so.... a little confession time today. My kids aren't perfect. I mean, they're perfect, of course! They just don't always behave or listen and sometimes they make me feel insane and I think that they are definitely conspiring to give me a heart attack.
Take for example last night: We have a class we're attending at church, it's 90 minutes long and the kids get to play the entire time we're there. The kids were not happy about leaving last night and were also suffering from a lack of daytime sleep... we call that a nap around here. As we are leaving the two year old bolts out of the door and runs half way down the sidewalk refusing to hold my hand yelling, "I do it my own self!!" D (being five and sort of trustworthy enough not to be forced to hold my hand) has also walked that far ahead of me (although he has no intention of walking out in the street alone) which is why Rose has followed that far, but she insists on being an independent wild child and doesn't stop on my command. I am trying my best to do the "not chasing you down the sidewalk" fast walk to catch her before she commits toddler suicide as I juggle my purse, Bible & lesson book, wild child's cup and blanket. The same moment I am trying get her to stop running and hold my hand because please God don't let that truck hit her if she makes it to the street before me! Ry is giving Daddy a bit of trouble, too. His problem is that he doesn't want to hold Daddy's hand he wants to hold Mommy's hand- cue four year old meltdown that I don't get the fine opportunity to witness because I'm running after Rose who has now made it to the curb. We all love a good game of chase, yes? It's even better when danger is involved!
Naturally, upon being in arms reach of the runner, I basically yank her back from the curb (essentially saving her life although the street is totally empty now) while she lets out a startled cry. Being very aware that the pastor and other members of our class could definitely be witnessing this whole ordeal (oh the embarrassment!!!!!) I quickly turn my arm yank into an embrace while we are both trying really hard not to fall backwards on our butts. By this time I am hearing Ry whining/crying very loudly about the injustice of not being able to hold my hand while my sweet husband leads him to the car while I watch as he throws an epic tantrum. I meet eyes with T as we cross the street and we give each other looks of "They are out of control!!!" I am carrying Rose as she struggles violently to be put down to walk again (not happening) while she screams at me and Ry is putting up a good fight of his own. If anyone was watching I bet they had a hard time looking away.
The entire time that his brother and sister are losing their minds, D has calmly watched it all happen and simply follows us (probably embarrassed, too- I don't blame him) to the car and sits very quietly. He really knows when to pull out the "I am on my best behavior, I hope you're noticing" card. Yes, we did, thank you.
I'm still recovering this morning and trying not to panic about having baby number four and what s/he will bring to the mix. And because I obviously don't really value my sanity I made cupcakes and left them out in plain view this morning. They are for our t-ball team to enjoy after Closing Ceremonies tonight. So... only six more hours of telling the kids they aren't for them.
If you made it through all that you deserve some sort of award that I can't really provide, so go do something nice for yourself. I'm going to face plant in some chocolate ice cream as soon as I can get the kids to take a "nap" or as they know "time to ask mom 639 questions" time.