The husband and I got a little time to ourselves on Saturday at the UNC/JMU game. Yesterday was a full and fun-packed afternoon at the pool. We thought it would be nice to let Davis skip his nap and just spend the day in the water. Ah, the best-laid plans. In the 5 minutes it takes to drive to the pool, he fell asleep. So, Morgan let him sleep a little, then met up with Ava and me. I should mention here that Davis is one heck of a good napper. There's no playing in the crib. No stalling. Just sleep. He loves his nap. But it was a holiday weekend, so we messed around. We managed to play at the pool for 5 hours, then showered the kids, and everyone was asleep early.
Early to bed means early to rise, and I heard Davis jumping around in his crib at 6am. I was in an Ambien-induced coma, and I think he was actually awake for several minutes before my brain even registered what I was hearing. I know lots of people have kids that get up early, but I've always been lucky in that mine are reasonable in their waking hours. As luck would have it, just as I realized Davis was up, Ava was at my bedside complaining of a "bad dream" (suspicious). So everyone was just up and ready to go. And it was still dark outside. Grrr.
This brings me to the highlight of the weekend. While I went for a run this morning, the husband took the kids to Dunkin Donuts and then to the park. When he got back, we headed to the pool. Again. I knew Davis was tired, but I figured he would be fine once he started playing. Aside from the fact that he catapults himself around the baby pool, narrowly missing the wall each time he lands, he was good at the pool. Up until the point when he wasn't good. And then all hell broke loose.
Well, you know how it went. He wanted ketchup for his hot dog. We didn't put the ketchup in the right place. We decided to pack up the food and head home. Trying to get clothes on him was like trying to dress an alligator. I think his screams could be heard throughout the pool, and probably into the neighboring houses.
I was beyond mortified. I know, I know. We've all been there. No one is really judging, right? But when your kid is the one having the tantrum, it sure does feel like everyone is staring. In our case, I'm pretty sure they were. Really. He was THAT loud. It was terrible.
Within about two minutes of me wrestling him into his car seat, he was snoring in the back seat. As the husband said later, "Well, we played with dynamite, and we got burned."
Never mess around with a 2 year old's naptime.