When the Sun Peeks Through the Clouds

Did you ever notice that sometimes things just fall into place? One of those times that are so enjoyable that you sort of forget all the nasty?

This happened to me last night. And it sprang from nothing special, really. I had a bit of a long day, with my husband sick, and several domestic concerns to keep me occupied. I had decided after dinner to go out to the store for a few things that we had run out of unexpectedly, plus I was on a mission to find some diapers-for-kids-who-piss-themselves-overnight, because, damn, things have been getting out of control.

To give my husband a little rest, I offered to take Matthew with me. I knew I was rolling the dice, because it was about 7:30pm, and things could either go really smoothly or really horrifically, just nowhere in between. Still, I dressed him up and took him with me. Our first stop was CVS for stamps. I secretly rue going into a store if I can’t buckle homeboy into a disgusting, germ-filled carriage, because, in all honesty, the world is much safer when he’s contained.

I planned my attack. I couldn’t let him down, because he’d run off, with the precision of a quarterback, to God-Knows-Where and grab God-Knows-What, and then dramatically throw himself on the floor when I tried to rectify the situation. It would be hard to hold him, too, because I would need to get into my bag for my wallet. So, I let him walk inside from the car, showing me the moon on the way, then I picked him up once we were inside. Things went really smoothly, except when he got his hands on a 5-Hour Energy bottle at the register. He ultimately gave it to the cashier, though, instead of throwing it on the floor. I was pleasantly surprised.

We then continued to our second destination. I thought things were going okay, until I tried to buckle him into the carriage. He went all Wet Noodle on me, screamed, and flailed around, causing one of his shoes to fly three feet from the carriage. I managed to subdue him, replace his shoe, and then continue inside. I figured this was what I’d subjected myself to for the remainder of the evening.

Once we got rolling, though, the boy was genuinely delightful. Before I knew it, he was saying, “Hi Ki-Kul!” (Hi, Michael!) to passers-by and other children. He even held a box of instant oatmeal and a roll of parchment paper for the entire visit. By the time I’d given him a bottle of garlic powder to shake-a-shake-a-shake, he was laughing and smiling and enjoying his trip. He was nice to the cashier, didn’t scream when I took the garlic powder away to be scanned, and told the cashier, “Bye!” and “Thad Doo!”

Needless to say, I was near-giddy with happiness (and relief).

When we got home, I told my husband what a good boy Matthew had been. He then continued his philanthropic venture by helping us put away the groceries. When we were through, I went into the living room to greet the twins. I was met with equal joy when they lumbered over to me, one faster than the other, Maggie to hug my hair, and Michael to kiss? gum? gnaw on? my mouth. I tickled them both, and they laughed hysterically. It was one of those moments where the being up in the middle of the night doesn’t matter, where the hours of screaming, hair-pulling, and frustration just melt away.

I later sang Old MacDonald Had a Farm to Michael, whilst he performed a cursory dental examination on me. I’ve learned to sing entire songs with fists in my mouth, actually, and I’m not half bad.  Maggie bites my fingers (hard), while laughing and spitting all over me, and Matthew has learned that all-encompassing arm-and-leg hug, which (almost) makes his squirting Aveeno lotion all over the bathroom rug, running off with my contact lens case, and sticking multiple child-safe cotton swabs in his ears, okay.

I guess now I can say I am looking forward to less spitup and more laughs, fewer trips up and down the stairs in the middle of the night in favor of trips to the park, and Matthew’s impromptu household-solution art projects becoming real ones.

Just don’t you rain on my parade. I’d like to let it, well, parade around, just a bit longer, because I know it will end soon. Like within the hour, when they wake up from their naps.