the inner workings of my twisted mind

The kids have sort of been on the mend and maybe not so infectious lately so we ventured out into the great unknown the prior two days. Firstly we meandered to the Hands on House and then the next day to a local toddler gym. I am, or I was, a solid proponent of the 'wear your kids out' mentality. I changed it to 'was' because, it doesn't work. Not with these two. Trust me when I say that they were even more unruly during the witching hour than if we hadn't left our living room all the live-long-day. The decibel level was up no more than six extra notches at night. But that is not the point of this post. The point of this post is much more random. Which, if we are being honest here, if the post has a point how then can it in fact, be random? Mind blown. 

During the moments when I am out in the wild my mind tends to wander. The children just need to be watched. They are playing well with each other and hell, maybe even another kid. As long as they are at least in my peripheral vision - the brain can go anywhere between a soft white sandy (peaceful) beach with cocktails and these thoughts....

What must it be like to be placed into a three by five by four foot crate to sleep? There really is no way out unless you are quite the Houdini. It's a cage. A cage with a pillow. I'm feeling quite claustrophobic just thinking such a thought. I must look like such a traitor when I place him so unceremoniously inside that thing. Throw some pads on there and it could turn into a panic room.

Why do moms at these things always start a conversation with the 'how old is she/he' question? Is that it? Can't we at least comment on the polar vortex or maybe how cute my kids are? Clearly my eff you face isn't prominent enough today. Focus Laur and try it again. Then I find myself blankly staring at a strange mom and I ask... so, how old is she? 

How often do they disinfect these toys? Is it like Spring cleaning, once a year? Because David has just licked and/or sucked every single faux grocery item in this faux grocery store at least once, if not three times. He's going to get sick. Again. Can I maybe hope that it's monthly? Pass the anti-bacterial gel. Speaking of germs how do hotels disinfect pack n' plays? Do they just spray them all down with Lysol? Inside and out? (Upon reading this Matt informs me that they do not clean them in which case my sweet baby's cheeks shall never press up against another disgusting den of plague ever again!)

I wonder if I look like that mom over there. She is wearing washed out tapered mom jeans and white sneakers ala 1986. Her shirt is tucked in. She is younger than I am that is for certain. Am I there yet? Am I that kind of mom? I didn't even brush my hair this morning. So... yes. Yes I am. I should try to be less judgmental. Add that to my non-existent New Year's resolution list.

Why is no other mother at this gym watching their child? Your kid just ran over my kid's fingers with that trike. Your kid just cut in front of Letty as she was waiting patiently in line for that slide. I will stare you down you rude little two year old with the chatty mother. Do you have any idea how difficult it is for Letty to even wait in line to begin with? Lord help me I'm going to be one of those moms that hovers and gets involved and picks fights for my kids. Just walk away Laur...But where is your mother kid? Because. I'm going to start talking loudly about how we wait patiently and we take turns and I'm SURE if his mother saw him he would have to WAIT just like every other SWEET little boy or girl. 

How long till it is acceptable to leave this wretched place? Thirty minutes? Thirty-three minutes? I can only pretend to pick corn for 2.4 minutes before I start to get glossy-eyed. I'm going to text my mom and see if I can bring her lunch and two little children. Maybe I can convince her that McDonald's is, in fact, on the menu (spoiler alert: success with the kids, failure with the McD's.). 

I really shouldn't come to these places. It just brings out my annoying self-pity (which makes no sense, I am aware). All these pregnant people waddling around with their cute pregnant bellies. Slapping me in the face with those bellies. How will that one do it? 1..2..3 kids and one on the way. Count it.  Will I be able to handle coming to this place if I have three humans? I only have two arms last time I checked. Is there a bar here?

Isn't my brain a fun place? I tend to think so.