Mom O'The Year

That would be me.

Last Saturday, Brian had some things to do around the house, so I decided to take Charlotte and Jensen to the library. We had lots of books to return and we were in desperate need of some new reading material for story time. The trip started out great...parked the car, loaded both kids into the stroller, grabbed the books we were there to return, and headed into the library.

Things went wrong as we entered the first set of double doors into the library foyer. Maybe I was feeling just a bit too smug at the ease with which I'd unloaded both kids from the minivan and into their stroller (even in a tight parking spot...thank you, sliding doors!). Maybe I was a tad too excited about being at the library...after all, I do love the library (yes I'm serious). More than likely, it was the simple fact that I was trying to hold lots of books, open the door to the library, and keep the door held open all the while trying to squeeze myself plus the double stroller into a doorway that probably gave us half an inch of leeway on either side.

Whatever it was, I was distracted. Too distracted to notice Charlotte's left arm hanging out of the stroller...and the fact that, as the rest of us (and all our body parts) made it through the door, Charlotte's arm stayed outside.

It's kind of hard to describe, but basically her arm was straight out from her body at a 90 degree angle, and it was bent backwards. She, of course, screamed and I pushed the stroller back so that her arm would un-bend, and I got us all through the door and lifted Charlotte (still screaming) out of the stroller. We weren't in the main library yet; we still had another set of doors to go through before we got there. We were still in the foyer--good news because we weren't "officially" in the library; bad news because the foyer echoes. Charlotte's screams (which are already impressively loud) were seriously magnified. Jensen, bless his little heart, just sat in his stroller looking bewildered while I tried to calm Charlotte down. People walked in and out of the library, just going about their business as I tried not to cry because I felt so terrible. One lady, who had seen the entire thing, said something along the lines of "Awww, poor thing." For some reason, this did not strike me as the best thing to say...how about adding a, "She'll be okay" to the end of that? Or, here's a thought, asking if I needed any help?

Anyways. Charlotte eventually calmed down and I knew she was fine. (I know my girl, and I know that at least a few of those screams were for dramatic effect.) But I also knew she would not stand for being put back into her stroller just yet. So I carried Charlotte in one hand and pushed Jensen in the stroller with the other. We made our way to the next set of doors and, just as I started to wonder how the heck I was going to get us all through, a little girl inside the library saw us and practically ran to open the door for us. It was so nice...I made sure to not only thank her, but to tell her mom what a sweet little girl she had.

The rest of our library visit was uneventful. I (very carefully) managed to put Charlotte back into her stroller so that we could pick out some books. We said hello to our library friends (who assured me that they did not hear the banshee-like screaming coming from the foyer). And when our visit was over, we made it back out the doors (thanks to Pam holding them open for us!) and into the car, all limbs intact.

So, I know that stuff like this happens. And Charlotte is totally fine. But it's the first time it'd happened to me in public. Having twins means you get all kinds of "looks": Curious looks, strange looks, sympathetic looks. But this was the first time I'd gotten the OMG-what-is-that-woman-doing-to-that-child-should-we-call-CPS look. I've gotta say, it was no fun.

Oh, and the other funny part? As I was picking out books for the babies to check out, I was obviously pretty preoccupied with what had just happened. I usually make an effort to pick books that I think will make for fun story times, but this time I seem to have made it home with some interesting choices. Here's the best one...

Nabeel's New Pants: An Eid Tale. Retold by Fawzia Gilani-Williams.

Er...what? I honestly have no recollection of picking up that book or checking it out. Nor do I have any idea what exactly an "Eid" tale is. Hey, I guess we can say that even though some of my parenting skills may be lacking, at least I am teaching my babies about other cultures, right?