I Am a Magnet for Insanity

Update: So, at pajama time this evening, when I took off Ess' pants and underwear, there was a cigarette butt stuck to her rear end. I kid you not. Fabulousest. Also, I reread this post and I sound grumpy. I'm having a great time in D.C. At the most expensive bagel place in the universe, I had a fantastic cream cheese and lox bagel. The joy. Where I live, in the arctic boondocks, locks are for locking doors. Period. You do not put them on bagels. As if you could find a decent bagel.

I only made it a week on the 'no posting' thing. Pathetic. But, I'm not commenting and I'm barely reading blogs right now, so feel free to ignore me completely like I'm still not here until October. As I promised. I lie.

This morning I had a brilliant idea. Aha. We had no plans, so I decided to take the kids down to the National Mall. I thought they could run around and soak in our nation's monuments to old white men (I jest) and I wanted to see the World War II memorial again.

Once upon a time, I knew D.C. I worked right downtown. Today, I had absolutely no clue what I was doing. I thought I remembered that you could park at meters on Constitution Avenue, right next to the park and the memorials of my desires. Maybe you can. Who knows because I couldn't effing get any where near there between the one way streets and the no-left-turns except on Fridays at 8:00 p.m. and the ginormous buses in my line of vision.

That's after the heart-stopping drive in from Virginia on an eight lane highway. I haven't driven in that kind of traffic in five years. My heart started pounding unhealthily during the merge onto I-395 and it is just now resuming a normal rhythm four hours later in my parent's house, which I may not leave again.

Anyway, we're downtown and I can't get where I want to go, so I head for my old office, mainly because I know how to park near there. I find a Starbucks and toss some doughnuts at the kids to keep them happy while I call a friend whose still works at my old firm, but she's not in yet. Eh? DC power lawyer not in at 9:45 in the morning? Did I miss hell freezing over this week?

Then, I ponder. We're a mile at least from the National Mall. It's craziness to try and walk there, pushing my crap travel stroller with Ess and Gee holding onto the bars on either side. Even I am not that dumb.

I think, we'll walk toward the White House and find a little park. They can chase some pigeons, which makes them extremely happy, and maybe my friend will make it to work, which would make me extremely happy.

Twenty feet later, waiting for the walk light at a crosswalk, I notice that Ess is standing with her legs crossed and her hand in her crotch. "Momma," she states the obvious, "I have to pee-pee." Fabulous. Why did I not ask her at Starbucks? Someone revoke my mommy badge, I have committed a federal offense.

I've got nothing. Across the street, a block away, I can see a little bench area with like five straggly trees and a patch of fenced-in grass. I head for it. I'm totally planning to let my kid pee in the grass patch. Don't judge me, it was that kind of morning.

The bench area is dirtier than I thought, when we arrive and I can perform surveillance, but she's seconds from losing control of her bladder. The grass is less accessible than I imagine. Behind the benches, under some sickly looking bushes, there is a mixture of approximately thirty percent wood chips and seventy percent cigarette butts. I let her drop trou and pee in cigarette butt mulch. Fabulouser. I would have liked to do the same, because I was pretty desperate myself, but, not so much. Possibility of arrest and all.

Meanwhile, Cue is wallowing on the filthy concrete under the benches and Gee has found a plastic trash bag on the ground and has it wrapped around his neck. "It's my scarf, momma, do you like my scarf?" Yes darling, and it's recycled too, just moments ago it was a poor, filthy, homeless man's bed. How environmentally aware of you.

Abort mission. Red alert. Abort mission. Go home you colossal idiot. I corral them and restrap and reinstruct in not letting go of the stroller under any circumstances and we start the seven block trek back to the parking garage. That's right, seven blocks in two hours. Don't even judge me. Wait. I haven't hit the best part yet.

Two blocks later, we wait to cross at the intersection of Pennsylvania and some other massive five lane avenue. Buses and delivery trucks careen by us and efficient, well dressed business people and lawyers and bureaucrats push passed us, rolling their eyes. Don't roll your eyes at me, worker people!! I used to be you, but more efficient and better dressed. I used to own the efficient walk. I used to not care that there is a little second counter on the walk signs in D.C. that counts down the minute that you are allotted to cross a busy, five lane street. It never occurred to me that it could actually take longer than a minute to cross a street. Aha. Live and learn.

This woman, older than me, professionally dressed, pulls up beside us and starts making eyes at Ess. She smiles. Ess primps and peeks and plays hard to get. Professional lady smiles at me. I smile tightly and remind Ess not to let go of the stroller. It takes major focus for me, the stroller, Ess and Gee to make it across five lanes in sixty seconds. We don't have room for distraction. The light changes, it's go time. "Hold the stroller, pay attention, we need to walk quickly," I tell them.

Every thing is fine. We're moving forward appropriately. They are holding. Nothing drops. No one falls. I'm good. Then, about five feet into the street, with four lanes to go and forty remaining seconds ticking away, pain in the ass lady, from two feet in front of us, smiles pleasantly and HOLDS OUT HER HAND TO ESS. Blatantly. There is no mistake. She holds out her hand to her in the middle of the street, enticing her away from the stroller where I have CLEARLY and REPEATEDLY instructed her to stay. She let's go immediately, because she's Ess and I love her, but she considers any other adult's invitation a test of my authority, and she runs AWAY FROM ME IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET TO TAKE THIS IDIOTIC STRANGER LADY'S HAND.

Universe, where do you find these people and why do you send them to me? What have I done? How do I make penance? My daughter and I are insanity magnets. We attract crazy people. You know what, I'm not even looking for validation or explanations here. Because ?. No. !!! Just no. !!! You do not do that. Which is what I yelled at the woman in the middle of the street. Unkindly. Because, $(l&w?? What the (&*#? I can't even form a coherent thought on the subject.

Just !!. !!!!!. !!!.

Gah. !!!.

Noon melt down occurred shortly thereafter and I had to feed them the most expensive bagels in the history of the universe before I could pay my exorbitant parking fee and take them home.

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Parking in downtown D.C. $16.00. Starbucks (w/treats for kids) $9.00. Lunch for kids $10.00. Treatment for heart damage $70,000. Anti-anxiety meds $30.00/month. Bladder damage $5000. Frustration and suffering $3 million. Not seeing the National Mall with your three children three-years-old or younger - $3,075,056.00. Not worth it.