It's the Freakin' Weekend, Baby!
I can’t decide if I like it when we have scheduled activities over the weekend, or when we have no plans and just wing it. I think when you have kids everything is ultimately kind of unplanned anyway. Even when I know where we are going, I have no idea which of my toddlers’ seventeen personalities is gunna show up, which always makes for a whole lot of fun.
The boys slept over Matt’s parent’s house on Friday night so Matt and I could have some alone time. (Spoiler alert, it was really romantic and crazy. We were in bed by 8:15 watching tv and I tricked Matt into rubbing my back by making him think he was gunna get laid and then I fell asleep at 8:45 #didntevenbrushmyteeth) So Saturday morning we headed out to get them at 9am because we had a birthday party to get to. You know when you have been away from your kids for the night and you miss them and you get excited to pick them up and have visions of them running into your arms yelling, “Mom! I missed you so much! I am so happy to see you!” Yeah, well that basically never happens when I grab my gremlins after a night at either set of grandparents’. Rex started screaming the moment he saw us pull into the driveway. When I arrived at the door he was purple-faced, full exorcist mode, screaming “I JUST WANT TO GO TO THE YMCA!!!!!” Uhhh, WTF?! Pack it up, weirdos. Time to drive forty minutes to a party. This should be great.
The party was held at an adorable little indoor play space. There were many different rooms with lots of adorable, modern, Instagram-mom-cool activities. You know what I mean. Like really clean, sleek wooden blocks, painted branches with pom-poms, minimalist dolls---shit like that. Well Rex immediately bellied up to the one little container of matchbox cars and trucks (shocker) and quickly showed a pretty obvious disinterest in sharing. I tried to play referee as best I could but I could see it was a losing battle. Wasn’t too long before an innocent little guy curiously reached for the “flatbed vehicle” and it was game on. Screaming, crying, stomping. Gotta go!
I gave Matt the “let’s get the fuck outta here before our offspring ruins the entire party” look and headed for the door. Poor Rocky was whisked off one of those weird Rody rubber horses that he apparently loves, which of course made him super happy. Goodbyes were not necessary at this point so we just booked it outta there. Woof. Thankfully they really are bipolar and all was fine ten minutes into the drive home. Shot the host a text later on, "Sorry for my terrorist kid and our early exit! Let's grab a drink soon! Poop emoji, gun emoji, drink emoji!"
...Fast forward to Sunday morning. More fun. “Guess what, Rex?! Today is the first day of SOCCER!” “No. I don’t wanna go do soccer I wanna play with my legos.” Perfect. Good start. Class is 10am-11.am.
Of course I had to buy Rex a new soccer outfit because, come on, that’s the best part. And, oh, what’s that? Perfect chance for Mama to wear her new Adidas Superstar sneakers that have suddenly come back into style thanks to Gigi Hadid and a bunch of nineteen year old hipsters?
No amount of legos is gunna put a damper on this fashion opportunity. Come on, Rex, lets do this.
Over-excitement led to an early arrival (9:40), which was definitely our first mistake. Activities typically have a fairly-short shelf life in our family, and the timer starts ticking the moment we exit the car. So, we waited around a bit and checked out the bleachers until Rex’s team was called onto the field. Boom---off he went. Running, water bottle in hand, completely excited, ready to go. Uhhhhh---David Beckham, who?! And holy shit, he can dribble! Oh, hell yes! My little/big athlete. “Go Rex!” Team huddle, stretching, warm up, time for the first drill! 10:16. Annnnnd he’s running toward the exit, out of the field, onto the bleachers. “Hey, Bud! What’s going on? Why don’t you go back in with your team?” “Awwww, Mom! No Hanks! I’m tired of soccer. I’m done.” Oh, fantastic! Ehhhh, whatever. We will ease him into it. No pressure, Rex. It’s all good. And you looked fuckin' great!
Crossing our fingers for 17 minutes next week.