On some days, I find it particularly ironic that my blog is titled "Not the Only One". The truth is, most of the time, I do feel like the only one. I go to the park, and I feel like the only one whose kids frequently take off and cause the whole group of mothers I'm with to send out a search party. I'm the only one whose kids won't sit down and eat their lunch like civilized human beings before they run off to play on the playground (or in the fountain that's in the yard of the house across the street, depending on the day).
Here I am with all these other mothers, whose docile children obey immediately, while mine seem to either be deaf or just deaf to me (I know I have a quiet voice, but come on--they really can't hear me when they're three feet away?!) I take them to Burger King, and I'm pretty sure I'm the only one whose son is alternately screaming because he has to share the barbecue sauce with his brother and climbing on the top part of the booth seats. And after that he is absolutely certain that his toy car is hot and needs to cool off by taking a swim in my drink cup. I say NO. Commence second (or is it fourth?) round of screaming. Later, he thinks it's a good idea to run out into the parking lot instead of getting in the van when I tell him to. I am beginning to wonder if they speak a different language, in spite of the many signs that they do in fact speak and understand English.
I feel like the only one. Who knows, it may be true. That, or I am so busy trying to keep track of my own kids and keep them quiet and semi-obedient, that I don't notice anyone else's child being bad, screaming, or running away. I really couldn't say for sure which it is.
What I do know is that on those rare occasions when I go somewhere alone, and I hear a child screaming, I sigh in relief, knowing that it is not my child, and I don't have to do anything about it.