Certification and Milk Shakes

What a day.

The short version: we have certified documents!

The long version: After a beautiful morning of home schooling my cherubs, we hit the road to our state capital. I had promised the gang lunch at McDonald's on the way there AND milkshakes on the way home after we did what we needed to do. This is NOT bribery, this is *goal incentive*.

We arrived around 2pm, and were informed that the lady who does certifications would not be back until 2:30pm. The guy at the front desk kindly suggested that we come back at that time. What this young man didn't know, was that there was simply no chance that I was leaving that room.

What he didn't know was that my oldest daughter was wearing her brand new shoes that were rubbing her feet, and making her bleed. I had struggled to find parking, parallel parking at that, 103 miles away. Precious Kate had been skipping along and fell on the sidewalk, skinning her knee and producing real blood that dripped down her little leg. I did not have any band aids or tissues or anything. Documents I had, but band aids? No. As we approached the building we needed to be in, there were absolutely no ramps for Desperate Moms with Strollers anywhere in sight. Hauling this stroller up SEVERAL stairs with 31 pound Ezra had left me, umm, tired.

So, leaving and coming back in just 30 minutes when this lady returned?

Not a chance.

In fact, sitting down in a waiting room for 30 minutes sounded great to me.

Besides, I thought, the kids could just play quietly with the small toys they brought while I read the magazines that were on the table, right?

Not exactly. Twenty month old Ezra decided that he was DONE with sitting, and proceeded to really just scream. The waiting room was not full, but there were enough people around to really start looking at me like, "Aren't you going to do something?"

Of course, what they didn't realize is that if I DO something, like get him out of the stroller and give him the FREEDOM he so desperately wants, the trouble will really begin. Believe me, I wanted to say to those around me, listening to him screaming is just the easiest choice of the unpleasant choices I have at the moment.

But, no. I gave in to mounting pressure and let the boy out.

Big mistake. Huge.

While still not recovered fully enough to go down that road and explain it all to you, suffice it to say that the lady did come back at 2:30, she did certify my 19 documents, and I left that office with my documents in tow and lots of threats to the kids to not go near Mommy's special bag.

Then, we made the long trek back to the car with 8 minutes to spare on the meter, we drove a really long way out of the way to get the kids their promised milkshakes, and then two of the four crashed hard into nap land on the very rainy drive home.

The End