Today, Sam and I were getting ready to lay down for our nap. Yes, I still sleep when he sleeps. Please don't tell Andy that this should have ended like 30 months ago. I keep showing him the "infant instructions" pamphlet from the hospital, but I whited out 'infant', and wrote in 'preschooler'. One of the instructions on it is to nap when your child naps. I'm sure he's wondering why this pamphlet about preschoolers also mentions what to do when engorged. Whatever.
I laid down with my Sony Reader and Sam went over to my bookshelf and grabbed John Jakes, The Seekers. In case you don't know. It's like 500 pages and is book three of an eight part series. I tried to explain to Sam that he needed to start with The Bastard because that is book one and if he started with book three he would just be confused. He told me to stop talking, because he was trying to read. So I settled back with my Danielle Steel novel and with the sinking feeling that he thought my reading material was inferior. Do you ever stop feeling insecure as a mom?
Yesterday I took Sam to the gym. He loves the kid's area and has told me numerous things that have happened there while I am on the elliptical trying not to fall off. One day, I asked him who he played with while I was working out and he replied that he had played with God. The next day, apparently a tiger joined the group during circle time and more recently he told me he couldn't wait to go to the gym so he could, "scare all the boys and girls away." I'm trying not to be concerned. Also, since God is there...I'm gonna let him keep an eye on things.
Recently he has become more daring about the indoor play set. You know the one I'm talking about, moms. It goes straight up in a series of tunnels and tubes and resembles the thing your hamsters used to run in. I don't know that I understand why we've done away with the gate to gate concrete and metal playground and replaced it with a series of tunnels that go straight up to the ceiling. And this all in the name of safety? Sam has never previously cared about climbing in these things. He has always been content to be the kid standing at the bottom of the slide looking up for the eight seven year-olds that are about to come down one after the other and knock him over. Yes, this could involve a concussion...but at least I could get to him.
What do I do if my kid climbs to the roof of this contraption and decides he's not coming down? Am I supposed to go up after him? Get a cherry picker? I don't have a plan for such an emergency. So point being...last night he climbed up and got stuck. Like crying stuck. Like big, huge, pushy boys passing him too fast and knocking him around stuck. Like stuck like I wanted to punch these boys in the face...that kind of stuck.
So, I went to one of the childcare workers. Why? Because they are younger, smaller and their knees don't make weird noises when they squat down. The childcare workers there are super nice so I'm not knocking them. I told this guy that my child was stuck and I was trying to "talk" him down. He looked at me confused and asked his name. Certainly this has happened before. Is there some "so your child is stuck at the top of the play set" etiquette book, because most days I feel like there is etiquette to everything involving my child and I don't know it. And people know I don't know it.
Stupid me...I thought there was an escape hatch or some secret door that you opened and got access to these kids. Isn't there like a "retrieve child" button or something in these mazes? Perhaps I should invent that. So this childcare worker, God love him, walked over to the exact spot I had been standing, looked up at Sam and said, "Okay...come on down, Sam."
That was helpful...thanks.
Because I never know if my kid is playing me or really upset, I tend to have several different reactions all at once so I cover all the bases just in case. Don't judge me. So using a clever combination of promising ice cream, glaring at him, threatening time out and eventually flashing a $20 bill...he finally found his way to the slide and came safely to the ground.
I know you are all relieved.