In a burst of
overwhelming guilt good homeschooling, I chucked the kidlets into the van with a pack of peanut butter cups and a bag of apples and set out in search of some good, clean fun. Shani had been begging me to take her to the "parking lot" (the park) since she rolled out of bed this morning, and the bigs were up for another trip to Gray's Lake. Along the way, we noticed this:
Admiring the mid-morning light as it bounced off the gilded dome of our Capitol Building, it hit me that though we've been here more than a year, we haven't really Seen The Sights that Des Moines has to offer. And since we're soon to be Milwaukee-bound, it seemed like a fairly good idea to cross something off of our list. After a hasty side-of-the-highway consultation, we agreed to check out the Botanical Center.
Which, to my mind, was a Good Outing, and therefore secured my Good Mom points for the day. Except that I hadn't figured on the price of admission ---$17 for the bunch of us---so we admired the free displays outside. (Still pretty good, for me, though...as I've been known to pass off a trip to the untamed wilds of the shopping mall as an adventure.)
We ambled among the pretty flowers, and checked out the little stream and the 87 different varieties of hosta. And then Shani, who's been remarkably and unremittingly potty-trained for the past 6 weeks, yanked my Good Mom card. Having well and truly peed all over her new undies, her tights, her pink light up shoes and her alarmingly cute denim skirt, she was bare-bummed and raring for her next adventure. I, however, was flying my Bad Mom flag high above our aging minivan---having brought along nary a stitch of clothing with which to replace her soggy togs.
I knew I was grasping at straws when I asked one of the bigger kids to donate an undershirt to the cause, and hightailed it to the nearest thrift shop in search of replacement clothing for my youngest. Strapping her into the stroller, we cruised the aisles and made off with many treasures. (No clothing among them, mind you...)
Upon arriving home, the kiddos spent a happy hour perusing their new stash of books (this happens every time we move---I pack up all the books, vowing to subsist solely on the offerings of the local library, and then I go bonkers and spend four dollars on a boxload of irresistibles on my next forbidden venture to the thrift shop. Sorry, honey.) So I'm Neutral Mom at this point, right? Not for long, baby. I decide to cruise on into GM territory---offering to actually watch a movie with my loinfruit. (a. I never watch movies. b. We bought Princess Bride (on VHS---sorry, honey) at the thrift shop, so it really wasn't such a sacrifice on my part.) We snuggled up with our blankets and rice bags and hit play. (Good Mom!) Somewhere around the Fire Swamp, Esti looked over at me, sighed, and whispered, "You really can't watch the movie and blog at the same time, Mom." Busted. Bad Mom.