The Playground Walk of Shame

We've all done it.  You're bold faced lying if you say you haven't.  The Playground Walk of Shame.  And if it hasn't been the playground per se, then it's been the Target Walk of Shame, The Chickfila Walk of Shame, the Dentist Office Walk of Shame. Yes, even the Church Pickup Walk of Shame.

Oh Mommas... Today I did it. 

Nothing like a good old fashioned head down, plow your quickest way to the car with screaming child in tow to make you want to hightail it to the nearest empty parking to let those giant crocodile tears roll. 

Your own.... not your kid's.  They've done enough crying already. 

You're probably thinking the child culprit was my three-year-old.  Nope.  Try the seven-year-old.  Yeah... the one who is suppose to be sugar and spice and everything nice.  Well, let me set the scene for you. 

We've reached the point in our summer where everyone is D.O.N.E.  I can't entertain one more day in this bloody heat.  And my kids are looking at me like if I pull out one more board game they might just start chucking Monopoly houses at me. A slight exaggeration but if you are a parent of school age kids then you just "get it".   And school doesn't start for ANOTHER. TWO. WEEKS.  Lord, help me. 

So this morning, in an effort to throw a game changer into the mix, I loaded us up and we headed to the local park.  Upon arriving, my daughter immediately ran to the gymnastics bars.  Her pretty pink dress flowing in the wind behind her....

Did you catch that?  She had her heart set on doing the gymnastics bars in a DRESS. 

One flip around the bars and I had to pull my Mean Mom Card.  "Sorry sweet girl, you can't do the bars today.  You're showing every boy your underwear."  And really, can you blame me?  As I'm watching all of this unfold, all I can hear in my head is that mean old song sung by playground bullies, "I see London... I see France..."  A momma's gotta' protect. 

Now, the back story to this whole saga that's about to go down is that my daughter believes whole-heartedly that SHE IS DESTINED for the Fab Five 2024 Olympic Gymnast Team.  There is no talking her out of it.  It's a done deal friends.  We just have to first find her the best coach in the Mile High City and fork over all of our extra cash for the next eight years to get her there...

Every single spare moment of this girl's life is spent watching the Olympics, practicing her flips and landings, coercing her little brother into being her headstand judge....  #Thanksimone.

So, when it was realized that her dreams of Olympic stardom were suddenly crashing down around her -- all because of a park date planned poorly-- all hell broke loose.  Seriously.  It was like this girl had never spent a day hearing about Jesus in her life. 

I was mortified.  You see, maybe it's just me... but I think it's a tad more socially acceptable for toddlers to throw park tantrums.  But when your school aged child starts to wail and flail,  the judgmental momma looks... oh, they start flying.

What went on next was just plain embarrassing.  A whole lot of hysterical whailing, some shouting and a few "Worst mom ever", daggers thrown my way.  Ouch kid.  Really?  Worst mom ever?  I realized pretty quickly that this was just not my battle to fight.  It was either going to be me against the inappropriately dressed Aly Raisman wannabe or me against the momma in her perfectly crafted top knot and slim fitting, pink yoga pants.  We were hightailing it home. FAST. 

I arrived home and promptly inhaled an entire box of Kraft Mac N' Cheese.  Yes. An entire box.  I refuse to bear more shame.  I plan to laugh about all of this here shortly.

To the Mommas who were with me at this popular Denver kid hangout this morning... I will not incriminate myself further by telling you which popular park this was.  But I will say that I'm sorry you had to witness my messy motherhood on display for all to see this morning.

Today was further proof that some days I just need to be humbled and reminded that I don't have it all together.  Nope.  Not even seven years in. I'm joking friends... None of us will ever have it all together.  Not even the kids that we expect to be perfect and Stepford like. 

And to the Mommas who, just like me, did the Walk of Shame this morning.... somewhere, in another park or establishment, in another city, in another state or country....

Let's fist bump.  Solidarity sisters. Somewhere out there, there's another momma who just annihilated a box of processed, chemical ridden Mac N' Cheese and needs to know that there's no shame in it because somehow it made her Playground Walk of Shame a little more redeemed. 

You are a boss Momma. 

Here's what you need to know and take away from this...

Today's Walk of Shame was merely just preparation for the smile and the encouragement that you are going to give to tomorrow's momma.  

Because tomorrow, you'll be the one at the playground watching another momma do her Walk of Shame. 

Tomorrow, you are going to smile at her.  You are going to whisper a, "You're doing great!"  You are going to make sure she knows that she is doing a good job.  She didn't ask for the playground tantrum.  And neither did you. 

So, make it darn clear that she's a boss at this motherhood thing.  Playground Walk of Shame and all.