In the Rearview Mirror …..
One thing I love about blogging is that it’s as if my memories are all filed away neatly and in chronological order.
Even the memories I have forgotten.
These days we’re living right now with kids seldom involve poop and spit up and although I can distinctly recall the smell and the horror of both, I mostly spend my current days not really thinking about the poopy spit up days.
Which is all to say – it all moves so very quickly.
But this same month, four years ago, life looked a lot different.
And since I had the pleasure of looking back – I’m going to invite you to look back with me.
(Cue wavy screen and campy music.)
__________________
today
This had been a busy little day.
For a random Tuesday. (Actually, I believe it is officially Wednesday morning when I am writing this – but what difference does that make?)
I took the chaps to a local library to watch a Christmas “play” about Holly and Bah Hum Bug. By Porkchop Productions.
I’ve probably said enough already.
Actually, it was all good. The trip to the library enabled me to pick out a few new books on CD (The Kite Rider (not to be confused with The Kite Runner) and Little Men) for car listening on the many December road trips (Ohio, Florida and all the states between here and there) we have ahead of us.
Back to the library’s presentation.
One of the actors in the show used a rather scary Halloween-ish mask for the Bah Hum Bug character. London, Sworn Protector of Younger Siblings, decided that the mask would be too frightening for Piper. London informed Piper that she would be placing her hand over Piper’s eyes and would leave them there until Bah Hum Bug left the stage.
Piper agreed to this with an “uh-huh”. She grabbed Eagle, tucked her thumb into her mouth and politely sat still for the next twelve minutes, content to merely listen to the action and trust her Protector’s decision.
I laughed. (Internally only, of course.)
And I tried to take a picture. With my too-cool-for-school-new-free-from-Verizon cell phone that arrived just yesterday.
After the library I gave the kids a car picnic lunch while I drove to the bank and headed across town for more errands. The car picnic lunch was a great idea from Gretchen and was a way better success than the last at-home-in-a-hurry lunch experience.
And then I took five young children into the pits of Hell known as Toys-R-Us. Unbuckle everyone. Enter store. Corral all children in the direction I need to go. Buy a birthday present for a friend. Check out the double stroller. Feel disappointed that it is not the one I want. Give Fox his bottle while allowing the kids to push the buttons on every talking Dora doll in aisle six. All thirty of them. Corral all children out the door, past the gumball machines and the Tigger ride. Buckle everyone up again.
And then I took five young children into Target. Unbuckle everyone. Enter store from parking at the farthest possible location. No carts nearby. Carry car seat, hold Piper’s hand, threaten other children so they will stay close as we walk three quarters of a mile. Watch Bergen nearly implode attempting to control his own overpowering urges to run every two steps. Enter store. Get sucked in to the $1 section by the door. Forget why I entered store. (Oh, yes – double stroller, trash bags, baby wipes.) Find the trash bags. Realize that this Target does not have the double stroller I want. (I just want five point harnesses – is that so difficult?) Find $3 jackets for the girls. Buy two. Find $3 shirts for Bergen. Buy two. Leave store without a double stroller or baby wipes.
And then I took five young children into Babies-R-Us. Unbuckle everyone. Promise ice cream cones at the nearby Chick-Fil-A to all obedient, angelic children. Hooray – a sale on baby wipes. And look – the stroller I want. But too expensive. Agonize over decision. Piper poops and announces it loudly. Finally, and sadly, choose the stroller I can afford. Salesman asks if I have found everything. Laugh and say, “Well, I want that stroller, but I want it for a price lower than the one I am buying.” He responds, “Wait, that’s a discontinued model. You can buy the floor sample for ten dollars less than the one you have chosen.” Push him over in joy. (Okay, that’s a lie.) Rejoice as I leave the store.
Of course we all have some ice cream in celebration.
Arrive at home. Remember that I forgot to clean the kitchen. Notice the trash that we forgot to take out. Begin to think our home resembles that new “Hoarders” show on A&E. Realize that Fox needs to eat but he has pooped and spit up all over his car seat. And Piper needs another diaper change. And Riley wants to go sleep over at a friend’s house. And Magnus wants to eat all of the dog food in the closet. And Bergen wants his shoes tied in a double knot. And London wants to know if she can watch the Beatles Yellow Submarine movie. And Mosely cannot work the zipper on her new jacket.
In the middle of all of this my new phone beeps, although I barely recognize it because it’s a new sound.
And it’s my husband.
And he says we have a date tonight.
And it’s not to see a play at the library. Or a trip to a store to shop for strollers. And no one should spit up. And there should be no pooping involved.
So I am really glad to go anywhere with him – particularly to see The Fantastic Mr. Fox.
And that is why I am writing this post at 1 o’clock in the morning.