How Do You Do...

We've been spending long summer days and nights with family.  Our family, Your family,  My family,  Extended family, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, In-Laws, Out-Laws... You name it.  And all of them appropriately hug a baby and kiss little cheeks and ask to see toddler tricks much to toddlers' delight and then they say, almost without fail, to RyGar and I, "How do You do it?"

Now listen - it's fairly obvious that you do what you do and it becomes your normal and, c'est la vi, you know?  But for those of you who need a couple of golden nuggets from the "picture of parenthood" as our sarcastic cousin Erik just recently called us in jest... (And believe me, it was not a compliment... Ry had two hot sweaty bawling toddlers in the back of the car that he was deftly trying to distract from their woes and I was crawling over the seat in a dress bearing my junk in the trunk and straddling Ace's car seat to deliver cold beverages whilst digging for a binkie... seriously - it was a joke.)  Anywho... here it comes.  The trick to our trade.  The magic in our mixer.  That little something extra to our recipe for success (more or less).

Ready?

Be.Flexible.

&

Quick.

Like seriously, think fast on your feet because whatever you had "planned" WILL BE SABATOGED.

Period.

Exclamation Point.

Promise.

Pinkie Swear.

And I know y'all are like, "No Sh _ _ Sherlock."  But I am talking about lightning fast development of plans B, C, D.  Like exercise those little decision making muscles until they are lean and mean because you will need to utilize them seven hundred and twenty nine times a day at mach speed.

Here is an example from just this week... I'm sort of proud of it in a sick and delusional way - but this is what I'm talking about.  Our adeptness at making crappy situations into hysterical stories whole-heartedly sustain us.

The babes and I were on a little errand run.  We were driving homeward from said errand run.  We were on pace to make it home prior to lunch, diaper explosions, drink refills, and baby Ace's lunch time bottle.  I was doing a mental happy dance.  And here it comes.... from the back seat... 

"Oh No, Mommy.... I go poop."

"Kaelster, do you need to go poop?"  I asked as I smiled at him in the rearview mirror.

"No - Kael already go poop."

Fan-friggin-tastic.

Synapses are firing.... like a ninja I start to take in my surroundings and make a quick audit of the supplies available to me in the car.  And then bam... Plan B comes at me like a stroke of genius.

I take the next exit from the freeway, park in family parking at Ikea and haul one stinky heiny and two hungry little hippos into the family restroom.  God Bless Ikea for their family diapering stations and their free diapers and their bottle warming service.  You have a customer for life my Swedish friends.

So here's whats what - I strip Kael down and stick his rear in the sink and splash and clean and ewww - I'll spare you the specifics.  Meanwhile I have dug out the Sees chocolates I had just purchased on our errand run and like little pirates, Dax and Ace are chowing on "choca monies" or chocolate coins and watching the fiasco all strapped into the double stroller drooling incessantly.  I get a free diaper and strap that bad boy onto Kael's booty as best as possible and then pull a little baby switcharoo... Ace is in my arms, nakie Kael is in the stroller with a blanket so really no one knows he is nakie and Dax man now has a steady stream of chocolate syrup running down his shirt front since I am so obviously otherwise occupied. We walk to the elevator where we ride up, grab some "Kea Juice" at the cafeteria, get warm water for Ace's bottle at the bottle station, snag a roll of crackers and walk a little further to the doll/stuffed animal area where I grab a pair of yellow knit shorts that are clearly intended for a stuffed dalmation but will totally work for Big K and we're off to make our purchases.  Whilst walking, holding & pushing I pour in the formula, shake, shake, shake, insert straws into juice boxes, tear the shorts out of the plastic and cram Big K's gladiator thighs into them while he stood in the "changed my mind" deposit bin (that was ironic) and voila - purchase is complete.  Poop is gone.  Kids are all about to be happily hydrated.  They look a little like orphans, but we're happy, poop free, and fed, more or less.

We exit intact but sweaty. We rebuckle, distribute crackers, admire Kael's new look, hand Ace a bottle and off we go - eighteen minutes later.  Disaster averted.  Ninja skills tested.  Flexibility?  Heck yes.  Mama just did the chinese splits y'all with a little round house kick just to show off.

So, that is how we do it.  Not perfectly.  Not with pomp or circumstance or a smidgeon of class really, and definitely not by following standard protocol.

But it works.  And we're keeping on keeping on.

And oh, the stories we could tell.  If we ever got a chance to sit down and chat with you over a multi course dinner.  For now, we might have to time to meet up for a Slurpee.  :)