those stickers can suck it

We were outside, doing this sort of dump truck themed day at the library. Wyatt was pretty much in Heaven; climbing into the dump truck, turning the steering wheel, feeling like he was the construction worker he claims he wants to be when he grows up. The only problem was the line of kids waiting for him to get out. I told him we had to leave. He actually leaves willingly, but I should have known better – he plants his feet on the ground and demands 'another turn after the next kid is done'. I tell him we can't do that.

He screams, he throws his body on the ground, he pretty much starts to convulse.

Now, when it's just my family, I can handle this pretty well – walk away, pretend that I'm leaving and let him freak out a little bit...

but when I have my two boys and the other two little ones that I watch it's a nightmare.

I pull the youngest one out of the stroller and push Wyatt in the seat instead. I attempt to buckle him in as he contorts his body to not be restrained.

The littlest ones, a two year old and the three year old, decide to hold hands and start walking across the parking lot by themselves. Not OK.

I call them back, probably something more like “Get back here NOW!”. Henry rushes in to pull them back onto the grass.

Finally, Wyatt is strapped into the stroller, still screaming. The other two boys hold hands with Henry and walk across the parking lot with him...

until the three of them, in chain reaction, fall to the ground and of course, the chain reaction of crying continues. The two boys start crying in unison with Wyatt. Henry, at least, is able to wipe of his fall and continue on towards the van.

I'm sweating by this point, frantically just trying to get everyone to the car. I need to clear the scene as quickly as possible.

I pick each of them up, tell them they 'look OK' and that we 'have to get into the car'.

The doors slide open and I get crying children, 1,2 and 3 into their seats when along comes the librarian.

She comes rushing up “Let me get you some stickers”.

I try to be polite 'no thank you!' I'm thinking this all started with a tantrum, I'm not about to hand out stickers for all that just happened.

She insists (or isn't listening) “I'm just going to run in and get those stickers”.

I'm talking to her back “No, really, no thank you!”

I strap the last kid into his car seat (hoping to make that quick escape) when she arrives with 8 stickers in her hand like she's the hero of the day. She tell Henry “You look like the big boy, you can give them to everyone when they calm down”.

I'm so mad at her at this point, I can't say anything. She's lucky I have my sunglasses on because I'm giving her my death be yours glare. All I can think is 'those stickers can suck it'. What I needed was a sympathetic look and nod of knowing, not some freakin' stickers.

She smiles and heads back towards the rest of the group still in line for the dump truck.

I pull away with my van full of crying kids just wishing that I could throw those damn stickers out the window.