Never Judge a Girl Crying in a Dairy Queen
I don't know about you, but after a long week of work, my dream is to end up in a Dairy Queen dining room at 9pm, blubbering and crying to my two youngest children...said no mom ever.
This is what was going to happen according to the idealistic person in my mind:
I would come home from work after picking Easton up from preschool. Then, I would surprise my children with an impromptu dinner at Steak-n-Shake, complete with Christmas shakes (extra whipped cream, extra cherries). While we sat in Steak-n-Shake we would laugh and frolic about, talking about all the joys in life. My kids would divulge every detail of their school days with me, and I would give them sound advice as to how to handle the problems they presented. They would listen with eager ears, and we would end the trip with a big group hug. Kumbaya might even come into play. Yes, it would be a perfect night. One to remember. I might even stop at Wal-Mart and buy each of them a small, unexpected gift.
Unfortunately, this is not the story of that magical night in my head. This is the story of what actually happened.
5:00- I pull into the driveway after creating the beautiful, made-up rendition of how our night was about to go. I ask the kids if they would like to go to dinner. They squeal in delight. The plan was going well.
5:15- We leave the house. Traffic is wonderful. I decide to drive to a Steak-n-Shake out west, in hopes that my husband might be able to meet us for dinner. We make it to our destination in record time.
5:30- We arrive at Steak-N-Shake. It's pretty crowded. It appears as if no one is working because the line fills the entire lobby. Tripp sticks his tongue out at Noah. Noah flicks Tripp. Tripp cries. Noah says Tripp's hair looks ridiculous Tripp cries. Tripp hits Noah. Noah says Tripp is dumb. Tripp cries. Easton begins getting aggressive with one of those claw machines. "I WANT TO PLAY! I WANT TO PLAY!" He yells. I look around, beginning to mildly panic. After waiting in line for 15 minutes I make a strategic decision to keep my sanity. I tell the kids we are going to a different Steak-N-Shake. Surely it won't be as busy. I begin to get push-back from my little humans. "But we're huuuunnnngry" they say. "We are all hungry" I snap back. "Let's go."
5:45- We head to the next Steak-N-Shake. Traffic is not so friendly this time. Neither are the kids in my car. "This is why I never want to go out to eat with you." one says. "STOP SINGING SO LOUD!" another exclaims. "I'm staaaarrving." a third voice says. "What the f*$# did I get myself into?" I think to myself...
6:00- We arrive at Steak-N-Shake number 2. We walk in. I quickly bribe my children with shakes in exchange for good behavior. "That will keep them in line." the little voice inside my head says. (HA.) The line is slightly shorter at this location.
The person in front of us says that she has been waiting for 10 minutes and no one has acknowledged her. Finally, she approaches an employee and asks politely how many people are working. Two. The answer was two.
I began to develop a sinking feeling. A deep realization that this location would also be hell. I decided to stick it out. 5 minutes go by. The kids are sitting quietly in chairs in the lobby. 10 minutes go by. Easton is yelling at an adult to "STOP LOOKING AT HIM." Noah and Tripp begin to bicker. Finally, our turn. We are led to our seats. As we walk I notice my shoes sticking to the ground with each step. We sit near the restrooms, where the faint smell of urine mixed with grease and dirt begins to invade my nose. I look at the place where my feet are STUCK. Black grime so thick it would take some SERIOUS elbow grease to remedy. I look over at a part of the kitchen that I can see. Dirt and grease cling to the bottom of the equipment like cobwebs.
I look at my kids. Easton happily sticking stickers on his face. Noah and Tripp playing tic-tac-toe.
I look at the floor. I imagine the dirt seeping into my soul.
I look at my kids. They are starving.
I look at the kitchen, imagining one of those grease webs falling into my chili.
10 minutes pass. No one comes by for our order. I take a deep breath. "Guys, I'm sorry. We can't stay here. I can't eat here- you shouldn't want to either. It's going to be an hour before we eat, and I am having a hard time peeling my shoes off the floor. I promise I'll make it up to you."
I grab Easton and tell Tripp and Noah to follow. Easton begins WAILING "I WANT STEAK-N-SHAKE!!! I WAAAANNNNTTTT STEAAAAAAK-N-SHAAAAKE!". Tripp bursts into tears "I am going to die I am so hungry!!!". Noah dramatically rolls his shoulders, eyes, and head in a feisty, preteen way, and begins angrily walking towards the door.
6:30- We are in the car. I am pissed. We are all hungry. Easton is still SCREAMING. Tripp is crying. Noah is complaining. I call my husband. "WHERE THE HECK IS THERE TO EAT AROUND HERE?! ALL I WANTED WAS TO HAVE A GOOD FLIPPIN' NIGHT WITH THE KIDS AND WE HAVEN'T EVEN EATEN YET. THIS IS SO FREAKING RIDICULOUS, AREN'T THERE ANY OTHER PLACES TO EAT IN THIS FORSAKEN LITTLE TOWN!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!"
I am not sure what he said back. I was yelling over Easton's shrieks. I was venting. I was also not using the kid-friendly language that I just outlined in that narrative.
6:45- Easton is still screaming. Over to my left I see a glimmer of hope. Freddy's Steakburgers. YES! Same concept as Steak-N-Shake. "Okay" I think to myself. "Pull yourself together. This will be a second chance. Just calm down, put a smile on, and remember the reason you wanted to take the kids out to dinner in the first place".
6:50- We are parked. I calmly tell Easton that we will go in when he is finished crying. He screams louder. I repeat myself. He cries. I repeat myself. He begins to calm down. Noah comes out of the back and yanks a sticker off Easton's cheek. Easton begins WAILING. My blood begins boiling. I grit my teeth. I remind Easton that we will go in as soon as he is done crying. He calms down.
7:00- I open my car door and get out. I open Easton's door. He looks at me with huge, angry, devil-eyes, and starts screaming at the top of his lungs. I. Lose. My. Shit.
I grab his cheeks and scream right back. I slam his door and get back in the drivers side. I throw the car in reverse as I am yelling that we are "JUST GOING HOME!!!!!." I realize that Easton is not buckled up. I throw the car in park and scramble into the back seat. I vicsiously work to buckle that stupid, freakin' carseat. In my fury my skirt gets stuck on my foot. As I am wrestling the carseat I hear a loud RIP. Awesome. My knees and elbows are flailing around trying to get back into the drivers seat. I finally make it. I am shaking, huffing, and puffing. I know that I have completely lost my mind. Easton and Noah are both crying, and Tripp is covering his ears.
7:15- We are heading back home. Everything quiets down. I begin to recite the narrative that I am sure all of you could predict I would recite. It went something like this:
"I am a horrible mother. What kind of mom looses control on a three-year-old like that? What kind of mom scares her kids like that? All I wanted was to take them out for dinner and ice cream shakes. All I wanted to do was have a good night. It is my fault it didn't happen. I am the adult. I should have control. What did people in the parking lot think of me as I was going bat shit crazy? My kids deserve better. I am a horrible mother."
I began crying. Silently bawling in the front seat of my car. Everyone else was staring blankly out of their windows.
I did the only thing I could think of to fix everything that had just happened. I headed to a third Steak-N-Shake.
(What is the definition of insanity again? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result? Hmmmm.)
7:45- It is music to my ears as my kids get excited that we are at yet another Steak-N-Shake. Phew, they don't hate me. We walk into an almost empty dining room. We are seated immediately. Things start looking up. We sit down and I apologize to my kids. I tell them how sorry I am that I lost my temper, and that the way I reacted wasn't appropriate. My oldest reminds me that I am only human, and everyone loses their cool sometimes. He reminds me that it would be weird if I didn't freak out sometimes. It is natural. We are not perfect. Cue more tears.
8:00- The manager of the joint comes to me and says that there isn't anyone cover the floor but, "he'll go ahead and take us". We order.
All is well, food is on the way.
8:15- Still no food.
8:20- Food comes. Sort of.
I politely remind them that we need applesauce. And a bowl of chili. And my food. They bring the applesauce.
8:30- They bring another dish out that was never actually ordered.
The kids are so hungry that they devour that too.
"Can we get shakes, mom?"
"No" I reply. "I never got my food, I am starving, and I don't want to spend one more minute in this place."
"But MOM- WHY? We really want shakes!"
"I said no. Can you guys please just realize that this has been the night from hell, and be happy that you actually ended up eating!?"
The kids quietly finish their food. We leave Steak-N-Shake. I silently vow to never come back.
As I get into the car I realize that I am still hungry. I never actually ate. SO, what the hell, let's just run across the street to Dairy Queen. The kids can get their ice cream, and I will be able to get a meal of some sort.
8:45- We pull into Dairy Queen. The kids are delighted. I am famished. We walk in. I order a snack wrap, small fry, and three mini blizzards. The kids start playing in the play area while I wait for our order to be called.
"Order for Alyssa!" I hear.
I walk over. "Excuse me, I also ordered a small fry."
"No you didn't it's not on your receipt."
The words "ARE YOU FU*KING KIDDING ME" begin flashing through my head.
I walk away.
I open my snack wrap. It looks and smells delicious. I take a big bite- and my teeth bounce on the biggest piece of fatty, gristle I have ever seen in a single piece of chicken.
I put the chicken to the side. I'll just eat my Blizzard.
I open the Blizzard. A melted, soupy mess awaits me on the inside of my cup.
And that is where my Friday night led me. Crying in the middle of a Dairy Queen at 9pm on a Friday night. Silently sobbing, tears running down my cheeks.
That was the point where I gave up. I surrendered. The picture-perfect made up movie I created in my head had twisted, turned, and burst into flames.
There was not one thing that could salvage this night.
There was also not one thing that could make it any worse.
2:00am- "MOMMY- COME HERE!!! I THREW UP!"
Nevermind.
Until next time,
XO
Aly
"If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans."- Woody Allen
