call me pathetic

Last week I thought it was about time Jonah and I went back to story time at the library. It had been months. Now he's considered a Tiny Tot (code word for toddler) and so he gets to mingle with one- to two-year-olds.

By the time we got out of the house, plowed our way through crosstown traffic, found parking, and raced the stroller over to the library, it was five minutes past the beginning of story time. Not only did we get there late, the room was full and they weren't letting anyone else in. I was so looking forward to Jonah interacting with other little tots and so was he. He stood there listening to the children behind the heavy wooden door, leaning on it as if he wanted to push it open, his eyes wide open looking up at me quizzically.

"We can't go in," I told him, scooped him up, and sat him down in the stroller. Let's go to the park instead. For some reason I felt so sad and rejected that tears started rolling down my cheeks on our way out of there. Did I revert back to my tiny tot stage? What was this spell the library had cast on me? Call me pathetic. I guess we all have our odd "boo hoo" moments. That was mine.

This week I was not going to get squeezed out. I made sure we were so early that we turned out to be the first ones there. We were so early, in fact, that the library was still closed. Jonah and I paced back and forth on the sidewalk until a shabby looking man - did he work at the library or was he a homeless volunteer? - opened the door. First ones on the list, first ones there. And I was glad, since Jonah thoroughly enjoyed himself. We sang I'm So Glad to See You, I Almost Couldn't Wait; Toes, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes; The Noble Duke of York, and many other favorites. There were bubbles flying through the air. Fortunately the toys stayed on the floor or in children's hands. I was waiting for that stray block to come flying, but the tiny tots are perhaps a little too tiny to be interested in that sort of stuff. The content of the giraffe book the librarian passed around for us to read to our toddlers didn't interest Jonah. Not as much as the phone jacks on the wall anyways. The only part of the book worth his attention was the circular opening on the front of it, sort of like a window into the book. Holes! That's his thing.

On the way back, Jonah fell asleep in the car. A morning well-spent.