I should have seen it coming. I mean, I knew two birthday parties in one day was pushing it for a 3 year old, BUT I had high hopes we could get through the day with minimal meltdowns. It may have been possible had they gone to sleep at their normal times in their own beds the night before, but no, momma decided we should all just sleepover at our friend’s house following the BBQ because the guy’s played 36 rounds of golf which meant the hubs had lots of fun and I wanted to have fun, too – > said in my whiniest Caillou impersonation. And logistically it made sense since they live in the same general area we needed to be the next morning at 11 for the first of two parties. Of course we all stayed up way too late and woke up way too early, because kids are cruel like that, so the odds of coming out of this day unscathed were not in our favor from the start.

It was a perfect MN summer day for an outdoor party so at least we had that going for us. The boys spotted all the water toys set up in the front yard the minute we rolled up to the party and were already calling out what they were going to play with before we even got them unbuckled. Carter almost immediately posted up at the top of the slide and screamed, “MINE!” any time someone else tried to go down it – including the birthday girl. Deklan wasn’t any better hoarding the buckets like he owned the joint. He wouldn’t even put it down to come sing happy birthday because he was afraid  someone else would take it, even though there were plenty of buckets to go around. I’ve done a really good job teaching them how to share. We are working on proper birthday party etiquette though so I told him if he didn’t come sing he wouldn’t get cake. By the time he realized I wasn’t kidding he started to mosey over just as the song ended. “I MISSED IT! I WANT CAKE AND I MISSED THE SONG!” he screamed right as the crowd grew silent. Ugh. Why is my kid always THAT kid?  It was time to go anyway so I let him scarf down a cupcake for at least being in motion while they were still singing in a desperate attempt to make it out of there without anymore yelling.

NOOOOOOOOOOOPE. I told him we needed to get dressed and go or we’ll be late. He didn’t want to be late, but he also didn’t want to get dressed. That’s obviously not how it works so I cornered him in the yard and pulled off his swim trunks while he screamed at an agressivly high pitch for someone with a slight hangover. Always the life of the party, that one. I gritted my teeth and told him if he doesn’t change his attitude he won’t be going to another party. And that’s when he bolted. I paused for a minute thinking surely he was just going to run to the edge of the yard, but before I knew it he took a sharp right and headed down the sidewalk getting a decent headstart on me. My sandals were wet from all the water toys putting me at a clear disadvantage. I’m probably a good 100 yards behind him screaming “DEKLAN MICHAEL YOU BETTER STOP RIGHT NOW!” as I see his bare butt turn the corner heading to the entrance of the subdivision. At this point I realize he’s not going to stop until I catch him so I ditch the towel and wet shorts I was carrying in some random’s yard and pick up the pace. I’m now in a dead on sprint with urine running down my legs because mommy had a glass of wine and a full bladder which is a recipe for disaster when any sudden movement is involved. “ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW, DEKLAN MICHAEL!” I scream knowing very well that was more about me peeing my pants than it was about him, but still. This entire scene is so ridiculous even the neighbors can’t help but stare. FINALLY he pulls over behind a For Sale sign in someone’s yard just shy of the entrance. I was so mad by the time I reached him I was shaking. The thought of him running into the street before I could catch him scared the shit out of me, and also this meant I had to cancel my plans with one of the other moms to get a pedicure while the kids were at the next party, because there was definitely not going to be a next party for Deklan, and you could definitely tell I peed.

I haven’t even caught my breath yet as I’m telling Deklan he’s in serious trouble and we are going straight home to which he screams, “YOU ARE NOT THE BESTEST MOMMY! ONLY DADDY IS THE BESTEST!” “You know what?” I say, “I don’t even care because I am not a fan of you right now either.” And we start the walk of shame back to the party picking up bits of clothes and what’s left of our dignity along the way. As soon as we turn the corner, I see Chris calmly strolling down the driveway with Carter dressed and ready to go. I hand him the other child and angrily exclaim, “we are leaving right now. I peed my pants and he is NOT going to the party. Start the car.”

I stormed up to the house and said a quick goodbye, apologized for the disruption, and then joined the demon in the car screaming over and over again that he is going to be mad at us “forever and the whole world” and that he’ll never love us anymore. If you’ve ever wondered why they are called Threenagers, this is why. After a solid 5-10 minutes of this he realizes we aren’t caving and switches strategies to crying and saying he’s sorry. It was too late though. I already told him he couldn’t go to the party so I had to stand firm in my decision even though it made me sad knowing he would miss out on the fun, because FOMO, but what he did could have had serious consequences had a car come speeding around the corner, or had we been in a busy place where he could have gotten lost or taken. I mean I had to, right?

By the time we got home both boys had fallen asleep in the car and mom and dad were ready for naps, too. We woke up a few hours later feeling refreshed and hopeful all had been forgotten until Deklan nonchalantly asked,”what time do we get to go to Addy’s party?” It killed me to have to remind him that he missed the party because he made a really bad choice. Just like I’m sure it killed him to remind me that I’m the worst mommy ever, because I haven’t heard that enough for one day. I tried to explain to him that it’s my job to protect him but I could hear the deep rooted disappointment in his sobs as he said, “but Mommy, I don’t need protecting because I’m just a little kid, I’m not a bad guy so you don’t need to protect me.” Seriously, where does he get this stuff from? And why is mom guilt a real thing but you never hear about dad guilt? Also, while we are on the topic, when did the Funday drop from my Sundays?