Mommy's Moment: Why I am a Homebody

My friend, Laura Beth and I found ourselves amazed at how difficult it is to load three kids into a car. A feat, that, to many, seems simple. However, not for us. Our conversation today reminded me of last Thursday.

Sit down, have some coffee, this may take awhile.

Thursdays are our errands day. Usually that consists of a run to Publix and possibly CVS. This past Thursday both of those were on the list as well as a local consignment store. And, in the back of my mind, I added Chick Fil A or McDonald's. Hey, we'd be gone through lunch. And while that may seem like a small feat with three kids, it paled in comparison to loading them into the car. Let me explain.

There is an art to loading the car. Especially when it's cold outside and you've got a few things to add to the loading besides the kids. It's an art that sometimes I've got. And other times, I don't. Thursday, I didn't.

First, there's the obvious. Get the kids dressed to be presentable. You laugh, but that's hard. This requires brushing teeth, hair, and finding matching clothes as well as a matching bow for Hannah. And, now that it's cold it means rounding up socks. Socks that Grant can't yet, or I believe refuses, to put on by himself.

Then there's the timing. Kate is napping. Kate likes to be held for a bit upon awaking from her nap. Errand day does not allow such a priviledge. I have to factor this in, meaning, upon getting her out of her crib we all have to be ready to go straight to the car. Otherwise, we'll have a screaming, clinging baby on our hands.

And guess what, I got her out too soon.

After dressing my already fussy Kate, I realized I forgot to load the items to take to the consignment store. In fact, I never rounded up a bag for them. I had to put Kate down to do this.

She screamed.

I frantically rounded up my consignment items to the tune of "AAAAAAAAAAAA!" while screaming to Hannah and Grant to get their shoes on. And in the process of finding their shoes, there always, ALWAYS ensues a search for a missing shoe to a pair. On top of that, I couldn't let Kate go shoeless. Not a cold day. What kind of mother would I appear to be? In all reality I'm really totally fine with letting her go in just socks but, I knew I'd get comments. And putting shoes on Kate is like putting a shoe on an elephant. It's impossible. She's squirmy. Her feet hardly move easily into them. This alone sent my blood pressure up.

I snag my coupons and grocery list, grab the consignment clothes and toys, make sure the diaper bag has wipes and diapers...

And then,

race outside to place them all in the car. While there, I realize one carseat was uprooted. Have I ever mentioned I HATE carseats? It was Kate's seat. She still sat in the infant carrier (hey, she's small). Not today. Today was a day of change because Mama had no time or patience to rework the infant carrier. So, I head to the garage where a booster seat sat. It was time to move Kate up in the world anyways. No, not in a booster seat. That would be Hannah's. I'm not that crazy. I throw the booster seat in while Kate comes toddling out of the house in the cold air screaming. Thinking we'd be leaving in a jiff, I plop her into the new big kid car seat and strap her in tightly. I throw Hannah in her booster seat while trying to answer her inquisitive questions about the new seating arrangement.

Back in the house, Grant refuses to leave without blankey. On a search, he whimpers as he tries so hard to find him. Thankfully this attempt did not end in a meltdown as it so often does. After blankey was recovered, I added him to the car. Buckled him in. Went back to the house to lock the door. And jumped in the driver's seat. Ready to go. Finally.

No keys.

I looked all over the van. In the meantime, the kids were freezing. Kate, now having sat there for too long, looked unhappy with the situation. And, having left in a, uh, hurry my kids had no coats. Not to fear, Hannah says, as she pulls a coat off of the floor of the van. Being messy came in handy that cold day.

Believing I left the keys in the house I return to the front door only to realize it was locked.

A bit frantic, I go back to the van to be reminded of how cold my kids were. Envisioning frost bite and the whole story of ALIVE I think, We'll just drive to a friend's house. Only to be reminded I have no keys to do that. It must have been delirium setting in. Thankfully, common sense returned to me and I realized I had the garage door opener and possibly, quite possibly, the door to the house inside the garage door was unlocked.

Eureka. Success. It was.

I reenter the house. The search begins. Hearing Hannah screaming at the top of her lungs back in the van, I realize I've been in the house too long and still had no keys. I go back to the van to search, making sure this time to leave the house unlocked. No luck.

I return BACK to the UNLOCKED house to finally find my keys sitting in the most obvious spot.

Close the garage door. Lock the front door. Shut all the van doors. Get in the driver's seat. And BAM. We're finally ready to go...only oh, 45 minutes after we had planned to leave.


And that folks is the long version of why I am a homebody.