by the ever surprising result of them not listening to my requests by keeping up their fighting while buckling, backing out of the driveway and right on through the entire drive to our destination. All of this resulted in me being incredibly grouchy and feeling the need to say "screw it" to the whole idea, and turning the car around to go home and spend our one of very few family days at home picking our butts instead.
But instead of going the whole "screw it" route, I decided to take the higher road by taking a deep breath calming my nerves and going over the you-all-know-how-we-are-supposed-to-act-in-restaurants-and-if-we-can't-behave-we-will-have-to-leave speech before unloading everyone and heading into our restaurant of choice; Acapulco.
And to my surprise, the experience was not as bad as I had thought it would have been after the car ride there. The kids all sat nicely, found their way through the mazes on their kid menus, played tic-tac-toe with each other and were generally well behaved. Everything was going well until my Nathan decided he needed to fill his pants. And when I say fill his pants, I mean fill his pants to the point where it comes out the sides of his diaper, up the back of his diaper, and slowly runs down his legs and into his socks. Yep, it was that bad. And this all happened right as our food was being put on the table.
So I grabbed the diaper bag and headed off to the bathroom not only with Nathan, but with Liv and Anthony in tow as well. This was going to be interesting. While I situated Nathan on the changing table to assess the damage, Anthony decided to lay down on the not so clean bathroom floor, as Liv inspected the toilet seat while attempting to flush the toilet over and over again. After my comments of "please don't touch that! Get up off the floor! Yucky!" finally got through to them, I had finished cleaning up Nathan and needed to wash everyone's hands. This took a good 10 minutes to accomplish, but it was safe to say that when we finally left that cesspool of a bathroom, the kids' hands were clean and they were ready to eat.
As we sat back down at the table, Ava very proudly showed me her artwork. "Look what I made for you and Daddy while you were in the bathroom Mom!" It said I love Mom and Dad up to the moon, and was accompanied by some pretty fabulous looking stars and a moon to boot.
After lunch, we headed on over to the Mall and did some walking around. Ava immediately started in with "you said we could have a treat! I want a treat now!" We told her we would get a treat, and that she needed to be patient. A few minutes later it turned into "you told us we would ride the carousel!" We told her we would, and that she needed to be patient. Apparently the fact that she could not have a treat or ride the carousel right that second was just too much for her to handle, so she started to whine in a bad sort of way.
I ignored it, the Mr. ignored it.
We made our way into Old Navy where I went in search of a new outfit for Nathan being that he was currently sitting in a poo filled onesie and pants. This still did not seem to deter Ava from wanting to ride the carousel and have a treat right this second, as she kept right on whining. The whining stopped abruptly when she came across a big bin of balls to play with. The Mr. told her to put the ball back. Ava? Oh, she just looked right at him and kept on bouncing that ball. He told her again to put the ball back, and again she looked right at him and kept on bouncing it. He told her if she did not put the ball back she would not get a treat. She bounced that ball a few more times, put it back in the bin, gave the Mr. a look that said, "Hah!" and walked away.
Not very smart.
As we were on our way to the carousel, the Mr. whispered to me "no treat for Ava." After their ride, we walked around a bit more, then headed to get a treat. The kids excitedly shouted out their requests. After Ava gave hers the Mr. said "but you don't get a treat, remember?" No more than 2 seconds after hearing this devastating news, her bottom lip started to quiver, her hands slowly went up to her eyes, and the tears started to flow. They flowed while the boys and Liv chose their treats, they flowed while walking back to the car, they flowed the entire car ride home, and they flowed for a good 20 minutes after we got home.
After getting everyone situated and in the house, I sat down with her to talk about why it was she lost the treat - she seemed understand, but was nothing short of pissed off that Daddy followed through with the whole if-you-don't-put-that-ball-down-you-won't-get-your-treat thing. Learning the hard way is never fun, is it?
A few hours later, she came to me with her artwork from earlier that day. It sure looked a lot different than her original piece.
"Ava, what happened to your picture?"
In the best sassy voice she has "I changed it."
"Why?"
"Because I don't like Daddy anymore."
"Ava, Daddy loves you. He was trying to teach you a lesson. You were whining a lot and you didn't listen when he told you to put that ball down."
"I'm Mad. I wanted my treat and he never gave me a warning before he said no treat."
"Yes he did Ava."
"No he didn't"
"Yes he did."
Insert long pause....
"Well I don't remember!"
"I think he would be sad if he saw you ripped his name out of the picture you made."
"I don't care!"
Later that day, I saw Ava and the Mr. chatting and, dare I say, she was laughing and smiling.
I asked her if she decided to change her mind about the whole not loving her Dad anymore thing.
Her response? "Yes. But I am still mad at him!"
That's my Ava - looks like we have our hands full, no?
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