Sometimes, the choice comes down to one of two things.
Either I can try to convince my one-year-old that she doesn't actually need to take her favorite stuffed animal and babydoll and sippy cup in her stroller all at once and deal with the inevitable public tantrum and hat-throwing, or...
I can just let her have all three things if it makes her happy on a Saturday morning when it's cold and you're dying for some coffee and it's like a four block walk to M. Judson and at least she'll keep her freaking hat on for five minutes.
You can obviously see what my choice was.
I regret nothing.
Well, I do kind of regret the part where she figured out she could force the sippycup to spill if she pushed down on the top the right way and then completely soaked through her stroller and her own pant. Which I didn't notice at first, because she was in a stroller and at her own insistence was hugging Riff Raff the Giraffe and Baby still. I couldn't even see her sippycup.
In retrospect, that should have been a warning sign.
The reason we went to M. Judson?
Not just because of coffee, surprisingly - although their coffee was really good and came in a real, lovely coffee cup and not just a paper one. Twice a week they do a morning storytime for little ones, and Audra has been super into reading books at home lately, so I was just sure she would love it.
She lasted about one and a half minutes.
Then she wandered off to stare intensely at a couple of people who were just trying to eat in blessed child-free silence in the cafe area, and when I redirected her she then set off at a determined, unsteady clip to see how far into the community room she could get before I stopped her.
Eventually, though, she went back over to the storytime lady... where she found new people to make uncomfortable - a pair of 5 or 6-year-old girls who were actually listening to the story.
She started out at one end of a couch, kind of leaning against it, and they were at the other.
Then she inched closer.
... and closer.
The poor girls gradually became pretty obviously uncomfortable, at which point I pulled her away.
And that's when I figured out she had spent the last twenty minutes covered in apple juice.