The Incident of The Frozen Coke

After ten years of parenting, in spite of all the challenges and occasional bouts of whining and complaining (mine), I've finally come to realize: I'm a pretty good Mom, and I have pretty good kids. Still, we have our moments. Here's one for you from HK's Terrible Twos--

I'm still coming down from being Evil Mommy, climbing back up over the edge of sanity...relax...breathe...much better now. It did get ugly on the way home from pre-school today. Upon arrival to pick them up, I was in great form--so patient, so happy to see them, hear about school, see all the artwork and treasures. It was a beautiful day, and I wanted to get the car washed. I had waited until they could come too so they wouldn't miss out on seeing the mechanical monkey at the carwash. The carwash went fine. And then...

Sometimes, on hot days, we drive-thru at Burger King after school for frozen cokes. The BK is right across the street from the carwash. Z asked if we could do that today--sure, sounds good. But the traffic near the carwash was a huge mess because of road construction, so we were glad to just get out of the carwash lot and on our way. The only other Burger King I could think of was a little out of the usual way home, but fine, no problem. I even thought that maybe we could stop by the Linens & Things store while we were over there to pick up a set of sheets for HK's new bed, another little treat. (This idea doesn't even come up again in the story, just so you know.)

The drive-thru was a disaster. For some reason, it was taking a looonnnggg time, and we were only the second car in line. Normally when it's like that, you park and go in, but not seven months pregnant with two kids in tow: you wait.

We finally got to the speaker and got the instant, tinny command: "Just a minute."
-- "Okay, but we only want frozen drinks."
-- Silence...

Five minutes later, we were starting to get really antsy, and all the people behind us too--and then the kids started losing it, big time. Giggling and name calling, trash talking and acting crazy. The warnings began: "Settle down, guys."
-- "We're going to have to leave without frozen cokes if you don't quit."
I even appealed to the speaker (because I know they can hear all of this going on): "Hello?"
-- "I'll be with you in a minute."

We waited two or three more minutes, four or five more warnings (to the kids, but loud enough for the speaker's benefit) and then I drove off. Very calmly, I explained to them: "I warned you to settle down. No frozen cokes today. Remember this next time and behave."

Z crumpled and went quiet, looking out the window. (He was the one who trash talked the final straw.) HK started crying and shrieking: "I WANT MY FROZEN COKE!!!"

I tried the nice, calm route of repeating what I had said yet another two or three times, until I snapped and used the scary Mommy voice, basically saying the same damn thing yet again, but at the volume to get her attention, and it did--until the light turned green and we started going again (in the middle of intown traffic):

-- "I want my frozen coke. I WANT my frozen coke! I WANT MY FROZEN COKE!!!"

I pulled over into some parking lot. I jumped out of the car and opened her door to TALK to her and ask if I needed to spank her right then. [I'm sure if there had been a video camera around, I would have been on the national news that night, but this was a couple of years ago--and I did not hit her.]

We went over it again, this time with Z's help, i.e., "Why don't we get frozen cokes today?"
-- "Because we weren't good," etc.
-- "I don't want to hear ANYMORE--WE ARE NOT GETTING FROZEN COKES TODAY!!"
I closed the door (careful to make sure she was sitting away and would not get hit or fingers caught in the door as it closed). I opened my door--

-- "I WANT MY FROZEN COKE!!!"

This must have been hilarious from the outside--or I had a bunch of people inside the restaurant we were parked in front of calling DFACS (Department of Family and Child Services) on their cell phones, but I flipped out. Yanked her door open and--really, there wasn't anything I could do. I thought about getting her out of her car seat to spank her, but that really wasn't such a great idea, for many reasons. I had tried the calm, reasonable approach. It didn't work. So more yelling--enough to make her cry, but quietly. I closed the door again, carefully, but with emphasis, and decided to just walk around the car to calm down--

I did actually get back in the car (after four or five circuits around it muttering to myself). I opened my door (silence), got in the car, drove home, and it was very, VERY quiet the rest of the way home.

And that was it, but so much emotion and explosion wears me out completely. Her too, apparently, since she came in and went right to sleep. Z's been pretty good for "quiet time," which means he's only been down to pester me four times in an hour and I had to go upstairs when I heard HK's Sesame Street music start playing. He was in her room--"turning on the music for her."
-- "She's ASLEEP! And I want her to stay that way! GET OUT!"
I spent the next fifteen minutes in his room helping him find something to do. The poor child can't stand it when he doesn't have anyone to play with.

And that is pretty much my afternoon. Z is going to figure out any minute now that it is after 4:00 p.m. and start pestering me to call his little friend next door. And I will, and I'll have to go sit outside to keep an eye on him until HK gets up and the circus starts all over again. And all of this is fine.

I know I'm not the worst mother in the world, and they are good kids. It's just so much work!

© 2003 Sherri L. Caldwell. All rights reserved.