Today was a day

When my alarm went off this morning, I set the timer for ten more minutes. Five minutes is enough time to get ready to work, right? I made it work.

Checked some email, had a meeting. Taught my Live Lesson on monetary policy. It was as exciting as it sounds.

Boys woke up toward the end of my lesson, but were quiet enough that nobody noticed. After my lesson, I got them all dressed and ready for camp, but Evan (6) was complaining that he hadn't had enough screen time. Ian (10) convinced him to walk with his tablet to school, so I hoped that was good enough. It wasn't.

About half way along the four minute walk to school, Evan runs into the ivy and cries that he didn't have enough screen time, so he couldn't go to school. It got worse from there. He yelled a lot; I pulled the tablet from his clutching hands and said that if he wouldn't go to camp, there would be no screen time. He complained. He lost his shoe. He threw his shoe farther into the ivy and I had to retrieve it. Ian, tired of the madness, said he was going to camp. He went. Evan cried.

Now carrying his lunch box, his swimsuit and towel, and one of his shoes, I had about had it. However, I can't leave a screaming 6 year old alone on the pathway. So I was stuck. There could be no retreat. Something had to give. 

I decided to just walk to school and see if he would follow. He did, crying, for a little bit, then he grabbed hold of my leg and I tried to walk like that, thinking that any movement towards school would be an improvement. He lost his other shoe at some point. Then, he ran between two parked cars and sat down, crying that his socks were dirty from me dragging him along the parking lot. He took off his socks.

Overladen with baggage, emotional and physical, I explored my options. I could walk to school, drop off all the stuff, and come back, but that risked him running off, which I didn't want. I could give up, let him have the tablet, and have a reasonable day. I didn't want that, either. I could sit down in the parking lot and cry, but that didn't seem like it would be overly productive. I had to find a middle road.

"Do you want to go home, or go to school?"

"I'm not going to school."

"So, you want to go home, and have no screen time today?"

"I WANT SCREEN TIME!"

"If you want screen time, you have to go to school."

"I hate you."

This was going well.

I said, "Fine. I am going home," then walked around the parked car so that he couldn't see me.

He cried, "Let me put my socks on," and my heart melted. He can't really put his socks on by himself yet, so I walked back around the car.

"Do you need help?"

"YES!"

So, of course, I helped him.

He started following me home after that, then about 2/3 of the way back, he broke out in a run. I knew he was going to lock the door on me, but there was no way I could catch him carrying all the crap I had with me, so I just walked on. At the office, I considered just going in and asking if they would let me in, but they have these big tables outside of the doors to keep people out because of the virus, so I decided to try my luck at home. Arriving, I found the door locked. I knocked, loudly, but heard nothing from inside. I piled all of my stuff on the door step and walked reluctantly to the office.

Halfway down the hall, I heard the deadbolt in the door click, so I rushed back to see if I could get the door open before he changed his mind, and was successful. I entered my apartment. 

I walked through the front room into the bedroom/office, and saw right away that my computer was missing. Evan was under some covers on the bottom bunk, so I asked him, panicked, where my computer was. He said if he doesn't get screen time, then I don't get my computer or my phone. Apparently, he had hidden both. I was very close to freaking out. I did not want to take the day off to look for my computer. Panic was the best word to describe my state of being.

I don't know how, but some combination of pleading and begging convinced him to tell me that he had hidden my phone and computer in the closet. I asked him to retrieve them, and he did, and I was so thankful. I plugged everything back in, and proceeded to return to work.

But then he started stalking around the apartment. He went out on the balcony, walked around Matt's computer, and basically screamed that he was about to engage in some terrible mischief. I didn't know what to do. 

I decided to call Matt, but he didn't answer. Not that he could have done anything anyways, but sometimes just talking to him calms me. Instead, I kind of followed Evan around for a few minutes before I finally convinced him to chill on the bed. I was able to do some work.

No peace for the wicked, he started yelling bad words at me every few minutes, just in time for my noon Live Lesson. I pinged another teacher to ask if she could do the intros with the reason why, and she laughed about my momma drama. At least I could bring some humor into the world. It was only noon and it had already been a long day.

Evan mostly kicked it under the blanket for the rest of the afternoon, which I figured out around two o'clock was because he had snagged his brother's tablet and was serindipidously watching videos on the down low. I was not pleased when I figured this out. He thought it was hilarious. 

He spent the rest of the afternoon in my lap, which made my coworkers comment on the attendance of small children in my last meeting of the day. Thankfully,  the principal smiled rather than scorned. God, I love that woman.

Work day finally over, we masked ourselves up and went to Trader Joe's. Food purchased, we took it home and put it away, then went to get Ian. Everyone home, I cooked dinner, and called it the end of the day. My children had other plans.

Ian came out of his screen time cave to say that he wanted to go on a bike ride, and that if I didn't go, he would tell Evan that we had eaten all of his watermelon, which we had. I got up to go, but not fast enough, and Evan exploded into tears that we had eaten his melon and that was his melon and that nobody is allowed to eat his melon. Thanks, Ian. So very helpful you are.

Placated by the promise of going back to Trader Joe's to buy more melon, we collected the bike, the scooter, and helmets to go on an outing. It was actually pretty nice, at least until Evan fell and scraped his hand on some kind of fruit that left purple juice bleeding from his hand. He was rather disturbed by this, which brought our outing to a close. Ian rode off ahead angry, and I wheeled the scooter off to Trader Joe's. 

Park the scooter. Buy the melons. Get the scooter. Walk home. Day finally complete.

May you and yours be well or better.