Since we’ve been talking and sharing so much about the fabulous book Mother of All Meltdowns written by some amazing bloggy moms, I decided that I must share my own colossal meltdown because it was epic.
The twins were 2 years-old and we were visiting my brother and sister-in-law in NY as we had done many times before. The Friday night we arrived, my son Miles came down with a fever. It got worse as the night progressed and I ended up “sleeping” with him on a twin bed. With no covers. Wearing a tank top and shorts. In the winter. After what seemed like an eternity of no sleep, my burning baby crying on and off, he finally woke-up his brother and all hell broke loose. It was about 4am. My brother had a pregnant wife and a 4 year-old who were trying to sleep so I decided to take the boys for a ride since that was probably the only thing that would get them back to sleep.
I woke-up my husband and he helped me give Miles some more medicine, pack the diaper bag and get them both bundled up and in the car. At 4am. In the winter. Once we started driving and I put on a movie, there was finally quiet! My brother lives in the middle of fucking nowhere NY so I was driving in complete darkness hoping and praying to see a Dunkin Donuts to get some caffeine in me, but there was nothing but farms and tractors. For fear of falling asleep myself, I went back to the house around 6am to call in my back-up – the hubs.
I was able to sleep for an hour or so and when I woke-up Miles was sleeping soundly and the rest of the crew was ready to go to the Chowder Fest in Saratoga. Doesn’t that sound nice? Isn’t a chowder fest in a quintessential town like Saratoga sound picture perfect? That should’ve been my first clue after the night I had. My husband offered to stay home with Miles so that I could take his brother Vaughn and have some fun after my rough night. Sign number 2.
My sister-in-law offered me her oh-so-slim single stroller since I only had one kid to stroll through the festival. When you are used to twins and suddenly only have to take care of one baby, you feel as though anything is possible! Sign number 3.
I loaded up my one baby into the car I had been driving around in all morning, with my single stroller and we headed to downtown Saratoga. As soon as we parked I realized that poor Vaughn, who had also been up most of the night, was sound asleep. I told the others to go on without me and I would meet them when he woke-up. The other issue? The boys were potty training. Vaughn was now asleep without a pull-up on which meant he was probably going to pee his pants in his sleep. Shit. I obviously wasn’t thinking clearly after the night I had, and left him in underwear. I quickly thought that I had a change of clothes in the diaper bag and a plastic bag for the wet ones, so I was all set. Am I freakin organized or what? I’m telling you, when those kids were little, I was prepared for anything. Except assholes.
Vaughn woke-up and sure enough, he peed his pants and was not happy about it. I soothed him as best I could and took him out of the car seat as fast as I could and got him into the back of the SUV. I was driving my husband’s Tahoe so there was plenty of room. Vaughn could actually stand-up back there when he was that age. Since I only had that dinky single stroller, I just placed it next to the truck – between it and the open parking space, and left the back of the SUV open so I could move around.
Picture this: I’m hunkered down in the trunk space of my SUV with my crying and naked 2 year-old who I’m wiping down with a towel and wet wipes. All of a sudden I hear a loud truck engine. I look out and see a guy trying to pull into the space next to me but the stroller is slightly in the way. He rolls his window down and yells something like “Do you want your stroller to get run over bitch?” and proceeds to screech into the parking space. Commence meltdown.
I jumped out of the SUV (leaving my son naked from the waist down), went up to the guy while he was getting out of his truck and starting screaming at him, beginning with “What the FUCK did you just say to me?” I then laid into him about how I’m a mother of twins and I’m having a very bad day and who the hell does he think he is and I’m obviously trying to change my kid who just pissed his pants and why doesn’t he go fuck himself?” He actually said “I don’t care.” This guy had serious balls. He was also about 6’5″ and looked as though he didn’t miss a meal. Ever.
I finally composed myself (somewhat) and went back to poor Vaughn. He looked like a deer in the headlights. He was stunned. He had certainly never seen mommy like that and hearing all those new and interesting words must have been a shock to his system.
The asshole also had his daughter and wife with him which was probably why, moments later, he walked over and apologized. I just kind of shook my head like “whatever.” My blood was still boiling.
After I dressed my son and put him in the stroller I called my brother and retold the whole ridiculous story. His response? He started laughing his ass off.
The chowder fest was awful. It was super crowded and freezing. We ended up hunkered down in the library for warmth and ate the equivalent of a shot glass of chowder because it was so hard to actually get into a restaurant to get any.
Now, whenever we go to Saratoga, we simply refer to it as “the incident” and have a good laugh. Someday I’ll be able to tell the boys that story as a warning to tread lightly when mom hasn’t had enough sleep!
Share your meltdown moment…it doesn’t have to involve kids! Have you ever fought over a parking space?