Well, it seems the girls are entering the "terrible twos" a little early. Here's the story -
I go to a tax workshop on Saturday morning, and Zach decides to take the girls to the mall. I head over to meet them around noon. "Constance is poopy," Zach says over the phone, "meet me at the family bathroom so I can change her diaper." I meet them, give the girls hugs, and hoist Constance up to the changing table. Looking around the stroller, I note the absence of a diaper bag.
"Um, Zach," I say, as gently as possible, "did you bring any diapers?"
"I thought you kept them in the stroller," comes his reply. "I'll run out to the car to get some."
So I stroll the girls around the mall for 10 minutes. Constance decides she is too uncomfortable sitting in poop, so she wrangles free of her seat belt, climbing out of the stroller. Victoria sees that Constance has freedom, so she starts crying. Constance begins screaming when I grab her hand to prevent her from running around the busy mall, and soon I am one Mommie, with two screaming toddlers at the Roseville Galleria. ON A SATURDAY.
Somehow, I am able to herd the girls back to the relative safety of the new "family lounge," which I now realize I never should have left - there are toys there! This time, there is a very kind stranger who offers me a diaper. Sweet! One problem solved.
Zach shows up with more diapers and wipes, and soon we are ready to eat lunch. By now, it is almost 12:30 and the girls are really hungry. Recall, if you will, our lack of diaper bag - this means no snacks, cups, toys, books...
The new food court is totally packed, so we decide on Panda Express because the food is already made and the line moves fast. Zach sets the girls up outside and I get the food. There are no high chairs available, so the girls get to sit big-girl style, which pretty much means they have to stand on chairs to reach their food. Constance is now happy with her terriyaki chicken, but Victoria sees the fortune cookie and thereby spoils her meal.
Thanks to Glammie, Victoria can spot a Diet Coke in any cup, can or bottle, so she refuses any food or water and reaches across the table for the coke. When she stands up, she looks down and sees terriyaki chicken and fried rice covering her jacket and starts wailing. I mean, wailing and thrashing and screaming. I become desperate at this point and try to give her another fortune cookie and a sip of coke to calm her down. Doesn't work. It's clearly time to go, but both girls refuse to sit in their stroller. Zach wrestles each one into the seat belt and we head out of the mall, with two banshees screaming all the way.
Zach notices at least one lady sneering at us. I'm glad I didn't see her. I really think I would have confronted her. "Seriously, lady," I think, "have YOU had twin toddlers at the mall? I would LOVE to hear how you think we should better handle this."
Actually, I do know one thing that would have helped - a well-stocked diaper bag. I think Daddy's learned his lesson :)
I go to a tax workshop on Saturday morning, and Zach decides to take the girls to the mall. I head over to meet them around noon. "Constance is poopy," Zach says over the phone, "meet me at the family bathroom so I can change her diaper." I meet them, give the girls hugs, and hoist Constance up to the changing table. Looking around the stroller, I note the absence of a diaper bag.
"Um, Zach," I say, as gently as possible, "did you bring any diapers?"
"I thought you kept them in the stroller," comes his reply. "I'll run out to the car to get some."
So I stroll the girls around the mall for 10 minutes. Constance decides she is too uncomfortable sitting in poop, so she wrangles free of her seat belt, climbing out of the stroller. Victoria sees that Constance has freedom, so she starts crying. Constance begins screaming when I grab her hand to prevent her from running around the busy mall, and soon I am one Mommie, with two screaming toddlers at the Roseville Galleria. ON A SATURDAY.
Somehow, I am able to herd the girls back to the relative safety of the new "family lounge," which I now realize I never should have left - there are toys there! This time, there is a very kind stranger who offers me a diaper. Sweet! One problem solved.
Zach shows up with more diapers and wipes, and soon we are ready to eat lunch. By now, it is almost 12:30 and the girls are really hungry. Recall, if you will, our lack of diaper bag - this means no snacks, cups, toys, books...
The new food court is totally packed, so we decide on Panda Express because the food is already made and the line moves fast. Zach sets the girls up outside and I get the food. There are no high chairs available, so the girls get to sit big-girl style, which pretty much means they have to stand on chairs to reach their food. Constance is now happy with her terriyaki chicken, but Victoria sees the fortune cookie and thereby spoils her meal.
Thanks to Glammie, Victoria can spot a Diet Coke in any cup, can or bottle, so she refuses any food or water and reaches across the table for the coke. When she stands up, she looks down and sees terriyaki chicken and fried rice covering her jacket and starts wailing. I mean, wailing and thrashing and screaming. I become desperate at this point and try to give her another fortune cookie and a sip of coke to calm her down. Doesn't work. It's clearly time to go, but both girls refuse to sit in their stroller. Zach wrestles each one into the seat belt and we head out of the mall, with two banshees screaming all the way.
Zach notices at least one lady sneering at us. I'm glad I didn't see her. I really think I would have confronted her. "Seriously, lady," I think, "have YOU had twin toddlers at the mall? I would LOVE to hear how you think we should better handle this."
Actually, I do know one thing that would have helped - a well-stocked diaper bag. I think Daddy's learned his lesson :)
1 comment:
I am smiling. Wish I could have seen that. With toddlers-you never know what will happen. It sounds like you two did great. We have had a coulple of melt downs with our grandson and still don't know why.
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