spring break II

We finally made it to the park. We were having what in Portland we call a "sun-break". Really it was more of an "ice and snow -mix -windy -freezing" break but we had made it. The ultimate goal for Mira and Eli and me, our own mini spring-break, we were at the park.

Not only were we at the park but we had wheels! Ski-boot style roller-skates for Mira (from Target making them next to impossible to fasten) Dora the Explorer over-the-shoes skates for Eli made complete with matching knee and elbow pads ("did those used to be yours?" asked Mira's friend Elizabeth suspiciously when we ran into her) and, for me, bought in a frenzy to have to have some fun this week if it killed me, brand new roller blades. Last night Mira and I had tested out our new skates when Jeff got home from work. We skated around the park for an hour until our hands were numb and it started to rain/snow/ice again. We had the park to ourselves save for one lone skateboarder. We admired his jumps as we raced around giddy in our freedom. Happy to be together. Happy to be away from Eli whose constant crying this week was driving me to the breaking point. We felt light and free on our wheels. Mira and I generally have the exact same skills. We are good readers and great friends. We are terrible at any sport involving balls or competition and are strictly mediocre at math. We are excellent skaters.

Mira insisted on skating to the park. Eli tried on his skates at home and declared that I should put them on at the park where he would be sure "not to fall down and hurt myself". I packed up his skates and gear, Mira's shoes, goldfish, peanut-butter filled pretzels, juice-boxes, water, oh, and my skates, in one of reusable Trader-Joes's bags (the ones I always forget to bring to the grocery store) and we were off. Not only was it sunny but with some motion involved I could almost imagine shedding my winter coat or at least maybe losing my wool hat. Mira ran into yet another friend when we arrived (she is popular my daughter, and this is Portland where the rule is, well, you always run into someone you know) and was off. I stuck Eli's brown Merriled feet into the pinkish red Dora skate and buckled them. "But what if I fall down?"he asked in a voice that was a quiver of a whine. "You won't hurt yourself because your kneed pads and elbow pads will protect you" I replied tightening both around him. He stood up. He sat back down. "But what if I fall here?" pointing to his midsection? "Or here?" pointing to virtually every part of his body that wasn't covered by pad or helmet. "I hate skating here, I want to skate AT HOME!". Uh oh.

The Spring Break Eli was coming back. The one with the very bad cold who hadn't stopped whining or crying for the entire week. Eli had gone from an easy-going baby, to a loud and demanding toddler, and was only now emerging as a mostly mild-mannered and happy four year old. This week he was back to his two year old self. The one, where, when it was actually happening, Jeff and I agreed that we were done having children. The spring break Eli had two modes. Whiny and crying. "LETS GO HOME, IT'S BORING AT THE PARK" the tears were starting. I tried reasoning. "Just, stand up and try it, I'll hold your hand". "I WILL FALL DOWN!" People were starting to look at us. "How will you know if you don't stand up? Mira fell down yesterday. She just got up and started skating again. "NOOO!". "Well then, lets take off your skates and you can play at the park." "I HATE THE PARK, THE PARK IS BORING!". I walked away. He screamed. At this point every eye in the park was on me. I went to check on Mira happily skating and chatting with her friend. "Put on your skates Mommy" she urged me. I looked longingly at my Trader Joes bag which was next to my screaming miserable little boy. "Maybe now is not a good time for me to skate" I said walking back over to him.

He grabbed my leg, pulled me down to him. I took off his skates. I told him that I was going to skate with Mira for ten minutes while he played and then we were going to go home. I said this very logical and calm parenting bit with only the slightest quiver in my voice. He screamed louder. His face was red his nose and eyes streaming his arms gripping tightly around my leg. And then I felt it. The feeling started deep in the pit of my stomach and tried to move to my hands. I wanted to hit him. I forced the wave back down into my stomach. It felt like my insides were being pummeled. I stepped away from my child hands firmly at my side. I didn't do it but I had wanted to. I get it now, why people hit their children. The feeling was hard to resist. It comes from a place deep within. It is an instinct. In this case an instinct that is to be fought against but the fight takes all of your might. It's like fighting the urge to eat or sleep. It is that powerful.

When the urge had almost fully passed we collected a very reluctant and grumpy Mira and returned home. We all ate some chocolate at home and felt a little better. Eli and I took Mira to her piano lesson and he continued to whine and cry. I cried too. I was frustrated and tired and coming down with a cold. But I no longer wanted to hit him. That urge had blessedly passed. When we got home Jeff was home and like the terrific dad and person that he is he took over for me. I had a glass of wine and cooked dinner. I sat with my family while they ate. Jeff bathed the kids and put Eli to bed. I read to Mira. Life was back to ordinary.

The parenting stuff is still hard. Just when you think you are capable it turns around and bites you on the hand (literally). And then it stops again. It wakes up in the morning proud and surprised "I slept all night in underwear mommy!". It gives you a hug and reminds you why you sometimes have to fight your worst impulses. And then life goes on.