"Houston, We're Go For Launch"
I vaguely remember the days when leaving the house for any reason was an event amounting to little more than throwing on a pair of shoes and grabbing my wallet and keys.
These days, the act of leaving the house is something of a whirlwind that leaves me breathless before I even get to my car.
First, there is the long list of “must-haves” that we cannot leave the house without. Mundane things like diapers, wipes and sippy cups, and odd items such as a rubber snake (my son’s favourite teether), a port-a-potty and a carabiner. Any way you look at it, I’m loaded up like a pack mule whether we’re out for the entire morning or simply running out for a loaf of bread.
Then there are the things that must be done before we leave. As the weather gets colder this becomes slightly more complicated. Hats, coats, mitts and boots are wrestled on amidst grunting, sweating and crying (sometimes by the kids, and sometimes by yours truly). Inevitably, when we are standing at the door ready to walk out, my toddler announces her sudden need to use the washroom. While we remedy this situation, my infant son usually decides that he has already had enough of sitting in his car seat and decides to wail. In response, my daughter tries valiantly to calm him down with her remixed rendition of Jesus Loves Me/The Wheels on the Bus. The resulting din is enough to raise my blood pressure significantly and cause me to rethink my intentions of leaving the house.
If we do eventually make it out to the truck(and believe me- there have been times where I've given up before this point), I collapse into my seat, attempting to catch my breath. And after wiping the sweat from my brow and smoothing my ponytail, I often feel the need to pat myself on the back for attempting and pulling off such a feat (I imagine something reminiscent of the cheering and high fives that occur in the NASA Control Room after a successful shuttle launch).
However, my glee is short lived, as I eventually come to my senses and realize that I am merely sitting in my vehicle in my garage. The most difficult undertaking still lies ahead...negotiating my list of errands and “to-do’s” while keeping my kids under control, and my sanity and dignity intact.
And that...is a whole other entry.
These days, the act of leaving the house is something of a whirlwind that leaves me breathless before I even get to my car.
First, there is the long list of “must-haves” that we cannot leave the house without. Mundane things like diapers, wipes and sippy cups, and odd items such as a rubber snake (my son’s favourite teether), a port-a-potty and a carabiner. Any way you look at it, I’m loaded up like a pack mule whether we’re out for the entire morning or simply running out for a loaf of bread.
Then there are the things that must be done before we leave. As the weather gets colder this becomes slightly more complicated. Hats, coats, mitts and boots are wrestled on amidst grunting, sweating and crying (sometimes by the kids, and sometimes by yours truly). Inevitably, when we are standing at the door ready to walk out, my toddler announces her sudden need to use the washroom. While we remedy this situation, my infant son usually decides that he has already had enough of sitting in his car seat and decides to wail. In response, my daughter tries valiantly to calm him down with her remixed rendition of Jesus Loves Me/The Wheels on the Bus. The resulting din is enough to raise my blood pressure significantly and cause me to rethink my intentions of leaving the house.
If we do eventually make it out to the truck(and believe me- there have been times where I've given up before this point), I collapse into my seat, attempting to catch my breath. And after wiping the sweat from my brow and smoothing my ponytail, I often feel the need to pat myself on the back for attempting and pulling off such a feat (I imagine something reminiscent of the cheering and high fives that occur in the NASA Control Room after a successful shuttle launch).
However, my glee is short lived, as I eventually come to my senses and realize that I am merely sitting in my vehicle in my garage. The most difficult undertaking still lies ahead...negotiating my list of errands and “to-do’s” while keeping my kids under control, and my sanity and dignity intact.
And that...is a whole other entry.
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