My husband was gone this past weekend—off on a bike packing adventure in the mountains. And so I forged ahead with the kids at home with our own adventures.
The fun began on Friday afternoon. Adam's cousin had suggested an evening at the pool, relaxing and talking. I piled all the kids in the car and headed down. When we were almost there, S randomly puked. Nice. I wasn't sure if it was carsickness or something else, but I obviously couldn't take her to the pool. So, I pulled into a parking lot, cleaned things up as best I could, and then started the drive home, amidst the sobs and screaming of two disappointed boys, one pathetic girl, and two whining babies who were tired of the car. I may have cried a little, too.
On Saturday, I was determined to find throw pillows for our new bed, so I put all the kids in the car again and headed off to the store. The kids were reasonably good in Bed, Bath, and Beyond, Wal-mart, and Costco. (And incidentally, why don't more stores have double seat carts like Costco? It makes my life so much easier.) While in Costco, the twins saw a 50-ish man with a goatee and started saying, "Daddy! Daddy!" It's amusing that they think any man with a beard is their dad.
Late in the afternoon, H and T played in a neighbor's backyard. H somehow (details not provided by the party in question) dropped his sandal in the small stream that goes behind this neighbor's house. So, I told him the purchase of new sandals would come out of his piggy bank. He wasn't as upset about that as I expected him to be. I put the kids back in the car once again and drove back to Wal-mart for new sandals. And then, I picked up pizza for dinner, more for my sanity than for any good behavior on the part of my children. I bathed them all and sent them off to bed so I could have a few quiet hours to myself. I ate oatmeal cake and watched Roswell on Netflix until 1 am.
After church on Sunday, I dragged everyone up to family dinner and dropped the three older kids off for a sleepover with their cousins. And then returned home with just the twins to a blessedly quiet house.
My husband biked 160 miles through the mountains, spent two nights in a sleeping bag, and came home Sunday night exhausted.
I'm not sure which of us had the more adventurous weekend.
Monday, June 28, 2010
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3 comments:
Please tell me he did NOT walk in the door and say, "I'm exhausted!" That's like when, after 34 hours of labor, Joel said, "My feet hurt." You deserve a medal of honor. And isn't that cake addictive? I'd make some right now, were it not 83 degrees in my kitchen.
mom's always have a more grand adventure.
so, i'm totally going to make that cake. do you use instant oatmeal, or old fashioned oats?
It's kind of funny that Adam needs to have his endurance tested by the mountains when the REAL endurance test is right at home! Sounds like you are the one who should get a ribbon or trophy! You go girl!
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