My husband and his friends host a clinic for baseball and softball coaches every January, and when he left me a single mom yesterday, I decided to take today off and enjoy a long weekend with the kids. The expectation for a fun Friday wasn’t very high; in fact, knowing that our first order of business was hitting up the DMV where I would finally renew my 2-month-expired drivers license, I pretty much thought today would suck.
Not only were the kids ANGELS while I signed my name 6 different times, they made everyone around us smile. As I’m sure you can imagine, the DMV isn’t the place for smiles what with the long lines and the stock character of an elderly woman bumping into everything in her peripheral yelling,”Someone’s taking my license for no damn reason!” The whole scenario had the makings for a major meltdown, but it went off without a hitch. I was really proud of my kids.
And then Ella farted. Loudly. And then she announced it. Loudly. “ELLA! TOOTS! ELLA TOOTS!” Fortunately, the target audience for toddler farts was among us and enjoyed a good laugh. Bless my daughter’s colon for bringing such joy.
Once we were loaded back in the car and headed to our main destination, the mall playground, my son said to me: “Mum, you looked really pretty in your new picture.” SERIOUSLY? Could this kid be any more timely? I had silently been lamenting about how my face was fuller and my eyes duller in said new picture, and then he swings and hits a home run. He actually insisted on holding my license while we drove and I watched him in the rear view as he looked it over with those innocent blue eyes. He wasn’t analyzing it for new wrinkles in my forehead or a double chin; he really thinks his Mommy is pretty. <insert heart swelling here>
At the mall, the double stroller opened on the first try, and you’ve ever tackled that beast, you can smell the sweet victory from where you are. The rain turned from drizzle to downpour only when we were safely inside, and I remembered the receipt for my return and got cash back. I was strutting after that, I won’t lie.
Off to the playground where, please sit down if you aren’t already, there were NO. OTHER. KIDS. Mind you, it’s a Friday afternoon, it’s raining, and this mall playground is pretty much the only option for indoor fun for those in our area. But NONE. NOT ONE other kid was there. Do you hear angels singing? My guy and doll raced around, up and down, pushed buttons, beeped horns, slid down, and danced like fools and it was GLORIOUS. By the time other little ankle biters started to show up, we were ready for lunch.
Mad props to Panera for their offer to “add a baked good for 99 cents.” Freshly baked chocolate chip cookie big enough for
three two?? Don’t mind if we do. The best part of Panera, aside from the chocolately goodness, was when Brady asked if everyone was full. I leaned back, pretending to be uncomfortably bloated, and next thing I knew, he was feelin’ on my boobs. “WHOA! Your belly is huge!” My cups do not runneth over by any stretch, but I’ll take a compliment where I can get one. Even if that means getting felt up by my kid. In public.
With no particular place to go and no schedule to follow, we leisurely dropped about 50 cents worth of pennies down the swirly thing (Big-time entertainment for toddlers. You’re welcome), and then it was my turn to shop. No one threw a fit when I stocked up on a lifetime supply of anti-bacterial hand sanitizer at Bath and Body Works. Both cherubs sat nicely, holding a mini-bac for me, yelling out the different colors. They looked cute and smart. I was king of the world.
I admit I spent a bit too much time looking at newborn clothes (my best friend is expecting, not me), and when Ella voiced her opinion that she had had enough, I listened. Instead of enticing her with a snack for the sake of my spending, I opted to avoid a full-blown tantrum, hung everything back on the racks, and happily headed out the door.
When we pulled in our driveway, the girl child was asleep and my main man was comatose thanks to the sweet tunes of The Rolling Stones “Sympathy for the Devil” live at the Beacon. Ella actually slept threw the transition from car seat to crib (I KNOW! I almost had a stroke, too!) and Brady was game for some cuddling. We cozied up in the big chair in the living room and from underneath his thick curtain of lashes, I could see his baby blues fading. I suggested we take the snuggle fest to his bed, and he agreed. Both of my perfect children took 2-hour naps.
I am going to play the lottery this evening. And when I win, I’m quitting my job so I can have more days like today.