I'm {not} loving it

Some days I wish I had a ripcord. Or an option to take a blue or red pill. Or the ability to safe-surrender my four year old without getting arrested. If during the tensest of standoffs with Sawyer I was able to just remove myself from the situation, I'd probably be able to save myself a ton of anxiety and stress...and him a lot of money on adult therapy.

Case in point. Today, I thought I'd be an even more awesome mom than I already am and take the kids to McDonald's for lunch. But not just any McDonald's. No, I wasn't just going to force their tiny bodies to ingest pink slime after hitting up the drive-thru. I was going to take them to a McDonald's, dine there and it was a McDonald's with a Playplace. Yes. I said it. A Playplace. The worst invention ever and, in my opinion, the reason that there is flesh-eating bacteria on this planet. If I NEVER go back, it will be too soon.

Sawyer has been begging me to go to a McDonald's with a Playplace and I finally caved and decided today would be the day. Big mistake. Huge. Catastrophic.

Why!? Oh, because once we finished our pink slime-infused chicken nuggets, and the kids got to play at the Playplace and it was time to go, Sawyer decided he'd found his new happy place at the TOP of the Playplace tower and basically gave me the middle finger. Yes, that's right. Sawyer climbed to the top of the tower, sat down and told me to eff off. In so many words. He basically called BS on me and knew that there was no way in hell I was going to climb into the tiny tunnel ladder and crawl my ass up to the top of that tower and drag his ass down.

Let me just go on record here and say that if you could have seen the look on my face and if my face could talk without saying a word, here's what it would have said:

"Sawyer Colt, you climb your little ass down that tower now or, so help me God, you are going to spend the rest of your life in a full-body cast."

And here's where I really needed the ripcord/blue pill/whooo-za/deep breathing option...HE WOULDN'T EFFING COME DOWN. Swear.

So there I am. Gritting my teeth. Armpits sweating. Saxon Crying. Cursing. And the ENTIRE McDonald's Playplace area watching me.

In case I haven't set the scene well enough. Here's a glimpse into the conversation I was having with myself in my head.

Don't panic. He'll come down. Right!? He's not coming down. Panic. Fuck. Shit. I'm claustrophobic. Can I even fit in that tunnel ladder? I certainly can't fit in that tunnel ladder while I'm holding the baby. Who in the Playplace area is not a recently released convict that I can trust to hold the baby while I go fish Sawyer out of the tower. {looks around}. No one. Fuck. Shit. McDonald's with Playplaces should really serve wine just like California Adventure does at Disneyland. Shit. He's still up there.

"Sawyer, get DOWN here."

He's still not coming down. Fuck it. I'm leaving him here.

"Sawyer, I'm leaving."

{Screams}

"Rylan, go get your brother."

Rylan won't go. She's scared of the tunnel and flesh-eating bacteria too. Fuck.

And so it went. For about 20 minutes. I've now spent approximately19 minutes more than I've ever wanted to spend at a McDonald's Playplace. And now I'm certain that the B.O. I'm smelling is mine. It's a full-on stand off. Sawyer knows that if he comes down, his ass is such grass that it actually behooves him to stay up there.

He's going to boarding school. No. Worse. Military school. Actually, I wonder if they'd take him at Juvenile Hall. This is a crime, right!? Having a stand-off with your mother in the McDonald's Playplace tower has to be a crime, right!?

Sweaty. On the verge of tears and down one less child because I'd lost him to the grips of the McDonald's Playplace tower, I gave up. I had no fight left.

Much to my surprise, a sweet and wonderful 7-year old girl {whom I later volunteered to swap for Sawyer} said, "I'll go get him for you." Omg. I think she was actually wearing a halo. That girl crawled up to the top, showed Sawyer how fun it was to go down the slide and down he came. Right into the arms of an abusive mother. I could have killed him right then and there. Of course, I composed myself and we walked out like nothing had ever happened.

Whatever McDonald's Playplace. I own this shit. Same time next week? Done. Ok, maybe not that confident. But it went something like that.

Oh Sawyer. Bless your heart.