I had to take Bear to get some blood work done last week and I was feeling really proud of myself and the kids because they were both just sitting quietly in the waiting room. They waited quietly while the paperwork was done, they waited quietly while we had to go down the hall and sit in another waiting room. They were both playing with the little toys they had brought, and not getting into any trouble at all. The kindly looking older man sitting across from us kept smiling at them and Z kept smiling back. It was idyllic.
And then I got my fall.
All of the sudden Bear took it into his head to just bolt out the door and start running down the hallway to the right. Just as I went after him and managed to catch him I see Z bolt out the door start running to the left down the hallway I deposited it into the waiting room and ran after Z. As soon as I got Z back into the room, Bear bolted again once again to the right and Z bolted to the left. There I was, standing in the hallway, with a kid running in either direction not sure who I should grab first or what I should do. I finally went for the smallest one, because he's the slowest, scooped him up and then ran like the wind to grab the older one and drag him back to the waiting room. By the time they called Bear's name I was covered in sweat from my child wrangling. The older gentleman just smiled at me and chuckled a little bit as he said, "Wow, taking care of them is a full-time job isn't it?" I just smiled. "Yes, yes it is."
I dedicate this to everyone with more than two kids. You are my heroes.
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