A few weeks ago we drove past Bahama Bucks and James wistfully sighed, "I wonder if I'll ever get to go to that place???" Poor deprived child. So today we made all his dreams come true and took the kids for a snow cone.
They ate about 3 bites, got brain freeze and were ready to go. That's the thing about your deepest dreams and desires, they rarely turn out to be as good as you thought they would be once you finally get them.
I also let them play in the tunnels at Chick-Fil-A which is a big deal for me because of all the germs. I've let James do it exactly once in his life and I've never let Jude...because of the whole cancer and germs thing ya know. He hated it. HATED. The Chick-Fil-A had about 2000 people packed in there and another 500 kids in the tunnels. Gross. I sent the boys in to play and told James to keep an eye on Jude. Apparently my brain quit working. I went to stick the place mats to the table (LOVE those things...thank you Chick-Fil-A) and get Katy Jane situated and fed. Brad went to order. A few minutes later I hear Brad yelling across the crowded restaurant...above all of the other noise, "STEPHANIE!!!!!!!!!!" I know it's important if he uses my real name. And also if he's yelling in a restaurant. I turn to see him holding a hysterical, sobbing, shaking Jude. He heard some kid freaking out and yelling for his mommy. When he looked to see whose crazy child was being so loud, he saw that it was indeed our crazy child. He was wandering the aisles screaming for me and scared. James had climbed to the top of the tunnels and left him behind and the chaos and noise was too much for him. He escaped from the tunnel room and couldn't find me. I died about a million times over from mommy guilt and heartbreak. Then 3 seconds later I see James realize that he can't find Jude and he starts to panic. I leapt over the sea of mommies and children to stop another loud meltdown before it happened....because I could see it coming.
Once we finally sat down to eat, the clearly single, clearly childless, and clearly not my favorite person at the table beside us said to me, "Wow. 3 kids. 2 boys. You have your hands full." One of my least favorite comments ever. I sweetly (because my kids were there) said, "Yes, full of blessings!" Just FYI...that is my way of saying, "Don't you dare insult my precious children or I will cut. you." He didn't take the hint. He said, "They are loud too. They sure know how to communicate." My entire family froze and looked at me. Brad had shivers go down his spine. I took a deep breath ready to lay into this total idiotic Star Wars t-shirt wearing geek, gave him the look that a predator gives her prey right before ripping it's guts out, then caught a glimpse of James out of the corner of my death-ray-giving eye, and stopped. (Not my norm in case you don't know me well). Once I get to the glare, I don't usually back down. Things change when you realize your kids are watching. And learning. Learning how to respond to insensitive, ignorant people who don't know any better than to spout off rude, offensive remarks about the most precious children in the whole world. I looked at Brad who had taken a defensive position in front of the guy because he didn't want me to go to jail for murder at the Chick-Fil-A, and he whispered, "He doesn't know any better. Just look at him." Granted my nerves were a little frazzled from the screaming Jude/mommy guilt incident, but I really think it would've soothed me to be able to rip Star Wars' head off. Instead, we ate and were unlucky enough to get to hear him loudly talk to his table of equally cool friends about some awesome sci-fi books he's reading. You rock, dude. May the force be with you. You're gonna need it. Especially if I ever see you again without my kids around.
We ran several errands then Brad had some volleyball games. The kids and I went to watch part of them.
When we got home from the games I was met with the mind-numbingly repulsive fetor of dog barf. 3 piles of it thankyouverymuch. It made me cranky. My kids can puke on me all day long and I won't bat an eye. But dog barf. No. I can't handle it. I tossed Wally out back, cleaned up the barf, opened the windows, and gagged 300 million times. Never mind the fact that ummm why does my dog barf so much? Why are all of the dogs I've ever had so high maintenance? This dog has puked more than all 3 of my kids combined ever have. Gross. Enough, already.
Brad promised James a water balloon fight tonight.
(Yes, as a matter of fact he did pick his own clothes today. Why do you ask?)
You would've thought Jude might have seen this one coming.
James got him right in the face which cause meltdown #356 for the day.
James saw an opportunity he couldn't pass up. 2 birds with one stone.
That look on his face...that is the look of pure victory and delight. We all thought it was pretty funny.
I chastised Brad for not putting sunscreen on before his game and told him not to come crying to me when he gets skin cancer. He thanked me for being so optimistic.
O-well. I used the last of my restraint not annihilating Star Wars at the Chick-Fil-A.
Once we finally sat down to eat, the clearly single, clearly childless, and clearly not my favorite person at the table beside us said to me, "Wow. 3 kids. 2 boys. You have your hands full." One of my least favorite comments ever. I sweetly (because my kids were there) said, "Yes, full of blessings!" Just FYI...that is my way of saying, "Don't you dare insult my precious children or I will cut. you." He didn't take the hint. He said, "They are loud too. They sure know how to communicate." My entire family froze and looked at me. Brad had shivers go down his spine. I took a deep breath ready to lay into this total idiotic Star Wars t-shirt wearing geek, gave him the look that a predator gives her prey right before ripping it's guts out, then caught a glimpse of James out of the corner of my death-ray-giving eye, and stopped. (Not my norm in case you don't know me well). Once I get to the glare, I don't usually back down. Things change when you realize your kids are watching. And learning. Learning how to respond to insensitive, ignorant people who don't know any better than to spout off rude, offensive remarks about the most precious children in the whole world. I looked at Brad who had taken a defensive position in front of the guy because he didn't want me to go to jail for murder at the Chick-Fil-A, and he whispered, "He doesn't know any better. Just look at him." Granted my nerves were a little frazzled from the screaming Jude/mommy guilt incident, but I really think it would've soothed me to be able to rip Star Wars' head off. Instead, we ate and were unlucky enough to get to hear him loudly talk to his table of equally cool friends about some awesome sci-fi books he's reading. You rock, dude. May the force be with you. You're gonna need it. Especially if I ever see you again without my kids around.
We ran several errands then Brad had some volleyball games. The kids and I went to watch part of them.
Brad promised James a water balloon fight tonight.
O-well. I used the last of my restraint not annihilating Star Wars at the Chick-Fil-A.
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