By Melinda Mcalindon
When I was pregnant with my third child, my girls were 2 and 3. We did everything. I was overly energetic and perhaps a little crazy from the hormones. I always tried to dress in non-pregnancy dresses, and, being quite petite, I always wore heels. Yes, even nine months pregnant, I had on shoes with 2" heels every day.
One Saturday, about 6 weeks before my due date, we needed to return a bed to the Pottery Barn Outlet. Unfortunately it was 1 hour way and the bed and the kids wouldn't fit in the SUV. So my husband and I took two cars and the kids to the outlet. Yes, I know the price of gas - it wasn't that bad then!
We had a summer great day. We ended up spending the entire day shopping and the kids were tolerating well. No one had naps, so they were getting a little tired. In my infinite mom-wisdom, I decided the best thing to do was to stop for an "blue-hair special" dinner on the way home (it was 4:30pm) and then put the kids straight to bed. My husband agreed and off we went.
We stopped about 15 minutes later at cute little place called Miss Mabel's. It was a sweet place, southern style cooking, and family friendly. It had a lovely outdoor seating area as well. At this time of day, it was packed with older customers, also wanting the "blue-hair special". We were seated and then the fun began.
The girls had been expending all their energy being good in the stores and in the car. Now, it was dinner time and they decided to relax. Meg, my oldest, stood up in the seat. Libby, my youngest, started crying because, well, that's just how she lets off steam. I promptly asked Meg to sit down. She did, and then stood back up.
Now, you don't know me, but remember the Captain from the Sound of Music? He uses the whistle to call the kids and the all line up. My husband won't let me have a whistle, but I love the discipline of the Captain! So you can imagine my surprise and ire when Meg stood back up. My husband gave me the look: do you really want to fight that battle? I returned with the "mom look" of back off.
And so it began. The downhill spiral of our dinner. Meg sat down after a couple of threats. The waitress came, we ordered and I thought all order had been restored. Clearly, the hormones were affecting my judgment.
Meg decided to play a few more games just to see how far mommy could be pushed today. She colored on sister's paper, she put her feet up in the hair and she tried being sassy. One last threat - the ultimate. The one all parents make and none want to do! I said, "if you do anything else, I will take you home immediately. No dinner - just bed!" Now, to any other child, this would have been the red flag, race over or the ding-ding of the match ending, but not to Meg. She, bless her heart, has my stubbornness, pride and ability to exasperate even those with the strongest of constitutions.
Meg decided to stand up one more time in the seat. I firmly and quietly said, "Sit. Down." The whole restaurant froze in fear, like a scene out of an old western, when she raised her voice saying, "NO!" My husband said, I'll handle this, but, she had waved a red flag in front a very pregnant "bull". I jumped up, grabbed her by the arm and took her outside, "to talk".
It was starting to get crowded now. The outdoor seating area was full and lots of people were waiting around near the door. I knelt down, holding Meg by the hips and started to give her a firm talk. She wasn't interested. Instead, she raised her hand and softly, but intentionally hit me on the shoulder; then, knowing the fate that awaited, started to run off.
Picture this: Hugely pregnant woman - ANGRY- running, in heels after a 3 year old who was screaming "no". Not my proudest moment. I grabbed her, held her up and said, confrontationally I admit, "Do you want to do that again?" She raised her hand, but the fury from my eyes must of caused her to capitulate. I took her inside, said goodbye to my husband and took off towards the car.
As you can imagine, Meg could not believe we were actually leaving before dinner. She started to balk. I picked her up, and she started kicking her legs. Having such a large belly, I could not carry a kicking child the way one normally does. I held her under my arm, like a foot ball, legs kicking, me stomping off in heels past all of the waiting patrons and the outdoor guests.
You would think my humiliation ended as we arrived at the car. No.
I put Meg in the car seat, got in the car and said, "not one word, Mommy is so angry, I cannot punish you now. We will talk about this at home (30 minutes away)." I knew she couldn't be quiet the whole way, but you'd think I could have make it out of the strip mall parking lot before the screaming began. She screamed, "No! Not fair! Take me back!" for what seemed like an hour, but realistically was only 1-2 minutes. That was all I could take.
I pulled into the nearest parking space at Best Buy; yes, we were still in that parking lot. I got out of the car, marched around to her side of the car, and got in. Coincidentally, the screaming abruptly stopped. I pulled her out of her seat, told her that her behavior was unacceptable and this screaming would not continue. She was to be spanked, sit in her seat and go to bed when we got home. I then flipped her over, gave her two firm pops on her bum, and returned her to her seat.
When I finally got back into my seat I was emotionally exhausted and physically out of breath (8 months pregnant, remember) . I took a deep breath and looked up to the heavens for wisdom and probably forgiveness. When what to my wandering eyes did appear on the lamp post, but a small video camera.
I dropped my head in horror, sure, that I was now going to be on the 6 o'clock news, "pregnant women, hormonal rage, beats child...." I called my husband, asking if he'd still love me if I was the "breaking news" on Channel 5. His first words were not "of course, honey" or " I'll always love you", but instead were "what did you do".
It does have a happy ending, I was not the headline, or even a sideline on the news. Meg was quiet the rest of the way home. And by the time we got into bed, she was contrite for her behavior, and we had time to snuggle and restore our relationship.
Mel Mac
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