It was an Exedrin kind of day.
But 3:00 is my point of no return, and if I don’t pop a few by then, I’m on my own.
I was on my own today. With three kids. At a children’s museum.
I must have been temporarily insane. When I am in my right mind, I don’t volunteer to go to children’s museums—especially not on national holidays.
Of course, a day like today wasn’t about me. It was about the kids, and they did have a good time once we got through the line at the entrance.
Well, they had fun some of the time—a lot of time there was crying. Like when my five-year-old yelled at the kids who happened to be in line in front of him to sit on the fake horse. And when he was terrified when he finally got his turn.
Or when he got upset about something with the water, or when my daughter cried when she got stuck on the climbing wall, and then again when she didn’t want to play on the helicopter.
We did have a few nice moments. Like playing the huge wooden xylophone, or trying out the green screen. But my favorite moment was getting home.
And mostly, I’m just happy we survived.