Patience

So I’m close to 100% certain I was put on this earth to learn patience. And I’m failing. Daily.

I got up early (well holiday early 8 am) and mustered up the motivation to look online for jobs. Even applied for some that I could just click ‘apply now’ on, saved the links to others for another day.

This took hours and I really must say I was shocked my kids could play happily for that long. And here’s the real surprise they cleaned up after.

Tip I learned from my last childcare job, use a timer on YouTube, works a treat. Okay I had to reset the timer 3 times and redirect the 4 yr old 50,000 but we got there (mostly). Progress not perfection people!

So far we’d all kept our cool (myself and the kids) as we bundled into the car headed for the library with a stop for lunch.

Immediately the 7 yr old, recognising the familiar shopping centre, Saks ‘Can we play on the playground after we finish lunch?’

I say yes but only for 10 minutes as maybe this will be a chance for them to burn off some energy before the library and I can relax and play a game in my phone for a bit.

Everything is going swimmingly until, of course, it’s time to leave the playground. The 7 yr old is ready to go but Mr 4 does his best impression of having a hearing problem until I keep at him so long he says ‘in a minute’ while still not turning his head from the knob maze thingy he’s working on.

I give him a minute then he’s still not listening. Me and Miss 7 go back inside the shopping centre and sit so he can’t see us after I shout ‘bye we’re leaving’.

We’re sitting in the food court. We can see Mr 4 through the glass sliding doors but he cannot see us. I try to hide my rage as I realise he’s having the time of his life int there, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he has been abandoned.

Finally we see another little boy in the play area come up to Mr 4. ‘Oh the little boy is telling him’ says Miss 7, as if he has just spoiled our game.

Mr 4 saunters up to the doors as if this were the plan all along and joins us without a word. Ok mate I can play that game too. Let’s just go to the car now shall we.

If you don’t have a membership to your local library and you have kids, get one. It’s not just books, there’s always something free happening for the kids. This time there were tables with LEGO that although less diverse than our LEGO collection at home, somehow infinitely more appealing. Also it’s really cool there on a hot day.

Leaving the library didn’t seem to be any easier for Mr 4 than leaving the playground. See this is my fault for always bragging that Mr 4 is always happy to go home. It’s usually Miss 7 that has trouble with transitions but today she took my threat seriously that if we didn’t leave soon we’d miss out on the pools, which was nice of her.

This time when we met Mr 4 outside the library he was outraged that I never told him we were leaving. I did dude. Like 5 times.

Despite my threats we did end up at the pools, we did have an ice cream after, and I did let them play on the playground. So imagine my surprise when Mr 4, half an hour after his 10 minute warning wasn’t ready to leave.

Miss 7 kindly offered to help but ended up joining her brother in inspecting the chicken wire fence about 25 metres from the path that led back into the centre toward the exit.

I stayed calm. I packed up. They were still there. Walked through the indoor centre, checked behind me, still no sight of them. I’m carrying three pool noodles and two bags. I decide to make a run for the car. Put our stuff in the boot, then deal with them.

I make it to the zebra crossing. Mr 4 and Miss 7 come running out of the centre. Miss 4 has tears streaming down her face. She’s screaming ‘you were going to leave us here forever.’

I cuddle her ‘no I wasn’t I was just putting our stuff away and then I was coming back to get you!’

Now Mr 4 is screaming too. He’s got something stuck in his foot. You guys it’s literally a blade of dry grass. Effing drought.

He doesn’t want to pull it out and he doesn’t want me to pull it out. Or Miss 7. He just wants to sit in the middle of the ZEBRA CROSSING and stare at his foot.

I pick him up and put him in the car. And of course I’m ‘hurting him’ and I’m ‘a bad naughty Mum’. But I get him buckled and somewhere amongst the screaming and carrying on Miss 7 asks if we’re having desert tonight and I just stare at her and say ‘really?’

All goes well until bed time. I read ‘Over in the Meadow ‘ fresh from the library today but Mr 4 won’t leave the questions til the end. Dude is blocking my flow. I won’t have that in my story time. Not when it’s a song. How dare he?

And that is the tale of the day we nearly made it to bedtime without mummy losing my mind.