In YMCA - M stands for Mud

Here's the story...

I went to the Y at 5:30 for a step class. I took my keys, my wallet and Eden. I had a great class, got Eden and went to the car. I pulled out of my parking space and proceeded to go around a row of cars to get to the exit. Cars had parked all the way to the edge of the pavement and out on to some grass. I could see the grass had ruts and bumps, but I took it slow so as not to bump the nose of my car. I made it through the first "ditch" just fine and began slowly through the second. That's where all the trouble began. I never made it out. I did what you do before you realize you're stuck in mud and floored it. I made it to the crest of the mini hill and sank back down. I popped it in reverse. No luck. I turned the wheels, looking for a better direction to get out. No good. I reversed as far as I could go, quickly put it in drive and (brilliantly) used the kinetic energy to give my car the extra push it needed to make it through, over and out.

Yes!

Nope.

I had to leave my car stuck and get Eden out and walk back inside. Remember, I only have my wallet and keys. That means no phone. I use the Y's phone to call home. No answer. I then have to ask to use the personal cell phone of one of the employees to call Chuck's long distance cell number. He answers and says he'll be on his way soon.

He arrives with Arielle (who had been in the middle of eating) and tries to get my car unstuck. Meanwhile, Eden is continuously repeating "Mud. Mud. Mud? Stuck? Stuck in mud. Stuck in the mud. Car, mud. Mommy's car stuck in mud." It felt like she was rubbing it in. I was going loco.

Chuck didn't have any better time of it than I. We call AAA and settle inside the Y to wait an hour for the tow truck. Meanwhile, Arielle is getting anxious to eat the rest of her dinner and has also soaked through her diaper, pants, blanket and my sleeve... then she pooped. Eden hadn't eaten either, so Chuck drove to Wendy's for a kids meal of nuggets.

While we continue to wait and Eden begins her long-awaited meal. This very friendly woman begins chatting with us. Just basic stuff like what beautiful kids we have and remembering that she was 2 when her sister was born. Then she says "What are you having to eat sweetie? Oh, chicken nuggets, huh? You're going to get fat if you keep eating food like that."

Give us a break, lady! You have no idea what she eats normally and it's really none of your business anyway!

Then, even later, when the tow truck had come and Chuck was out with the towing man, she came back around and grabbed a cookbook off a table where it was displayed for purchase. She began showing the pictures to Eden and said "Oh, you probably won't recognize any of these vegetables, we'd better look at pictures of fruit." At that point, I felt the need to defend myself. Stupid, but oh well. So when she came to a picture of tomatoes I cut in quickly, "She LOVES tomatoes! You love tomatoes, don't you Eden!?" Of course, she just stared at me. Come on! Say, "Yummy, yummy!" or something to back Mommy up. Then we came to a page with broccoli. "Oh, broccoli Eden! another of your favorites! right?" No answer. The woman looked at me and said, "Really, she eats broccoli?" "Yep!"

I wanted to say, "Cross my heart and hope to die. She really does. I promise!" But I controlled myself.

Finally, Chuck came back in with the keys and we were all set to go.

I was super stressed out for the rest of the evening although very glad to be home. I won't be ready to go back to that Y for a few more days.