Monday was a little scary. Rick left around 5 am and I was on my own to get all four kids out the door and to school. Well, to be truthful, my 6 month-old twins don’t actually attend school. I know. It’s why China is crushing us economically.
All day long I was shuttling kids, lifting the double stroller in and out of the car while Harlowe screamed endlessly. It was my own baby boot camp. By 3 pm, when Rick got home, I was just physically drained. So I asked him to take the girls to swimming.
Oh, and Harlowe too.
This gave Chase and I time to discuss the new “90210” and why Rob Estes is suddenly missing from the cast and why they took ladies’ man Teddy and suddenly turned him gay. For a baby, Chase actually has a lot to say about these issues and the acceptability of a woman of a certain age enjoying a teen drama. Or two. Or ten. Whatever. We didn’t talk numbers.
Anyway, I don’t know exactly what went down at the YMCA but by the time Rick came back with the three kids, he used phrases like….
“We can’t ever do this again.”
“It was soooooooooooo hot.”
“I was nauseous and almost passed out.”
Rick is a very hands on, super involved dad who doesn’t complain much so I can only imagine that things got pretty dark over there at the Y.
On Tuesday, Rick had the day off. And we thought it might be fun to take the kids to dinner. Every time we do this (which is very rarely), we always look at the bill at the end of the meal and say, “So not worth it.”
It’s really one of the fastest ways to spend money, while wolfing down food and feeling completely stressed. I just know at one point, I took Summer to the bathroom and she no longer had on shoes or socks. Which didn’t seem 100% sanitary. But whatever. She doesn’t eat with her feet.
And dammit, at least we got out of the house. And free after dinner mints too.
Ok, still not worth it.