Um. That's a weird thought, self. You are his mother. You are taking him home for naps, and he clearly is objecting. But that is all. The other parents are probably just nodding in solidarity because we've all been there. Separating a kid from a park is a dicey proposition at best.
As I drove home I began to dig deeper as to why I would even think that, to an outsider, I was a child snatcher. And the answer seems to be that my inner-self has not embraced the realities of my adult life. In a sense I feel like an impostor as a parent, as an adult in general. Somehow my psyche is convinced I will always be a meandering, ratty hoodie wearing, slightly irresponsible, yet adorable college student. (the grey hairs on my head tend to disagree)
Despite having to constantly convince my three year old that I am, indeed The Boss, I might be questioning myself the validity of the idea.
Side note: during yet another tug-of-war over control Little Man and I had this exchange:
Him: But WHY can't I have the slide right now? (the slide is in the garage at the moment because Scotty keeps peeing on the darned thing and I've had ENOUGH)
Me: Because I said so.
Him: No. You are NOT the boss.
Me: Yes. I AM THE BOSS.
Me: Because I am the Mommy and you are the kid.
Him: No, I'm not a kid. I AM THE BOSS.
Me: Oh, so you're not a kid anymore?
Me: So you are a grown up now?
Me: Well then GROWN UP. Where is your job? Do you have a job? Grown ups have to have jobs.
Him: I'm Batman.
Me: WELL CASE SOLVED, THEN.
Anyway. Who thought it was a good idea for me to be an authority figure? I am all sassy and sarcastic. And now look- I am raising sassy and sarcastic children. This is the reason why you will never see me in a pantsuit, blazer, or professional looking high heels. I will never be able to pull it off- looking like an adult. I'll always feel like a child snatcher at the park. I will always assume in my inner monologue that others around us assume I am the babysitter in the situation. I will also completely forget that I am thirty freaking years old. DENIED. I am just playing house while the "real" grown ups aren't watching. Why is it so hard to self identify with a persona that I obviously AM? Perhaps because idealized me has OPTIONS. She has choices, the whole world at her feet. Real me has her days set in stone. And that stone is 90% child care. The other 10% is housework. SO THAT'S FUN.