Hard life lessons...

Today continued Lila's apparent goal of being the Most Unhappy Child in the World.  I would have to say that she is a strong contender for such an award.  (Actually she is still sick with the croup and just doesn't feel good, poor baby.) Nothing would do today but to be held by Mommy. She hardly ate, couldn't settle enough to sleep and frequently had coughing fits that just about broke my heart when she would make that horrible sound of trying to draw air into an throat that is closed up.

Then this afternoon I tried to help Caitlin with a sewing project that necessitated a longish trip to Jo-Ann's.  We got a good twenty minutes of looking through the pattern books before Lila announced, olfactorily speaking, that a diaper change would be a good idea. Of course I didn't have a diaper with me. Just wipes. So she and I headed up to the grocery store to buy a package of diapers.  She insisted on walking through the store and alternately screamed like she was being tortured or cried, "Take me home Mommy! Take me home!"  So there we are at the check out, Lila sobbing and coughing piteously with huge, disgusting boogers hanging out of her nose and wiped across her cheeks. It was one of those moments when you want to step away and ask loudly, "Who's child is this?"  The kind lady at the check out gave me a tissue to wipe her face, and another lady working at the service counter gave Lila a balloon. Lila wanted me to hold the balloon for her, so I did figuring the sooner and quieter we could leave the store the better.

Out to the parking lot to take care of the original problem. I'll spare you the details, but the end result was Lila heading back into Jo-Ann's with nothing on her bottom half but a diaper, and carrying her balloon. She refused to let me tie it around her wrist. We had been in the store for less then a minute before she inevitably let go and it floated out of reach. We gave up at that point and packed everyone back out of the store.

Oh the heartbreak one small, blue balloon can cause. She sobbed and pleaded for me to get the balloon back for her.  I hate this life lesson, that not everything that is broken can be fixed. It's so painful to watch your child learn it, even over something inconsequential.  It has to be learned though, and I'd rather a million times over that she learns it about a balloon or a toy when she is young and the consequences aren't life altering.

She continued to cry for most of the way home. She was really working herself up to hysteria, when I had to break suddenly at a light. (I'll admit freely that a screaming baby is a great distraction to good driving...)  The car shuddered to a halt and the crying stopped abruptly as Lila said, "Whoa."  Caite and I couldn't help laughing as it was silent for a few seconds, then you could almost hear Lila thinking, "Wait... what was I doing... oh yes..." and then start whimpering again, trying to work her way back to full volume.

Tomorrow should be better. Caite and I are going back to Jo-Ann's. Without the children.