I remember when I wished the kids were able to tell us what they wanted. It was maddening when they would just point at the toy shelf crying and yelling as you picked up each toy one by one until you found the one they wanted. Thankfully Lisa talked me out of my initial solution of installing twenty-six bookshelves so each toy would have its own space.
Now that the kids are able to communicate with words, it makes life much easier. All we really have to deal with is homonyms ("Hmm. Tea or tee?"). But there are times when talking can make a situation much more stressful than a crying baby.
For example, I took the kids to a park today. I let them loose in the toddler playground, and after 40 minutes I figured it was time to go home for lunch. When I told the kids it was time to go home, Emma came right up to me, but Andrew ignored him. I tried to get Andrew, but he just dropped to the ground. I told Andrew, "Please get up because we need to go home, and you're sitting in dog poop."
After repeated attempts, I told him we could get a bagel for the drive home. I figured I could swing by Peet's Coffee a few blocks away, get myself a coffee, and the kids a bagel to share. Like the good, little gentile he is, Andrew agreed and off we went to Peet's Coffee.
During the five minute drive to Peet's, Andrew kept on saying, "Bagel. Bagel. Bagel." And then the five minute walk from our parking space to Peet's, Andrew continued to say, "Bagel. Bagel. Bagel."
I was relieved to enter Peet's so Andrew could get his bagel, and I could drink my well-deserved cup of coffee. Imagine my shock when I pushed our stroller to the counter and there were no bagels. Oy vey!
"Bagel! Bagel! Bagel!" chanted an increasingly frustrated Andrew.
"Andrew, there are no bagels here. Do you want a baguette?" I asked Andrew hoping he understood French.
Andrew gave me a dirty look and screamed, "Bagel!!!"
As I pushed up to the front of the line, the situation got worse. Guess who decided to talk to me? That's right. An old, Jewish woman (see entry Day 853 - BFFs)!
"Oh look at them," said the sweet Jewish woman. "Are they twins?"
"Yes," I answered as I began to talk to the cashier. "Hello. I'd like a small Americano."
"Are they both girls?"
"Umm...no. And I'd also like a blueberry scone."
"Are they both boys?"
"Umm...no. This is to-go."
"Are you Chinese?"
"No. Can you make that a large Americano?"
"I think your son wants a bagel."
Between the Jewish woman and Andrew screaming for a bagel, I wanted to go on an exodus. I remembered that a few blocks away, there was a Noah's Bagel. I told Andrew that we would go to another store to get a bagel. At that point it didn't matter what I said because Andrew just wanted a bagel in his hands.
It took another five minutes to go from Peet's Coffee to Noah's Bagel which meant Andrew was able to scream the word 'bagel' eight-two more times. As I entered the front door of Noah's Bagel backwards (you try pushing a double stroller through a door forward, smartass!), I turned the stroller around and Andrew was able to see an entire display case of bagels. Finally! The Promised Land!
Initially, Andrew was quiet when he saw the bagels. But then his frowned expression slowly transformed into a gigantic smile as he gleefully screamed, "BAGELS!" I bought a whole wheat bagel, tore it up into little pieces, and gave it to Emma and Andrew.
And as we packed up the car to drive home for lunch, Andrew no longer was unhappy and unsatisfied. He had in his hands the treat that he waited for fifteen minutes. Unfortunately for me, although I had my cup of coffee I had to endure a happy Andrew screaming "Bagel!" as he ate and said it the entire drive home...all three hundred eighty-six times.
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