Yesterday early in the morning, I hit the floor running. One of those days where knowing what a busy day it's going to be, you luxuriate for a couple extra minutes in your warm comfy bed.But I soon got busy sorting through laundry, unloading the dishwasher, straightening the downstairs and cleaning the kitchen. The cleaning lady was coming. Lest you think that I'm a spoiled suburban wife who never cleans perhaps I should clarify that she cleans the downstairs and my bedroom every other week. What I need? Someone to clean the entire house, twice a week. Then my cup would definitely "brimmeth over".
I packed Jonathan's sack lunch (Classical school on Fridays) and then a picnic lunch for the remainder of us. I checked the kitchen clock and was running about 20 minutes behind schedule. However, I was determined and resolute that I would not don clothes (I was in my bathrobe) until I had showered. Racing to the nursery, I changed diapers and got the four younger kids dressed meanwhile barking out to Jonathan to brush his teeth, feed the dog, put his books in the car, etc., and correcting Caroline's cello mistakes. She was practicing and making horrible timing blunders. Then I raced to the shower- quite literally. 18 minutes later we were packed into the suburban and backing out of the driveway. Which leads me to why I permed my hair two weeks ago- I don't have to fix it anymore! Wash, comb, a little hair gel- wullah!
After dropping Jonathan off at Classical and taking some minutes to chat with some fellow moms, we headed to Dunwoody to pick up Jon's grandmother, Helen. I had failed to feed the three "middle kids" and got everyone biscuits at Chik-Fil-A. Come to think of it, I bought one for Caroline too, and she had already eaten two bowls of cereal. Wow, she ate a lot of breakfast.
The kids ate their breakfast in their Mormor's kitchen- scattering crumbs and happily accepting large glasses of fresh squeezed orange juice from their Mormor. Then they went off to play for a few minutes while Margaret and I discussed my sewing project- summer clothes for all the kids. Realizing that the directions to Fernbank were in my old Directions Diary and thus not with me, I also called and got directions.
After being there for about half an hour I felt that all familiar pang. You know, the one where you wished that you were Mary Poppins, and had not only a fabulous custom tailored dress on, perfect makeup, a sunny disposition, and amazing smile, but that you could snap your fingers, sing a spoonful of sugar and magically all the messes and skirmishes would hop to and put themselves away. Not being in possession of a golden lamp or genie to wish for such a thing, I fell back on the tried and true method. Bark clean up orders to the kids, sweep up the crumbs, wipe off the highchair and table, and hear the "Spoonful of Sugar" music in my head.
10 minutes later, everyone was strapped to carseats, Helen was settled in the front seat, and we were off to Fernbank.
We arrived to a packed parking lot, a front lawn covered with small children and lunch sacks, and no parking spaces! We could have gone to the overflow parking lot down the road, but I ask you? Is this really an option with 5 small children, grandmother, picnic lunch, stroller, and diaper bag? I think not. So I breathed a prayer and decided to hunker down and find something. I just happened to spot a lone place off in a secluded corner that wasn't visible to the normal flow of traffic. Yes, I got my great big suburban in that spot beautifully. I was a little disappointed that the children could not fully appreciate my car parking technique. I put the car in park and under my breath said, "Thank you Lord". You never can tell what Helen will hear as she's 90 and wears a hearing aid, but she heard that and echoed the sentiment laughing.
We piled out of the car and were soon walking toward the building, Vivian strapped to my back, Gabriel with dolly in the stroller, picnic bag and diaper bag "jimmied" to the stroller (it is a small economy umbrella stroller), and the remaining three children happily climbing the usual parking lot parafenalie (mmm- clearly that wasn't spelled right) and leaping off various and asundry items designed to keep Egleston in business.
The front desk lady was great. She took my membership card, did not cast dark looks at Helen who is clearly not listed on the membership card, and quickly printed out the tickets. After getting through the elevator fiasco- really fun. All talking children fight over the privilege of pushing the stupid buttons, jostling each, while I hiss that if they don't want a spanking they better knock it off, elevator doors open, load of people and strollers exit pushing aforementioned obnoxious children into the hall, where some of them get distracted and examine stuffed birds, I get on the elevator with some of the children, and then try to find the wanderers while an annoyed museum employee sighs from the corner realizing that they should have taken the stairs. Very fun. It could very well be my favorite part of the whole outing, but bathroom breaks are the next runner
up-but more on that later. Anyway, our first "stop" was the reptile exhibit which is really quite nicely laid out. I enjoyed it a lot and the crowd of teenagers were very well behaved. After admiring everything with only a modicum of problems, we ventured forth to the grand hall, home to massive dinosaur specimens, and lots of noise. The place was packed with sack lunch patrons covering every flat surface, floor and exhibit bases included. I herded the tribe through to the shells exhibit in the hopes that the crowd would thin shortly so I could get the lunch project tackled.
The sea shells are great, main reason why? They are housed at the back of a large dark room, the ceiling of which is covered in twinkling electric lights (stars). It has a general calming affect on the children, but is the perfect spot to race around without bothering anyone:the mother's best kept Fernbank secret.
After that, we found a table in the clearing (first I gave up on a table, found a chair for Helen, ordered everyone to sit on the floor, got Gabriel out of the stroller, took off the backpack carrier containing Vivian, found my purse and went to buy drinks- after all that, I found the table and relocated everyone). After resituating the clan, I want to buy drinks through the din and sandwiches for Helen and myself. I had run out of sandwich bread- of course!- while packing the picnic. WHile in line behind a bunch of teenagers and a cashier that has not yet taken the cashier training course, Oliver, Caroline, Charles and Gabriel took turns running over to see- was I getting them a drink, would it be soda, someone touched them or pinched them, could they have chips with their sandwhich, did I bring apples- and other sundry questions. Helen sat happily at the table, oblivious to all, gazing in awe at the massive dinosaur. Once weighted down with poorly prepared sandwhichs and drinks, I made my way back to the table, set things down and then went to get the accoutrements to dining with lots of little people. Cups, lids, straws, napkins, extra mustard, mayo, etc. That done I attempted to lay out lunch for each kid, partially unloading the picnic bag on a table too small for two people to eat at, much less 7, and pausing to reprimand someone, give Vivvie her toy back, clean up a mess, or some other thing involved with this chore. Mormor waited, and waited and waited. Finally I realized the problem. "Mormor, you need to just eat because there isn't going to be a pregnant pause for prayer since there won't be a moment of calm in the course of this meal." Her face was unchanged- happy and a bit blank so I wasn't entirely certain that she heard me, but after a few more minutes, she opened her lunch. Once I got the kids "settled", I opened my sandwhich, doctored it with mayo/mustard, and was about to take the first bite ( I was STARVING, having failed to eat breakfast) and Mormor asked for mayo. I dropped the sandwhich and rushed off to get it, then sat down again. Suddenly all the drink cups were empty and the children were sure that death by thirst was right around the corner. So I looked around for a pitcher of water on the waiter table, and refilled cups. This done I again sat, picked up my sandwich- "Mommy," It was Oliver. I looked at Oliver and thought about my options and my need to eat this sandwich, so I responded in my hissing voice slightly modified so Helen wouldn't think I was a complete demon of a mother, " I'm not getting you anything until I've eaten this
sandwhich." Maybe it was the evil look in my eye, but he sat quiet and dejected and waited for me to finish.
This Diary update being sufficiently long, I will give you the Readers' Digest version of the rest. We packed up lunch, went to the kiddie play land, spent some time in the bathroom, drove to pick up Jonathan, went to Costco, went home to put groceries away, drove to Dad's office where I switched cars with Jon and happily bid my family adieu, I raced to a muscular therapy session that I was 25 minutes late for, then met up with my girlfriends for dinner at Maggianos. Aaaah. The joy with which I sat at that Maggiano's table, enjoyed wonderful conversation, and ate dinner without getting drinks, wiping up messes and solving problems.
