Taking all three of my young children anywhere by myself is hard. Hard enough that I truly count the cost of going ANYwhere. So, we stay home a lot. For example, I make late night runs to the grocery store after the little cherubs are in bed for the simple fact that I can get through my list thrice as fast without them, even when I'm sleepy.
Getting out of the house involves choosing clothes and dressing &/or assisting the kids in putting in all on, managing three pairs of socks and three pairs of shoes (well, four pairs if you count mine), checking a diaper, requesting the boys try ("just try, if you don't need to go you can get back up") to go to the bathroom, checking for coats, analyzing the dirtiness of faces and messiness of hairdos, letting the dogs out one more time, telling the boys to go get in the van, convincing the boys that they really don't need to have a drink to take with them since we'll be right back ("yes, my answer is still 'no' even if you're 'thirsty to one hundred thousand'"), buckling Ella in her carseat, seeing if there's a movie in the van player ("remember when we didn't watch movies except for long trips? That was a good rule."), giving in about the drinks so as to not hear anymore about it and going back in the house to prepare them (oh, so THAT'S why my "no" doesn't really mean "no"--yeah, I get it), telling the boys to get-back-in-the-van-what-are-you-doing-in-here, trying to find the must-have toy du jour for Cooper and usually failing only to attempt to convince him that the toy he had yesterday is perfectly acceptable, running back in the house to let the dogs back in from outside, considering whether we'll be gone long enough to require a drink for Ella, shrugging and going ahead with making up Ella's milk, looking for that special toy one more time & occasionally finding it, returning to the van only to find the boys on the riding lawnmower instead of in their seats, finally convincing everyone to get in the van and buckled with toys and drinks and movie and diaper bag, and running back in to get my purse.
See? Not. Worth. It. Most of the time.
And now I've set the stage. I'm considerate like that, dear reader.
Last night, the local chicken fingers place was the site of (yet) another school fundraiser. As I picked everyone up from his or her respective school, I decided we would just skip it. On top of the hassle of getting out, when I consider that the place we'll be going is likely to be crowded and chaotic thus prolonging the hassle I usually pass. But Jackson asked to go, since they pumped it up at school (sigh), so then I got the brilliant idea that we would just drive through--we'd still be helping out, but we'd skip all the crowded-sticky-tabled-"boys-sit-down-and-finish-your-dinner"-ness of it all. Mommy for the win!
Well, Jackson wasn't a fan of that plan. Not only did he want to go in the restaurant, he wanted to take his friend Luke with us since Jackson had gone with Luke's family to the fundraiser dinner last month. I said that we probably couldn't work that out on such short notice, and we were sticking to the drive-thru. I am resolved. I am a rock.
About that time, Luke's mom texted me to ask if Luke could tag along with us if we were going since she had a charity thing she had to go to. I realized that I had a good opportunity to return the favor from last month and Jackson would be happy to boot. I decided to take one for the team. So we stopped by to pick up Luke who was way excited to join us, and off I went with four children under six years old to the fundraiser dinner. Go big or go home, I always say.
Yes, it was as crazy as you or I could probably imagine. But we did it, and we have the memories and the picture with the great big chicken to show for it.
