Little hands in a coffee shop

This morning I took my three-year-old on a mommy-son Starbucks date.

(This is where you say AWWW.)

little hands in a coffee shop

Now that we got that out of the way, let me tell you how this really went down. (Because I just can’t have you thinking that I’m some amazingly intentional super-mom.)

I vaguely remember waking up at 0430 because my husband awoke suddenly and said Ezra was crying. I fumbled with the baby monitor but didn’t hear anything. He came back a moment later mumbling that he was just hearing things. I went back to sleep.

The next thing I know it’s 0600 and once again I awake suddenly, this time to the sound of my husband retching in the bathroom. I fumble with my pajamas and rush into the kitchen to get him a glass of water. Because if there’s anything that pregnancy taught me is that there are two things necessary for a puke-fest: 1) a glass of water and 2) a pony tail holder. But, as my husband doesn’t need #2… water it was.

While I was getting Russ the water, I heard Ezra jump out of bed and say “Daddy? What’s wrong? Whatcha’ doin?” (Ezra’s room shares doors with both the living room / kitchen area of our apartment and the bathroom.) I pass the glass of water into the bathroom without looking or saying anything but “here’s some water;” then go back around to the living-room side of Ezra’s room to get him out so that Russ can puke in peace. I mumble to Ezra that now daddy has the bugs in his tummy (Ezra had them earlier this week) and return to sit on my bed so I can take my basal body temperature, a first-thing-in-the-morning necessity.

All of this happened before the clock hit 0605.

Good morning, Beautiful…my foot.

Russ emerged from the bathroom to lay on the couch and asked Ezra to come watch a show, which I resisted because I had the bright idea to start our no-Netflix-for-at-least-a-week experiment YESTERDAY.

(That’s what we call “Murphy’s Law” or maybe “Bad Karma.”)

I caved in and tried not to think about the 20 minutes of Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood that were ruining my experiment to reduce media usage and teach Ezra to develop more independent playing skills.

Stupid stomach flu ruining my intentional mothering experiments…

I upgraded my pajama pants to stretch pants and threw on a sweatshirt over my pajama top, printed off the $10 Starbucks gift card that Kathryn sent me, put clothes on Ezra, and started out in the thunder, lighting, and rain for the CVS a mile down the road.

The seven o’clock hour found me wandering the aisles at CVS like this:


Now let me tell you a little something about shopping judgment at 7am:


I don’t have any. 

I spent $53.54 on a handful of things including two different brands of ginger-ale (because I couldn’t decide which one to buy), two wooden puzzles (that I’m sure were overpriced), Alka-Seltzer (which took me 15 minutes to find), overpriced Campbell’s soup, overpriced Jello, overpriced macaroni and cheese, contact solution (which wasn’t the same brand which I normally buy, because, well, I couldn’t remember what kind I normally buy), mouthwash, MnMs, and a lone Cadbury Egg that Ezra grabbed and started unwrapping before I could stop him.

Frugality for the win.

We exited CVS and Ezra promptly sat down on the wet pavement in front of the store. (Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know.)

Then when I told him to stand up, he ran into the parking lot – which, thankfully, was empty. But, as my hands were full of bags of overpriced merchandise, I couldn’t chase him, so ended up just screaming for him to stop and hoping he didn’t get hit by a car or lighting – or both.

We made it to the Starbucks (which I called “the date store”) a block over, where it took me 3 minutes to park because I realized too late there was a good spot and didn’t turn the wheel hard enough and ended up between two spots and then had to correct and recorrect and overcorrect and undercorrect and look like a dumb woman driver just to get into one of the spots instead of two. I got Ezra out of the car (it was still pouring) and stood there at the door while he got soaked jumping in puddles. Finally we made it into the store, where I ordered a chai tea latte with vanilla and plopped Ezra and myself down at a table. I opened the bag to get the MnMs and found the banana that I had put there an hour earlier and promptly forgotten about.

I gave it to Ezra and asked him to smile for a picture.

little hands in a coffee shop

Then I decided it was time to break out the MnMs.

little hands in a coffee shop

I asked Ezra what he wanted to talk about. He looked at me blankly. Then he told me, “This isn’t the date store, this is the coffee store. Why did you call it the date store?”

I gave him an answer, but for the life of me I can’t remember what it was.

Then he asked me for “the football chocolate that we got at the sick store” and I told him that it was in the car. He asked if I could go get it.

I looked around the empty restaurant, looked out to the car in the good parking spot completely visible from our seats, told Ezra to stand by the window where I could see him, and made a mad dash for it.

(Note to self: rename blog post “that time I left my child alone in Starbucks so I could get a Cadbury Egg out of my car.”)

I waved to him from the car, where I got both the egg and one of the puzzles I had bought him. (Stroke of genius.)

Gave Ezra his egg, which he didn’t like (which I knew he wouldn’t like)…

starbucks date 3

Then I got an even more genius-y idea to do color sorting with MnMs and the puzzle.

This lasted long enough for me to take about three pictures. Then he dumped all of the pieces.

little hands in a coffee shop

Made Ezra the Starbucks King:

little hands in a coffee shop

Broke out the Cheddar Bunnies. Decided to play checkers with Cheddar Bunnies and MnMs; but as I started to set it up, I realized that, not only did I not remember how to set up the board, I didn’t remember how to play checkers.

So I just rotated MnMs and Cheddar Bunnies on the squares. Then Ezra made the Bunnies eat the MnMs.

little hands in a coffee shop

Let’s see…what else? There were Cheddar Bunnies and MnMs that got dropped in the “Caution, Wet Floor” cone. There was some three-year-old dancing to a song, until he grabbed a shiny red ceramic coffee mug as a dance partner that I had to rescue.

Then I downloaded some Bible stories onto my iPhone and we read Daniel and the lions den and a Nativity story.

Then we did the puzzles again, this time, upside-down (his idea, not mine).

little hands in a coffee shop

Did you know that you can’t put a parallelogram puzzle piece upside-down because it won’t fit?

little hands in a coffee shop

The puzzle got dumped again and then Mommy had to be a pirate.

I had to say Argh!

starbucks date 9

Then it was time to go which meant wrestling Ezra onto the floor of Starbucks to get his coat on while he yelled that he didn’t want to go.

And more puddle jumping on the way out the door.

I could fill another whole post about the rest of the day, because it just got worse (or better – depending on how humorous you find a bedraggled mom chasing her barefooted three-year-old Tazmanian Devil through the mall or rescuing his jacket from the mail chute at the post office), but we shall leave that for another day because I need to go make sure Ezra eats his wicked-healthy, satisfying dinner…

…of strawberries and Teddy Grams.

8 thoughts on “Little hands in a coffee shop

  1. If there is one thing I have learned in the past few months, it is to embrace the rain rather than fight it. A friend of mine posted a story on Facebook about a little girl telling her mother she wanted to walk in the rain rather than running away from it because it’s coming from God. Further, our youth pastor spoke to the kids about splashing our face with water and it can symbolize a mini-baptism if we need a little cleaning. I now see the rain as a gift from God, washing us clean because He believes we need it.

    I also understand the *it’s way too early to be out doing errands with young children and this is what insanity feels like*. ;)

  2. Pingback: Dear January | Beautiful In His Time

I would love to hear from you and welcome your comments! If you prefer not to comment publicly, you can feel free to contact me via email at All comments are sent to myself for review before they are posted publicly, so I can stay organized and respond individually to each them. Your comment will be visible after it is approved.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s