Penultimate

We've survived the penultimate day.

I love that word and rarely get to use it. So there. I did.

It began easily enough, as most days can, until things go absolutely haywire. Today, I am proud to say, nothing got too deep under my skin. It's because... you guessed it, it's the penultimate day.

My mom's day off and again she offered to join us and we ended up at Imajine That. The kids were having a great time until, of course, The Hunger hits. Always about an hour or so after we arrive ANYWHERE and they could have had a nine course meal directly beforehand and absolutely inevitably one hour after we arrive everyone is completely starving to death.

Re-directed as much as I could, but we were going to have to leave. I know they have food there, but I didn't want to eat kid food. And right before we do so, the kids see the dress up stuff and off they go. Fine. Until I bed over to pick up the diaper bag and the male child runs over to me and whacks me directly in the eye with a tiger puppet. "Sorry. He's a really, really strong tiger and he wanted to growl, Mommy." As though it was my eye that got in the way. Excuse me. I didn't need the vision in my left eye anyways.

That was that and off we go to whines about leaving and, already, them complaining they want to go back. Hm. I'm confused as to why we are leaving then. Oh. Yes, that's right. You haven't ever, ever been fed food before in your entire life and had to remind me of your level of starvation every minute and a half. In order to stave off whines, but not completely give in, we pick a restaurant that is both interesting, but not Chuck E. Cheese. Somehow still things just aren't good enough and there is still pouting and whining from my oldest the source of which is completely non-existent. I think she just likes to make a point to show people just how much her little life seems to be missing. Which is nothing. Oh wait. I spoke too soon. The ONLY thing missing from her life at those points is... again, you guessed it, her GOOD ATTITUDE.

Finally, the tables turn. Things perk up. Food arrives. All is well. After a few bathroom visits- everyone else seems to always need to go the second Mommy gets back from attending to just one individually, why we can't all just go together and get it out of the way, I'll never know- my son gets The Look. I immediately tell him to sit back and calm down. He continues eating and then it happens. He vomits his lunch directly onto the plate he's just eaten it from, luckily enough. No muss. No fuss.

Seriously, Folks. You can't make this stuff up...

So, The Vanishing Act occurs. Well, the bill was paid by lovely mother while I dragged my son and the baby to the car. Who upon entering his seat starts whining immediately about how hungry he is and that he wants to go back to the play place. I calmly tell him that he has just thrown up in the bazillionth restaurant and he can wait for dinner. As for doing more things for the kids, that boat has sailed.

So we end up at the mall. On the carousel. Meme had had enough after that and I don't blame her. She should have bailed after the vomit episode. Then after dinner, we end up at an hour long story time at the library. Joke's on Mommy, I guess. It was at story time where my kids got "cute" and "chatty" sitting right up front and telling the librarian and all the kids and their parents our entire family history and how Daddy is on a trip and loves to play soccer with them and how if they asked their Mommy to join the pirates on the ship, Mommy wouldn't mind and would send us off for a few days... Hm. Where do they come up with this stuff?

Tomorrow is my last day of this arduous parenting journey... oh wait, no it isn't, I just get a few days of help from their Daddy. I'll gladly take it!