I think I’m a bad Emmy.  Thursday I picked the Precious up from daycare.   That goes back to Sunday when he cried because I didn’t go home with him and I said that I would pick him up from school one day this week and I did and now you are caught up.  I picked him up in the Duchess mobile, top down and Hot Potatoblaring from all speakers.  This was one happy kid.  We got home and the ice cream truck was right in front of my house.  Score!!  He got a vanilla cup with sprinkles.  We sat on the weeee!! (swingset…for those of you who don’t speak precious) and ate ice cream.  Then we did chalk drawings on the driveway.  We then tackled some Easter chocolate and some oreos and then we went out back to dribble, dribble, shoot!  The neighbor kids across the fence were playing baseball and I put the Precious on my shoulders so he could watch the game over the fence.  The kiddos gave him a baseball (like he doesn’t have 1,000 inside) then we played catch.  We blew bubbles and dandelions, and pulled weeds, and found a birds nest.  We wallowed around on old pool toys and took a walk to the neighbors and played some t-ball at my very dear, very southern friend’s home.  When mommy came to take him home, the Precious decided he wasn’t going.  My non-vag. daughter thought if she pretended to go without him he would come to his senses.  This has always worked in the past.  The Precious loves to go.  She waved bye-bye and went inside.  “Bye-bye mommy,” he said as he turned around and started playing again.  She walked back out.  “No mommy!  Mommy bye-bye!” was shouted at a pitch that startled the neighborhood dogs.  She gave him a few more minutes.  Forty-five minutes later (when it was too dark and cold to play ball) I told the Precious I needed some juice.  We went inside to get juice.    When mommy came at him with a jacket he could see the trap.  Arms stiffened, spine straightened, and screaming started.  “No jacket, no jacket, no bye-bye, no bye-bye, no daddy, no house!”  This was what I went through on Sunday that made me tell him I would pick him up at school one day if he would just chill out.  Like an idiot I catch myself saying again “If you will go with mommy now, Emmy will pick you up at school again tomorrow.  Okay?”  His little red eyes and cheeks and snot filled nose looked pitifully up at me as he lisped “Yeth.”  He still cried when I put him in his car seat and I didn’t get in with him.

His mother swore on Sunday he didn’t cry for very long.  Last night he cried all the way home and until he had his bath.  I picked him up from school today.  I thought I had a plan.  I didn’t take him to my house.  I took him to an indoor play area called Fun City.  He was able to swing and slide and play little toddler games and use tokens to “buy” toys.  After that we went to see his great granny.  He ransacked her house in about two seconds.  He found her Easter candy and chomped his way through anything Reese’s, then he tried to unpack anything she had previously packed and left two feet high or less.  He played basketball.  Indoors and without a net, but basketball all the same.  He picked apart the fridge and opened everything that looked interesting and ate nothing.  After about three hours of trying my best to just wear him out I asked him if he wanted to go bye-bye.  “Yeth.”  So I placed him in the car seat (after we had a brief discussion over who was going to dribe…no typo…it’s really dribe) and headed toward his house. 

When I turned right at the light instead of left.  He looked a little confused.  When I turned right to go down the street to get to his he looked pissed.  When I pulled up in front of his house he left me have it with both barrels. “Bad Emmy.  No Emmy.  No My House!  Emmy’s House.  Boppy!   Boppy’s House!  My Shoot!”  It might as well have been on a loop because it was just over and over and over again.  I told him I was going in and he settled down.  I gave him a bag to carry and wiped his perpetually runny nose, and off we went.  He rang the bell.  I think he was hoping no one was home and we could split.  No such luck, his dad answered the door.  He played close to me for awhile.  He was keeping me in sight.  Once his mother got home they told him they were going to a friend’s house that evening and he got really excited.  I thought, great this is just the excuse I need, I can go home now.  Wrong!  When I said bye all hell broke loose.  He was going with me.  Now first of all, I would have slipped out without saying good bye, but my son, the genius, shouts to the world “bye Emmy.”  Idiot.  The screaming begins and the only thing left for me to do is stay until they leave in the hopes that he will be okay since he is leaving too.  When everyone is ready to go to their respective places I pick him up to take him to mommy’s car.  Problem 1: We go by Emmy’s car.  Problem 2: We don’t get in Emmy’s car.  Problem 3: Emmy doesn’t get in mommy’s car.  The sturdy little toddler legs stiffen straight out as I try to press them into his car seat.  He screams and shakes his head.  This is a toddler who was born knowing how to pitch a hissy…a ring tail hissy.  Let me tell you, I pulled a bull rider.  I gave it 8 seconds threw up my hands and walked out of there.  I told my son, “I had to do this through three toddlers.  You handle this one.”  I got in my car.  “Chicken” he taunted after me.  “Ass” I yelled back at him.  I didn’t even dare check back with them until two days later.

Well today is Monday the 20th.  I went over tonight to have a little play time before bedtime.  We had been playing pretty good.  I had to watch a short quarter of Precious basketball.  I watched him drive his 4-wheeler.  I pretty much watched the Precious show until it was time for dinner.  When mommy called for dinner he pulled my keys out of my purse and said “dribe Emmy.”  I asked where we were going.  “Bye-bye.”  I felt kind of dumb.  I mean bye-bye was the obvious answer, but when I asked where he wanted to go he said “ice tream!”  I managed to barter a few bites of real food before we had to get ice cream but his daddy wanted  ice tream as much as he did so off we went.   After ice tream, and the inevitable bath, came p.j.s and bedtime and I would be lying if I told you that went peacefully.  No way.  He went out kicking and screaming with about a thousand kisses and hugs and attempts to get out of the crib…but no promises.  I’ve finally learned.

This is what makes me a bad Emmy.  I will do whatever it takes to make that little guy happy.  I hate to see him cry.  He has one of the best laughs ever and he is so darn cute when he smiles.  But that bad attitude (while sometimes it can be cute) is best avoided…if you know what’s good for you.  I have told his parent’s they need to pick their battles.  Some things just aren’t worth fighting for, but then again you do have to get your bluff in.  I don’t know.  I do know that when he runs to me and throws those chubby little arms around me and screams “Emmy” like I’m the best thing since sliced bread…he can pretty much have whatever he wants…and Boppy is worse!!