Scott had to go to work early on Friday so we could not share the drop off duties like we do on a lot of days. We are fortunate and there is only one day (Wed) that all three kids need to be in three different places, luckily not all at the same time! In any event, I was dropping off all three kids, only in two different places on Friday - yay! :)
The morning was going relatively well....we all got out the door early - a tremendous feat in itself - so I told the kids we could stop for donuts since they ate their healthy breakfast and we had a little extra time. Got to the donut shop, got all their requests processed and ordered and got us seated, relatively calmly in the tiny little Templeton donut shop without too much disruption to other customers. Averted a small crisis when Ian almost burst into tears because he thought I forgot to get him his chocolate milk. No, no, my little man, it's right here, buddy, Mommy wouldn't forget.
Partway through our morning treats, Gracie has to use the restroom. No big deal, right? Well, except the bathroom in this particular establishment is way back, past the counter, through the kitchen and around the corner with some very narrow passageways between the donut making equipment. I look at Ian and Daniel calmly eating their donuts. I can't imagine either: a. traipsing back through all that with the three kids in tow, or b. leaving the boys out front alone to cause complete chaos in my absence. "Gracie, can you wait until we get to school? It will just be a few minutes?" Nope. Note to self: NEVER leave home without everyone using the restroom, even for the 15 minute trip to the donut store. "Do you think you can go back by yourself if I ask the lady if you can use the restroom?" Yes. Whew! Ok, crisis #2 averted. I'm feeling pretty good.
Everyone finishes their donuts, we clear off the table and throw away trash, walk out onto the lawn of the donut shop and there is a HUGE delivery truck which Daniel is so excited to see. Grabs my hand and pulls me closer saying "big tuck...big tuck!" Major warm fuzzies on that one. Load everyone in the car uneventfully.
Get to school, get everyone out and onto school grounds, then let Daniel down to "run free." He loves Gracie's school playground. He runs around in and out of the sandbox and the walkways babbling to himself and using his new words: whoa! and wow! So fun to watch! Get Gracie into class successfully and start heading back to the car with the boys. On the way back, Daniel is scuffing through the sandbox, laughing at the cloud surrounding him, looking like pigpen in miniature. He gets to the edge of the sandbox and the step down is large enough to make him hesitate for just one second. Before I can even begin to move in his direction, there's Ian, playing the good big brother, holding out his hand to help Daniel down. Major warm fuzzies!
Do you think my day could continue to go this smoothly? Well, of course not.
Daniel does not want to leave. Nor does he want to be carried. Or hold my hand in the parking lot. So what started out as a blissful morning turned into my carrying my youngest child out to the car kicking and screaming the whole way with other mothers looking at me like I'm an abusive parent because their kids were obviously old enough that they'd forgotten what it was like to deal with a toddler or apparently had never had tantrums when trying to be forced into their carseats. As these moms wander off to their cars with their well-behaved children, but of course not without a glance our way with that "what is she DOING to that child?" question on their faces, I continue on in what feels like my final exam in baby wrestling 101. No toy or sippie cup of milk, no brother playing peek a boo or mommy saying, "C'mon! We're gonna go see Grandma!" is going to calm this child. Oh, no. He is behaving as if he were a vampire and that car seat were made out of garlic. I start to think his skin will actually melt should it come in contact with the Britax.
But alas, my will is stronger than his and he succumbs. He does melt...but only into a limp, crying, snotty, sweaty little boy. He begrudgingly allows me to buckle him in and screams at the top of his lungs as I wipe his nose and face free of tears and snot. Then, when the entire parking lot is cleared and no one else is there to witness my success, to hear the silence, he picks up the travel magna doodle I'd been trying to appease him with for the past 10 minutes and starts happily scribbling away, babbling and laughing. Seriously, kid? I kiss his cute little sweaty head and get in the car.
Of course, it has been uncharacteristically humid lately and I am now a big sweaty mess myself. With snot on my shirt. And smeared donut glaze I must have missed with the baby wipes when cleaning Daniel's hands. And I just realized I forgot to put deodorant on this morning because I was interrupted by one of the three kids when trying to get ready. Nice. Going to be a lovely day, I can tell.
But as I was driving to Grandma's to drop the boys off, I had one of those moments that makes you realize that it really is indeed all worth it. Ian and I have a game we play, trying to see who loves the other one more. I love you more than all the stars in the sky! I love you more than all my hot wheels! No, all the wheels on all my hot wheels! That sort of thing. So Ian starts this up while I'm driving away from the school. We banter back and forth and as I'm getting on the freeway he's trying to think of something to top my, "I love you more than all the sand on all the beaches in the whole world!" I hear "um....um...I love you....um...." He's thinking about it. Finally he blurts out, "I love you more than all the boogers in my nose!" Stifling back the laughter, I conceded, "Okay, you win, buddy, you love me more."
Yep, it's going to be a lovely day after all!
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
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