What Just Happened?

I had the pleasure of watching The Bopper and Mister last night while my sister and her husband went out on a "date" (which, according to their personal definition, can include a stop at Costco).  My hubby happened to be off doing his own thing, and so that left me with four children ages 7 months, 3 years, 6 years and 9 years all to myself.  We needed to get out of the house.  Fast.  

I commanded my roomful of chillins (all except for the wee babe) to use the utilities before we headed out the door-- because my plan was to embark on a long, long walk-- and I didn't want to experience any unnecessary issues along the way.  (Oh, if only it were really as simple as peeing before leaving the house.)  And after bundling everyone up in their spring coats I herded my troops out into the great outdoors.  Ahh-- breathe in that fresh air!

Normally when I go for a walk I like to get down to business.  None of this dilly-dallying and la-ti-da smell the roses stuff.  C'mon and break a sweat, people!  Get that heart rate up!  Let's go!  Uh, but not with this crowd....  The Bopper had to stop every 20 feet or so to pick up a piece of fascinating garbage off the sidewalk.  And we had to keep a very close tally of how long each older child got to push Mister in the stroller or else I was subjected to their cries of injustice.  I think it took about 10 minutes to reach the end of our block.

Now came the task of crossing the street.  Scary.  I waited until I couldn't see even the hint of a motorized vehicle within a mile in either direction.  We crossed-- like snails-- but we made it.  And who was on the other side of the street to greet us?  A ginormous Doberman Pinscher.  Loose.  All 119 pounds of him (his owner explained he was of the "gladiator" variety-- not comforting).  Brodey, as we soon learned was his name, came charging at us as I tried to position my body into the shape of a human shield, terror just beginning to register.  Turns out, Brodey is just a big, sloppy goof.  He gave us all kisses with his humongous dog mouth as his owner kept repeating the mantra "I said!  I said!  I said!  I said!" which was apparently supposed to trigger some sort of obedient reaction in the dog.  As far as I could tell, no such reaction occurred.  The kids were completely delighted, however.  But seeing as the owner seemed somewhat inebriated I decided to keep moving us along (before the exclamations of "I said" turned into "sic 'em!").  

Down the road a bit LM took a spill and received a microscopic scratch on his knee.  This caused a meltdown of epic proportions.  You would have thought his knee had been severed right from his little leg.  I cuddled and consoled, kissed and comforted.  Cars with gawking drivers passed by and witnessed the lone mother surrounded by 3 bewildered youngsters and a small wailing child.  I wanted to wave and yell, "I'm not incompetent!  Really!  And I did NOT just hit this little boy!"  But there was no time for that.  On with the show!

The Bopper then decided that at every gate we passed (and there are many in our fence-happy neighborhood) it was her duty to open it.  I reminded her that we did not know any of these people!  But she didn't care.  She was ready to attempt a visit at each and every house.  And at the gates that would not open, she commenced a pantomime of boy-style peeing...or pooping...upon the fence-- whichever her mood dictated at the moment.  I guess it was her silent protest to their seeming inhospitality.  Ugh!  "Would you like a piggy-back ride?" I asked, with more than just a slight ulterior motive.  She happily accepted the offer and our walk became amazingly swift and protest-free after this.  Until we had to search for LM's lost glasses....

"Why did you take your glasses off on our walk?" I asked LM incredulously.  He gave me his standard answer to all my "why" questions: "I don't know".  When will I learn to stop asking?  So we backtracked a little and discovered his brand-new (and scratched) glasses lying on the sidewalk.  Wonderful.  Just wonderful.  

At this point I was ready to exchange our "long" walk for a much shorter version.  So I pointed everyone in the direction of home and encouraged the kiddos to pick up the pace a bit-- meaning we began crawling forward instead of merely standing still.  Along the way it started to sprinkle, the wind kicked up a bit, and The Bopper began to complain, "I'm cold!"-- so I carried her the rest of the way.  Which seemed like an eternity.  

When we finally made it home I was more exhausted than the children were.  Whose great idea was it to take a walk, anyway??