I'd like to believe when things look bleak in the world, the world throws a life-line. Work has been a bear lately, I've been fighting some kind of cold for nearly two weeks that's moved to my chest, and my screamy-fighty kids have been sick and difficult to be around.
I was and wasn't thrilled when the boys' mother was going to be gone for a good chunk of the day selling our junk at a mom-to-mom sale. I'm always glad when she has a chance to get out of the house sans kids, but my anxiety increases exponentially when I'm the one watching all three. In this case we would also move through nap-time for the youngest. I don't recall ever putting our youngest down for a nap -- bed, yes -- nap, no. So, the day came and mom left early in the morning. And there I was with three feral boys with cabin fever. What did I do?
I packed them up and took them to the Flint Children's Museum. We had a blast. Everyone got along and we had the chance to do everything they wanted. They have a space exhibit (that looks a lot like their submarine exhibit). We played on the fire engine, we scaled the climbing wall -- a lot. We stayed two hours, which is pretty good for us. Then, we piled back into the van, I handed each of them a snack bag, and I was left to my own thoughts on the drive home as they devoured their goodies.
At home, I convinced the youngest to take a nap. He slept on me for a good while as I contemplated putting him down. He was warm and snuggly and perfect. The twins watched some tv while I put the youngest down for a nap, and when I did come down stairs, they ate some lunch.
Finally, mother came home and the boys were very glad to see her. But we had a great day. It was some good ole' guy time and I felt like I might survive being a parent yet. At least it gives me hope, anyway.