We all know her. She's the one who looks at you when you try and give her child something like you are a total and complete idiot who doesn't know a thing about kids. And, before you had kids, you would look back at her like she needed to get a grip on reality. You wanted to say to her "it really doesn't matter if the red fruit touches the orange fruit...your child can cope". But, you kept your mouth shut because you knew that someday, you might have your own child, and empowered by that knowledge, something deep down inside you told you it was better to separate the two pieces of fruit and then pass the previously offensive plate to her child.
And now, you (ahem I), am so glad I did not roll my eyes at that mom and offer my poignant advice to her. On the flight to Rhode Island, Ed, Connor, and I all had drinks. Starting a few weeks ago, Connor has decided he does not like ice, and refuses to drink anything with ice in it. I have, of course, used this to my advantage, and now put a few cubes of ice in almost everything I drink just so he keeps out. Ed, however, has apparently not been privvy to Connor's ice protests and on the plane, he blew it. Ed combined his remaining ice with Connor's ice free apple juice. When he made this bold move, I looked at him in a panic. And I said to him, as if I was JFK speaking to Khrushchev during the Cuban Missile Crisis, "you just put ICE in Connor's drink". And Ed looked at me like "yeah?", and I hissed at him, "Connor does not like ice in his drink". And all I could think about was the fact that we were trapped on a small plane with an occasionally irrational toddler who may look up at any moment and notice his drink had been tainted with the dreaded ice, and all hell could easily break loose. And I, of course, would be the one that had to deal with the aftermath.
And it was then that I realized, I was her. The crazy mom who thought the entire world should bend to please her toddler, even if his requests were completely insane.