kid friendly

The election is over. For better or worse. And I'm glad. I'm sick of hearing about it. This is our new reality, and I'm ready to just move forward with it. Thinking about the election makes me reflect on my own voting experience. It was, like many of my experiences, interesting. Not that the process of voting was all that interesting, I already knew where I stood on most candidates and issues, plus, most of Utah is republicans, which makes it pretty easy to vote. No, what made it interesting was the fact that I was yet again, trying to do something not designed for kids, with three kids in tow. Just as a disclaimer, one of my biggest pet peeves are those mothers who bring like 8 out of control kids into a place where it's totally INAPPROPRIATE to bring them. And they run around making a nuisance of themselves, and being obnoxious, and everyone just has to smile because she's looking at them like, "hey, we were all kids once, right?" Sorry lady, that doesn't make it okay for you to let your kids trash everything in sight. Hands in pockets, people. So anyway, I really really, don't want to become "that mom," so I expel great amounts of energy trying to avoid those situations at all costs, but more often then not, I'm alone, in the dentist's/doctor's office, or at the precinct with 3 kids under the age of 4. Yikes. I have a sweaty face before I even arrive. My tactic is to try and go unnoticed, you know, not draw attention to us, finish our business and skedaddle before my kids start getting out of control. This crumbles the minute that one lady (there's always one) feels the need to exclaim at the top of their lungs "ARE THESE ALL YOURS!?" Yep, I answer, truly proud, but slightly annoyed, why would I bring kids I'm babysitting to vote, lady? This is followed by a number of statements, "You don't look old enough to have three kids!" "Your so tiny!" and then looking at Hannah and Carter and seeing the similarities in their size they ask, "Are they twins?" This is where I take a deep breath and get ready for anything. "No, I reply, She's four, he's three and the baby is one." I get mixed reactions at this point. Sometimes, I get this look like, "Can't you control yourself?" To which my obstinate side immediately reacts spreading the indignant, "No I can't" look across my face, daring anyone to insult my offspring, or my right to have them. Most of the time however, people just get a kick out of the fact that Carter is now an inch taller than Hannah, even though she's a year older. Poor kids is cursed with the short gene. And I get a little laugh with them, about how she's her mother's daughter and then try to finish up and scoot out of the room before Carter starts whinnying like a horse (that happens more often than I'd care to admit). The problem is, the attention of the entire room is now focused on me, and I was trying desperately hard not to do that. It makes it much more interesting when I'm trying to get the kids to just stand next to me, like statues, while I hurry and vote, and not do anything too disruptive. Which is virtually impossible. And then they drop their books, fruit snacks, etc. on the floor, and Carter starts crying because now he doesn't have as many as Hannah. Crap, I am that mom. Some days I have true successes. Monday at the dentist Hannah was an angel, she just sat in the chair and opened wide every time they told her to, Ethan was so mellow that I was worried he was drugged, and the worst thing Carter did was sit next to the toothbrush drawer and exclaim over and over that they had a batman toothbrush! The amazing, and angelic hygienist let him take home the toothbrush too, even though it wasn't his appointment. She kept exclaiming how we were a little fairytale family, and how sweet my kids were. It made me feel AWESOME!!! I could seriously take her home in my pocket, it would do wonders for my self esteem. And I was truly proud of my little bunch of munchkins. They are truly phenomenal kids. I don't know how I was so blessed to have this many awesome little spirits come to me. They are all so tough, and funny, and sweet, and smart, and energetic, and mine. MINE MINE MINE!!!! I love that I see myself in them, that I see their dad. I love that every time I go to the store there's some weird old lady who gives me some little tidbit on motherhood, that I catalogue for later consideration, that I'm sweaty by the end of church, and that nobody ever thinks I'm old enough to have 3 kids. I love it because they are mine, and I will have more, and I will love them all too, because being a mom rocks, sweaty face and all.