Last Thursday, the library hosted a Carnival Night to celebrate those that had completed the summer reading program. I really wanted to take Drew, as he totally deserved it for listening to me, Brad, and all four grandparents read him so many stories this summer ;) , and I figured he'd have a great time (what three year old doesn't love a carnival?). It was also the perfect thing to keep us occupied before heading out of town for the weekend.
And besides, it was free.
And who doesn't love free?!
I digress. Anyway.
We arrived right at 4:30, when the carnival began, and the plan was for Drew to enjoy the inflatables and games, then eat a few hot dogs for dinner before hitting the road.
That was the plan, anyway.
A bit of background here: Drew is potty trained, meaning, he no longer wears a diaper. What he does not do, however, is let us know when he has to go to the potty. It's either a guessing game or a given part of our routine. When he woke from his afternoon nap, I told Drew to go use the potty. After a minor battle of wills (as he doesn't like to go even when we tell him to), I won, and into the potty he went. After a few minutes, I hear him washing his hands, but he hadn't flushed the toilet. When he came out, I asked him if he'd peed. He said yes. I asked him if he'd flushed. He said yes. I said "go check." He came back again and said he had flushed. For a moment, I thought I was wrong, and just hadn't heard it.
Joke's on you, Mom!
Fast forward to the carnival.
It's hot. And sticky. But Drew is having a good time.
Eventhough he wouldn't go down the slides without Dad, I was really proud of him for doing it, and then doing it again. (He's our timid, I-don't-take-chances son.) After going down twice, he wanted to try the other inflatable slide.
Unfortunately, he never made it.
We were patiently waiting our turn, and were two kids away from the front of the line, when Drew f.r.e.a.k.s. out, making the noises that I know are the "I have to pee right now!!" noises.
And of course, there are a gazillion people so peeing in the bushes isn't really an option, at least not without getting reprimanded by library personnel, and the door to the library is on the other side of the building. So I grab Drew (shoeless because he can't wear his sandals on the slides), and walk as fast as I can to the bathroom, which is about as far away inside the building from the already far away front doors as it could be.
I think you know where I'm going here.
Drew didn't make it.
I was hot. And a bit frustrated that A) my son didn't go to the bathroom at home like he was told and then B) lied to me about going, only to top it off with C) not telling me when he had to go!
Yes, I know he's three. Yes, I know it was an accident. But our carnival fun was over. I took him back outside, walked all the way to the back of the library to get Brad and Reed, then headed to the van to change Drew's clothes.
And this was when Mama guilt set in. I felt bad that I took Drew away from the carnival and told him "no more" after his accident. He was having a really good time, and was being courageous in wanting to play on the inflatables. I was frustrated. I probably overreacted. We probably could have changed his clothes and gone back to the carnival. But it was hot. I was sweating. Brad was sweating. And I know I let the heat and my frustration make the decision for me.
I guess I share this story so that, someday, the boys will read it and realize that making Mama decisions, and being okay with them, can be really really difficult (even the small ones).
On a good note, Drew didn't seem bothered by leaving. We had a quick dinner at McDonalds, and then headed out of town to my cousin's for the weekend.
1) Check the toilet at home for pee before leaving for a hot, outdoor, kid event;
2) Risk reprimand by library staff and let Drew pee in the bushes!