So I had one of those moments the other day, where I realized that I was "that" mom. It was slightly disturbing, I'm not gonna lie. Let me set the stage for you....
So it was a whiny morning for my kids. Not sure why, but everything we did seemed like a chore. We took Addison to preschool, came home and the boys and I ate lunch, played a little bit and then headed back to pick her up.
So we pull into the parking lot and I am considering my options. Do I unload the boys and load them into their stroller to get her - or just say screw it and let them walk in with me. Sounds silly, but by the time I get these almost 30 pound turkeys changed, into their winter coats and shoes and then into their carseats - the last thing I feel like doing is unloading the chubs, then immediately loading them into the double stroller only to unload them from the stroller 10mins later once we have Addison, then load them BACK into their carseats only to drive home and unload them yet AGAIN to bring them into their house! Self inflicted, yes. However, letting Addison have an escape twice a week where she can learn and play with other kids her age is worth it to me.
Well, I chose to let them walk in. And by walk in, I mean I carry Lucas and hold Evan's hand. Evan holds my hand with a death grip while in public, while Lucas tends to let go - so I figure this is the safest route. So in we go. So far so good. We get to Addison's classroom and they are running a bit late. They are still cleaning up their last project so the door is closed and we are waiting outside with some other moms and siblings. In my head I am hoping to God that the boys will be patient and not wiggle or run off to explore on me. I am totally outnumbered here. This could be bad...
To my delight, Lucas was happy to sit in my arms and Evan happy to hold my hand and watch the other kids while we waited. Ok, great. Almost ready. As my arm gets more and more fatigued holding Lucas I am wondering why today of all days I chose to leave the stroller in the car and her class has to be running 15mins late!
Finally, the door opens and out she comes and we collect her things to leave. Also to my delight, the boys are happy to wait while we do this and stick closeby. Then we assume our stance again, Lucas back in my arms and Evan holding my hand. Addison walking next to us. Out into the parking lot we go. Almost to the van when Addison decides she's going to switch up her route and walk the rest of the way on the grass instead of the pavement. Not a big deal, except the reason I was staying on the pavement was because the grass makes the boys think it's time to go run and play and when they see Addison do this - 'walking nicely' time is officially over.
Crap.
So I have to keep them safe, obviously. And to do this I called Addison back and she listened, but it was too late for the boys. So I have no choice but to assume the football hold with both boys, one under each arm. Both writhing around mad and impatient. Thank God for automatic van doors as I clumsily fumbled for the button, while trying not to drop them. I got the door to open and more or less chucked the boys in. This probably looked bad. Maybe it was bad. But it was better than having them be hit by a car. In I follow as fast as I can and shut the van door.
Phew. Everyone in. Wait, it probably just looked like I kidnapped these kids. Oh screw it. 'Way to go Shawn', I think. Next time take the extra time and hassle to get them in the stroller!
Well, it doesn't end here.
Now I have two pissed off toddlers roaming the van screaming mad. In my attempts to wrastle them down and buckle them into their seats, I hear Addison start to pitch a fit. 'WHAT NOW?' I am thinking. So I ask her what's wrong over the chorus of all three screaming, she tells me:
"Your butt smacked my face!" Oh wonderful.
Now, I by no means claim to be a stick thin girl, but I also have a hard time believing that my ars, somehow severely smacked Addison in the face while she was up sitting in her carseat no less. There were no marks, no blood - just a girl that has a set of lungs when she chooses to and now was the time that she chose to SCREAM about it.
Up comes an elderly lady who was leaving the Y. She stops at my van, comes close to the tinted back window and GLARES in at me when we make eye contact as I am trying to buckle Lucas in.
Now I am wrestling children into their seats, wondering how in the heck it suddenly got so hot outside because I am at this point totally exhausted and sweating profusely. My inital reaction is to think "Back off old lady and mind your own business, everything is TOTALLY under control! (ok, not even close, but get lost...)". Although after the fact, I realize it's a good thing there are people who would check a van of screaming children to be sure that they were not left in there or being abused. But as she backed away, got in her car and pulled out - she was glaring at me the entire time. This really annoyed me.
"You have no idea!!!" I wanted to scream.... "NOOOOO IDEAAAAAAA!!"
So yes, as soon as we pulled away - the boys fell asleep, Addison was totally recovered from getting 'abused' by my rear end and we drove in silence, the entire time I am thinking.
'Mom of the Year' award, Shawn. 'Mom of the Year' award.
Can I take a nap?
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