It was a lovely afternoon, warm with a gentle breeze. Isabelle, Gryffin and I were lapping it up at the local Tea House, sharing a proper English tea with one of Izzy’s playmates and his mother. Isabelle sipped her tea, sat quietly in her booster chair, and gently made a mess out of the scones and cucumber sandwiches that she was eating for snack.
Until she was done. Mrs. Hyde took over and wild child would not stay seated any more, so I let her play in the gardens around the tea house. Gryffin started fussing so I pulled out the breastfeeding shield and nursed him, chatted, and watched as Isablle played.
Without even a hint or a moment’s notice, she started running. And when I say running, I mean, RUNNING – she was booking it out of the tea house gardens and out into the busy street beyond. She ran with abandon, without looking back to see if I was following, without a care in the world.
Weighted down by an infant suckling on my boobs, I tried to run after her, but was giving poor Gryffin quite a fright. So I power walked after her but couldn’t gain; she was just too fast. With all my might I walked after her, freaking out more and more as she neared the street. Finally, I whispered an apology to Gryffin under my breath and RAN, catching her by the shirt to slow her down.
There was no sign of Isabelle at that point, it was Mrs. Hyde all the way, a kicking screaming punching banshee that I couldn’t pick up or both Gryffin and I would get hurt. I had nowhere to put Gryffin down, and couldn’t let go or she would take off on me again. So I held on tight and rode out the storm.
Oh the joys of parenting a wild teenage toddler while nursing an itsy bitsy baby