Aiden nagged to go play putt putt this morning.
I wasn’t ready yet, queue drama. Then I was ready he wasn’t. Queue more drama. Throw in some “my head hurts, I can’t move my legs, Mommy is the worst, mommy is the best, pick me up, I’m hungry but not for food, for sweets, I AM dressed for the beach (in thick black tracksuit pants and black high tops sure buddy sure) … blah blah blah” It went on like this for most of the morning until finally we hit the road after 1pm. 🙈 It was all going great (ish) – play any sport with Aiden and your definition of a good time is that the kids are still alive and you haven’t been arrested for using indecent language at an unacceptably high level in a public/family area.
Then I went and got a hole in one. Faaaark. 😫
And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Ava, his baby sister went and got a hole in one. Seriously! 😩😩
McEnroe had nothing, nothing on this lightly. We were running out of holes, time, patience (where are those little white pills when you really need them?) However, the tears and drop lips were plentiful. The evening flashed before my eyes like Nighmare on Elm Street.
Yes it was sunny, but the wind was nippy. I had goose bumps and yet I was sure I had sweat beads on my forehead.
I had been trying my best not whack him with a golf club but rather explain that, with his current attitude, of course he wasn’t going to get a hole in one. It was about having fun, enjoying the game. And if he did want to “beat us” – and we are talking about me who couldn’t care less as long as kids are enjoying it and mostly purposefully trying to throw my game, and Ava, who was holding the club like a croquet mallet and only connecting on every 4th attempt IF we were lucky, kicking the ball and sometimes just walking up and pushing it with her hands. (yes she really did get a complete fluke hole in one)- then he would need to change his attitude, stop dragging his lip and club on the floor and really give it best.
First shot… shit.
Ok Aiden, practice shot out the way. “Do it properly this time my boy. Love u 😁” – that fake smile parents get when they want others to think they are really enjoying an afternoon of putt putt with an 8 year old and a 4 year old, who by the way is now desperate to turn 5. Wtf. 🤷♀️
Can you effing believe it? He actually managed a hole in one on the last hole.
OMFG for small miracles.
Of course we had to make a huge song and dance about it even though when I did mine all I got was a death stare. Ava got a stomping-off-to-sulk reaction and some mumbling about how unfair life is.
Can you imagine what life would be like at home where his Mom and little sister both got holes in one and he didn’t. Either way it doesn’t matter, he pulled a shot out his ass and freaking did it.
I was more relieved than proud I have to admit.
Phew… I gotta tell ya, I am looking forward to the working week. Much less stressful.
First thing on my list will be to arrange play dates and back up play dates for all the weekends until the end of the year.
Heelllooo Monday 😀
Putt-putt perfectly sorted
Any potential play date parents reading this, it’s ok. Aiden is lovely, promise. He’s only like this with me. Apparently it’s because he feels safe and comfortable and some other warm and fuzzy bull that I have totally bought into. There’s even a motivation quote being reposted on Facebook about this kind of thing. Let me go find it quick. I promise, for reals.
Pictured Below: Ava and I on the beach chillaxing. Then the kids having a lovely swim. Nothing of our Putt-putt Arvo activity.