Human Fountain

I had four kids in four years. Ever since then, I've just been trying to catch up with my life. I have accepted the fact that I will never be one of those moms who prepares for things ahead of time. I love people who plan and prepare. I probably annoy people like that to death. I rush to the mall to buy my son his required black pants the night before the concert, we sometimes live without soap for a couple of days before I buy more, and I never have extra batteries.

In that same spirit, it just hit me that my youngest child is now in 6th grade. If you consider 6th grade jr. high, I have two children in jr. high and two children in high school. Rolling this thought around in my head makes me very tempted to head right out and buy a freeze ray gun to use on them immediately. I specifically told them not to grow up. I think I will ground them until they are younger.

I remember them being a lot of work when they were little, but those four chubby, little faces were sometimes the only faces I would see for days on end.

One time my husband was out of town for two weeks, and, feeling stir crazy, I decided to take the kids to Target. That is how much fun I can be. It took half an hour to leave the house, but I finally managed to load them into their carseats, drive without incident, and transfer them from carseats into a shopping cart.

I know I walked up and down those isles with a huge smile on my face, feeling like a victorious and independant mother. I threw my head back and felt the fresh department store air on my face as I navigated the cart around corner after corner, deeply inhaling the new stuff scent. Until Josiah started violently retching.

There was no warning. In fact, it took me a moment to figure out what had actually happened. He stood up in the cart, which was specifically forbidden according to the scary signs plastered everywhere, bent over the side, and let loose. Since I was afraid the Target hallmonitor would phone my parents and give me a detention for allowing my kid to stand up in a cart, and because I had not yet figured out what was going on, I ordered Josiah to sit back down. Unfortunately, he obeyed. And kept retching.

It was bad enough to have stomach contents on the Target floor, but it was worse to have it all over the other children. All I could think of was the scene from Stand By Me where everyone pukes one after the other like dominos, and I knew I had to get out of there.

I grabbed Drake and put him on my back piggy back style, held baby Emery with one arm football style, held Josiah with my other arm face forward, and, since Makenna was at the capable age of four, I let her climb out of the cart by herself and shouted at her to follow me. Josiah turned into a human fountain, and we just ran. No longer smiling or feeling victorious.

I buckled the slimy, smelly kids into thier carseats and returned home as fast as I could. When I got home, I washed four kids, four carseats, and the inside of a minivan. I was exhausted and didn't leave the house again for seven days.

I guess there are some benefits to kids getting older.