Yesterday I was brave, foolish, out of my mind, or just on a caffiene high. Perhaps all of the above. At any rate, I went to town with both kids, by myself. Remember, this is not just a quick jaunt. It's an hour long drive from where I live to the city, such as it is. For some reason I thought this would be no problem, and over lunch I told the 2 year old the plan to go to town. Going to town is one of her absolute favorite activities, right up there with jumping up and down, and forcing us all to pretend to drink tea out of tiny pink cups. As soon as she heard the news, she was ready. Let's go. She had her shoes on, her coat hanging of her arm, and was trailing me around the house, carrying my shoes and shouting "Town!! Town?? Town!! Go!! Now!!" I, on the other hand, was not so ready to hit the road. I had to feed the baby, make bottles, get dressed, pack the diaper bag, etc. Just as I was sure we were going, I discovered that some serious butt changing was needed, so back in the house. Have you ever tried to pin down and change the butt of a Mexican jumping bean? Did the bean have crap all over it? Was it shouting "NO!!! Town!!! GOOOOOOO!!!" while you cleaned it? If not, you really can't understand. Anyway. Off we went. 10 minutes into the trip, the lovely child declared that she needed water and couldn't reach her cup. Stupidly, I said "say please, and I will help you." Saying please has been an ongoing battle. When we got to the store, she was still wailing "waterrrrrr, waaaterrrr" but no "please". So now I had the guilt of depriving my child of water, plus the guilt of wanting to toss her out the window of a moving vehicle.
Actual shopping was not so bad. The trip home was quiet, as both of them slept like angels, so they would be well rested and cheery to greet their Daddy at the end of the day. He thinks it looks like fun and flowers and love and hugs to do this staying at home thing. Funny, funny man.