All Under Control

It went down yesterday. I don't know if I should laugh or cry, but when I look at the picture, I have to laugh. I was THAT mom yesterday. I put a "leash" on Asher. I started off referring to it as a "harness." It is what it is though. Asher is a master at escaping. I call him Houdini on a daily basis. He can get out of any buckle. We always tried to keep him in the stroller at ballgames for as long as possible. Now, he slides out of the stroller in less than 3 seconds. Yeah, I timed that little joker. Anyway, I got a harness for him so that he's in arms reach, but not too restricted. Before I got it out, Riley saw it in the bag. I saw him cover it up with a jacket. I feel bad that he was embarrassed. I was uncomfortable about it too. I felt like everyone was looking at me.

Asher, generally, makes me uncomfortable at the games. I don't want to interrupt anyone from watching the game. He walks in front of people, uses them to pull himself up on the bleachers, tries to climb the fence,  drinks out of anyone's cup with a straw, puts rocks in his mouth, and puts his body on every surface he comes across. He is a babbling, squealing mess out there.

A sweetheart offered to "walk" him for me. I actually sat down to try to watch the game. I appreciated it so much that she offered and I totally trust her, but I couldn't keep my eyes off of them. I felt like she was being inconvenienced and I know how hard it is to keep up with him. Her husband told me that she has the patience of Job. I'm sure that patience was tested yesterday.

Anyway, we made it through the game. We survived another one. Asher fell asleep on the way home and I put him to bed with dirty feet 😕.  Randy had Asher a lot during the game and I was glad to have my hands empty. He came home and had a beer and I took a pill. It's all good in the Henfling hood though. We'll do it again on Thursday. I think I can, I think I can...

On the bright side, I had several people come to me and talk about how they enjoy reading these blogs. They are learning with me. I loved hearing their questions, kind words, and offers for prayer.  This has become my therapy. I need to get it all out and I love that people are so encouraging. So, congratulations to all of us.

Poor Daddy!

No shirt, no straps, no problem--I guess.