May 9, 2009

The Wall

5/09/2009 — cori

My children are often forming a wall (a.k.a, barricade) in front of me most everywhere I go. I know that deep down in their little hearts, it comes from the desire to stay ever near their mother dear. They don't want to leave my side, wander, stray. We seem to be attached by a string of invisible glue at all times. Although I greatly appreciate the thought behind the action, I'm beginning to tire of my 'wall of children' everywhere I go (let me clarify - I'm tired of the whole wall action - not the children).

You see...they think they're 'helping me'. Say, hypothetically, that we're at the library and we're looking at a row of books. Guess where the children are? Yep...right in front of me, blocking my view of the books that we're trying to look at. Again, hypothetically, say we're at the store and we're checking out. Guess who's blocking my use of the the little debit/credit card thingy-ma-jig? You got it. I mean, it's not like I am capable of sliding my card myself, or inputting my own pin number. I must bring three helpers along for such tasks. They must be in the center of all the action. They don't want to miss a beat.

After 10 years of parent-hood, you'd think I'd have some sort of system to combat this by now. Yet I fall prey to this simple, little trap they set up time after time. I'm either way too naive, give them the benefit of the doubt too much or just plain idiotic not to see it coming. I have tried the whole 'Speak in a Soft, Kind Voice to Get Them to Listen and Step-Aside' approach. But often it comes out a little too sarcastically, or hissing like or with an evil eye attached. I will get the desired action for a good minute...but then the wall migrates back to its predisposed position.

I absolutely loose it at the library most times. They have found my breaking point and it just so happens to be at the library self-check out. This is my personal torture chamber. And what's worse, is that we go to the library 1-2 times each week. Our family is addicted to books. We leave with like 50 at a time. Now imagine 'the wall' helping you check out 50 books/movies. This does not go well.

This scenario is pretty-much an exact replica of each and every visit to the library:

mommy - "Let's go check-out guys", said while taking deep, cleansing breaths inward and remembering to exhale slowly. Remain calm is my mantra.

kids- running like a herd of wild elephants thru the quiet library so they can claim the coveted 'first in line' position at the self-check out stand.

chloe - in a less than angelic voice, "I was here first!" while squeezing and pushing in between Gavin and Bennett.

bennett - "No you weren't, I was here!" standing his ground. He stands for truth, justice and the American way 100% of the time. There will be no giving on his end. Justice and fairness for all begins and ends with him. If you're weaker, smaller, whinier...there is no grace for you. You lose. Period.

gavin - dropping books out of his arms left and right as he, unsuccessfully, tries resting the books on a small corner of the table. Very clueless. Most often times I have to ask him to stop reading the book at this moment so we can check it out. Please...focus here Gavin. I need a little help. But I shall get none. I'm alone in this little venture.

Now that everyone is in position in front of me and in front of the scanner where I need to scan my library card, I can contort myself around, through, beneath, over them so as to get through with this wretched process.

Each and every time we go to the library, I ask the kids to have all the books they want to check out OUT of their library bags BEFORE they line up in front of me and BEFORE they attempt to scan their books. Do you think this has ever happened once? That is just way too much to think about with the excitement of scanning your own library books looming so tantalizingly close at hand.

And each and every time, I end up rolling my eyes, sighing heavily and holding my tongue as I watch this whole fiasco unravel before my eyes. And if I might happen to have any books to's near impossible because of my little wall...they don't budge. They might just lose their place in line if they scoot over even one millimeter. Why this boils my blood, I will never quite know...but it happens each time like clock work.

Don't even get me started on the whole pushing the elevator button first thing. I might just fall off the deep end. Suffice it to say...I refuse to be an elevator button referee any longer.

Please don't ever come to the library with'll see me at my worst mommy moment.

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