Thoughtful Motherhood

Spontaneity - Repost

I posted this originally in February of 2007. I am not up for any original or humorous writing at this time, so I went searching for something that I could repost for my huge internet audience. (haha) At the time that I wrote this my 20 mos old was a newborn and my 4 yo was 2 1/2. Oh wow...it seems like forever.

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Spontaneity was once a friend of mine.  We hung out often and always had fun.  Then the babies started coming, and coming quickly, and she slowly stepped out of my life.  This morning, it was dreary and cold outside,  and the low, grey clouds were threatening rain.  I thought I saw of glimpse of Spontaneity as she sashayed through the house.  Yep, it was her! She came right up to me and asked me if I could play.  I realized that it had been awhile since our last playdate, and said “Sure!  Just let me get ready.”

Poor Spontaneity, she stood in the doorway tapping her foot as I changed three diapers, dressed three bodies, and called out a continuous stream of instructions to the oldest.  We worked our hardest to pack diapers, and bottles, and snacks, and even suckers in case bribery was needed.  Just as Spontaneity started huffing and puffing, we were done. Record time too, only took forty five minutes to get four kids, three diaper bags, two strollers and myself into the truck.

Our destination was the library.  There were some homeschool books that I wanted and even some Once-A-Month-Cooking books that looked useful.  Spontaneity did not approve of the latter, but was willing to go along for the ride.  Before the library we had two stops to make.  The first was to a used children’s store in search of an over-the-shoulder-baby-harness.  Even though I could easily put the baby and the 1yo in the double stroller, and let the 2yo walk, I knew that he could not, in any manner, be trusted to walk beside me in the midst of a rows upon rows of books.  My first stop paid off and I got a baby harness for $7. 

My second stop was the bank.  I needed to get cash out to pay the fine at the library.  The fines are inevitable.  Mainly because after each trip to the library with all of the children, I realize that I don’t want to do that again any time soon.  Spontaneity was getting quite impatient and started yapping loudly in my ear.  Because of her incessant talking, I forgot about the bank and went straight to the library.

I was so excited to use my newly acquired baby harness.  I unloaded the double stroller, stuck the diaper bag in the bottom, put my cell phone in the top, strapped in the 2yo, went around to the other side of the truck, strapped in the one year old, made sure my wallet and keys were in the diaper bag, situated the top straps of the baby harness, buckled the bottom straps, told the oldest to unbuckle baby, waited while the oldest unbuckled the baby, grabbed the baby, stuck his fat legs into the holes, tugged and tugged until he fit, fiddled with all the buckles and velcros and snaps until he was just right and WE WERE OFF!!

Of course, by this time, my dear friend Spontaneity was giving me ugly looks, but I just ignored her.  After all, this was fun!  It was exciting!  It was a break from the norm!  It was raining.  Ahh.  We rush across the huge parking lot, the baby is dangerously swaying back and forth in the maladjusted harness.  Finally we reach our destination.  As I pull open the doors, I see the checkout stand and remember that I forgot to go to the bank.  I almost start to cry.  Our little trip is ruined.  They won’t let me check out more book when we have a $20 fine.  They don’t take cards, I don’t carry checks, and I don’t have any cash.  Oh no!

I decide to be strong.  Instead of giving up, I head back to the truck, baby bobbing about bouncily, and reload everything that I unloaded only moments ago.  Still joyously, we drive to the bank and make a pit-stop at a fast food joint.  I figure some food will calm the kids down, and give me and Spontaneity a chance to chat.

We finally get back to the library, and I unload everything that I previously unloaded then reloaded, and we head into the door.  Our library trip was perfect.  I happily sped about picking up books on cooking and homeschooling while expertly negotiating the double-stroller and the jiggly bulge attached to my front.  Being the great mother that I was, I even let my 8yo pick out some books for himself.  All the while people were staring and some even smiled as our strange little caravan of boy, double stroller, bouncy baby harnessed to a strangely giddy mom walked past them.  I don’t think they’ve ever seen a “largish” family, especially one led by a stir-crazy-happy-to-have-escaped-the-asylum type mom.

Spontaneity was awfully proud of me as we started loading everything back into the truck.  I was still smiling, which is clear proof of an awesome trip.  The 1yo needed a diaper change, so I grabbed him out of the stroller and laid in the back of the Expedition.  As I laid him down, I felt something warm and slimy on my arm.  Then the smell began attacking my nose.  He had poopied, but not any ordinary poop.  Slimy green mucous poop that traveled up his back and onto my arm.  Ewww.  I stripped him naked, even though it was 40 degrees outside, and began to wipe poop from every little part of his body.  Fortunately the poop only got on the truck’s carpet, seat, his jacket, pants, and shirt, and me. 

By the time I cleaned him up and buckled him up, my winsome ways were gone.  My giddiness had flown out the window and Spontaneity had quietly taken her leave of me.  Oh well, I’ll see her again someday, only this time I’ll be sure to plan my playdate with her beforehand.

4:14 PM - Jul. 30, 2008 - post comment


Untitled Comment

Thanks for the laugh! I'm so *THERE* right now, you know? 4yo, 3yo and 11month old- there's no spontaneity around here- it takes to much planning. ;)

Kelly/FlyingMom
http://www.threelittlejewells.com

Anonymous - 5:19 PM - Jul. 30, 2008


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The sometimes poignant and almost-never popular thoughts of a mother trying to survive the poo and other pleasantries that go along with parenting.
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