During embarrassing haul-my-kid-bodily-out-of-a-store moments like I had last night, I sometimes wish that Maeve was the size and shape of a "normal" three year old; i.e.: not 43 inches of flailing limbs. I had to carry her thrashing body down a flight of stairs and through a store out to the parking lot without a) letting any of her flailing limbs hit any merchandise and b) appearing to be an abusive parent. Oh, and c) not injuring the child, either.
These are the moments that you question: am I a good parent? Is this what a good parent would do? But we didn't make a scene over nothing, we tried to get her to calm down in the store, but it didn't work and she started pulling books off the shelves. And I will not have that, nor will I allow her to scream in a store, so out we went.
I do wish sometimes that the six-year-old sized body would come with a six year old's understanding of appropriate behavior in a store, or at least a six year old's understanding of the consequences of not behaving in a store. Not that I want her to grow up faster, I really don't, it's just really difficult to care for a three year old in a body that's twice her age, in size but not in maturity.
So. Today I am taking the child to one of those paint-your-own-ceramics stores. Please, please, dear Universe, let my child behave herself.
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