Danish Gymnasts and a mean old lady.

This morning Ben was out doing a precinct walk for Prop. 8 and I dropped the girls off in the play care at our local (rad) YMCA. They had yummy snacks, juice, adequate changes of clothing (Lily is potty training so the extra clothes are important). I was walking light on my feet, looking forward to a workout all alone.

As I am walking to the gym I am thinking of our nice morning plan:

An hour of exercise, pick up the girls, grab a couple of hot chocolates (the cool Santa Ana's are blowing) for the girls and snuggle in to watch some amazing Danish Gymnasts perform at the Y. I am also thinking about the fact that when Ben gets home he'll have a couple hours to himself to get some work done. Wow, even Ben wins...could it get any better?

Sounds like a nice plan, right? Idyllic, you might say.

Let me tell you, we had one kink in our ever so carefully planned and executed morning. LILY. Yes, she is a wild animal these days. She had two potty accidents before the gymnastics show, she threw her bag of crackers on the newly remodeled facility, and jumped from the indoor window sill onto a table and yelled "I am NOT GOING TO PICK THAT UP! YOU ARE GOING TO DO IT! NOW!"

All eyes were on me. You know the drill.

I looked Lily straight in the eye and said, "Lily, you will pick these crackers up and throw them in the trash can. You will do it right this very second or you will regret it." For a moment it was eerily calm and the tension was high. Lily is the most stubborn kid alive.

No budge. So I scramble to gain control.

"1....2..."

"No! DON'T COUNT MAMA! DOOOOONNNN'T COOOOOOOOUUUUNNNTTT!"

"I am going to say 3. You will not like the consequences if I say it. So, pick up the crackers right now!"

At this point, I can feel the stares of onlookers burning holes in the back of my head and Lily's eyes glance from my eyes to just above my crouched-Lily-level-stance above where a hoard of people are waiting to see the gymnastics performance. The weighing of the options continues behind her rebellious, liquid blue eyes...I wait.

She finally picks up the crackers and throws them into my palm. Neither of us won. She didn't throw them away. I did. I just couldn't handle any more attention in our direction.

We move over to another area and find out where we need to sit. We squish together on the floor of the new gym watching the Danish gymnasts warm up. I whisper to Chloe "Did you know that our name came from Denmark? Dad is a little Danish and that makes you Danish too! Do you see how these guys look a lot like Dad?"...Chloe likes hearing things that directly concern her. I watch the glimmer in her eye as she thought over what I was divulging.

In my lap, is a screeching, kicking Lily who is terrorizing those sitting closest to us. The gymnasts were really good and Chloe didn't want to leave. I felt the same way and decided that Lily was going to have to bear through it with much distraction and cajoling from myself, as usual. In my mind, the frustration is building. I am sitting here as she gropes and pinches and screams wondering why in the world she deserved a hot chocolate? AND What kind of Mother would take this little beast to a great show after all the fuss? AND What in the blessed world am I doing?

She made it through, she always does. At the end, the gymnasts sang the star-spangled banner to the audience and we all stood to join in. About a minute passes and I hear "I CAN'T SEE!"...I think to myself "That's funny...nothing is happening...They are just standing there"

I glance back, holding a 35 pound child in my arms (yes, she is in the 99% percentile) to find the person who can't see. It is a very, very wealthy ninety year old woman. Her diamond was bigger than three of her fingers. I step to the side and motion for her to move forward and say "Here, I'll move over so you can see. Would you like to stand in front of us?"

I am a nice person. I try to always be a nice person. I try to teach my children to be nice people. At this point in the day my patience is completely run out. This is what she said to me:

Very coldly, "I am with my husband...Please! Stop this!

Nervously, "Oh!"

I turn to the husband who can barely hear what I am saying.

"Would you and your wife like to stand in front of us so she can see?"

"No, no...I can see, we are fine."

"Okay"

Then a moment later...

I GET POKED IN THE BACK! HARD.

In a bit of a shock I turn around to the real life Halloween witch standing behind me.

She makes this exaggerated neck-straining-look-around-the-person-in-front-of-you move.

I am not sure what to make of it as I have moved aside so she could see already? I wanted to poke her in the face. Instead, I moved Lily over to my other hip and let Lily stare the witch down. She was so grumpy and I was not in the mood to be treated badly by anyone else. A nice person can only take so much before she has to stand up for herself.

Lesson learned today:

When I am an old woman I promise to never, never poke someone in the back, never say "I CAN'T SEE!" with an incredibly rude voice, I will use my words (as I remind the girls daily) and say "Excuse me sweetheart...would you be so kind as to move aside so I can see whats going on?".

It doesn't matter how old or who you are...Can't we all just use our words?! I guess she was a very unhappy and passive-aggressive person who I should feel sorry for. Today I have no patience for such unacceptable behavior. The diamond ring does nothing to impress me.

Being a jerk isn't okay.

Being a jerk to a mama-toting-whiny-preschoolers?

Sorry, not available for that treatment today. My tolerance left the office and won't be back until Monday. Try again later.