Mont Royal

My lovely cousin has been visiting from the USA. I decided that we should take her up to the look-out point on the mountain at the centre of our beloved metropolis. (Incidentally, this is also the spot where LePapa proposed to me way back in the year 2000!) It was a beautiful day to walk through the woods and then look out over the city. The air was crisp, the sky was cloudless, the sun was shining. As we sauntered toward the belvedere, A fell asleep in the sling and D was enchanted with the very tame squirrels. What a perfect morning outing, I thought.

Except.

Shortly thereafter and until we got back to the car, D had a huge freak-out. First she started whining that we hadn’t brought any toys. Then the whining escalated to tearful outrage because we didn’t have any snacks, we didn’t have any change for the vending machines, and the car was “tooooo faaarrrr awaaayyyy!” Yes, I admit that I made some fundamental parenting mistakes: I didn’t bring the stroller and I left the snacks in the car. Sigh. As if I haven’t already been at this gig for almost four years.

She refused to walk back to the car but wouldn’t allow my cousin to carry her. She screamed and cried and was totally irrational (“Yes you DO have a special treat for me!”). Strangers offered empathetic smiles (which, frankly, I find more distracting than helpful).

“I’m not being a very good co-parent,” said my cousin.

“There’s nothing you can do,” I replied.

Eventually baby A woke up and I handed him to my cousin and I put D on my back in the sling. She felt better immediately and was chipper again once she’d had some food. Back home later that afternoon, we processed what had happened and apologized. When her uncle came over for supper tonight she summed it up for him: “Guess what, Uncle D?! When we went out today I was extremely grumpy!”