Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Getting Harder to Tote Around.

It's getting harder to take Elliot everywhere with us on errands, because of his need to move, his shortened attention span/extended awareness, and his whining/potential meltdowns when he's hungry or tired. Well, are all of these things a given as we enter Toddlerhood?

I thought I had a perfect little window to jaunt to Target today with Elliot, since he ate lunch so late. It went fine overall, but I experienced my first moment of someone seeing me reprimand my child and giving me that "Oh, you're dealing with that THAT way?" look.

I had Elliot in the moby, which I rarely use anymore (he gets too antsy, starts to arch, etc, which is much harder to deal with when he's strapped to you instead of in a stroller). I was hoping for a fast trip, but like I reported back to Pat the last time I went-- no matter how long the trip is, the last 10 minutes Elliot gets antsy or fussy. I could be there 20 minutes or two hours, it's always the same. Maybe the longer trips I know he's doing well so I push it to the limit? Anyway, back to my story.

Elliot had started rocking his head back like he does in the high chair sometimes, but this time, he's whacking my collarbone with his skull. I did plenty of stern "Nos," "Stop its," "What did I says," and holding his head firm, but he was just getting bored. Impossible to ignore at this point. I flicked his hands, which made little sense to me since he wasn't doing anything bad with his hands, but since he was in the carrier, little else was accessible. It waned a bit.

I was waiting in line and they were really busy. He started the whamming again, over and over, ignoring my stern instructions to stop. I wanted to spank him, but getting him out of the carrier when I was so close to getting to the car was not an option (I'd have to get him back in, he'd want to roam, we were in line, etc). I grabbed his leg, and spanked the side of his thigh with a teeth-gritted, "I told you to stop that." I glance up, and the lady behind me looks at me like I'm white trash at Walmart. I force a grin, she does the same, and I slunk back to unloading my cart while she switches lines. Go on, judge me. I think I might second guess the judging next time I see something like that, not knowing what led up to it.

That was the only hitch, and for being right at dinnertime, with bedtime a short stint away, he did well. There wasn't another fuss and he even walked the half block home, getting himself up all the stairs (outter entrance, and our 2 flights) with Cheerios in hand so I could lug in the refrigerated groceries.

On the bus with the mouse in tow from previous post's tale.

Some new lovely friends we made (family of some of our friends who stayed with us for the marathon) sent Elliot this awesome hat.

Anyone else see a little Uncle Brad in this one?

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