I read Rants from Mommyland http://www.rantsfrommommyland.com/p/domestic-enemies.html faithfully.  I really like the “Domestic Enemies” series.  Don’t go and  read them right now, I want you to finish this one first. But when you are done, go ahead, and be prepared to be sitting at your computer laughing and saying “that’s me!!” all day long.  Here is the point: thanks to these posts I now know a to ever ever ever say “I am single parenting it right now” unless I am an actual single parent, or a military wife whose husband is deployed. 

 Because, folks, I am not.  My husband has been gone for two weeks and I have been tempted to say how hard this is doing it all by myself.  But then, I think of my sister who was a single mom going to college and my friends whose husbands are deployed and they really are doing the whole getting out of bed, make the coffee and take out the trash, raise the kids, make the food, rinse and repeat with no backup. 

So, I will give props to my sis and my military friends because, ladies, I took all three kids, out to breakfast. By.my.self.  It was a failure on so many levels.  I wanted a nice morning with my kiddos on my last weekend with them for a while and there is a new pancake house in town. 

First of all, we get out of the house way late. It takes the little super heroes no time at all to pull out every toy they own and approximately an hour to find their shoes. Each of them.  This is because Jack Jack takes everyone’s shoes and hides them all over the house, but that is a different topic.

So, we get to the pancake house and it’s almost lunch time. The kids are starving. Their blood sugar is low and so is their behavior.  In the rush to get out the door, I failed to properly warn Dash, that due to his severe milk allergy, he would not be ordering pancakes as they didn’t have the special milk mom uses at home. 

We are sitting in the booth and I’m yanking silverware out of Jack Jack’s hand and he’s reaching around grabbing steak knives. Dash is in total melt down at the thought of eating scrambled eggs. “Mooommm, it’s a pancake house!!” Tears and snot flow.  Sniff, sniff.  Glare accusingly.  “Grandma would make me special pancakes I could eat.”

Then the food comes.  Jack Jack is doing so well with self-feeding. I’m really so happy about that.  Everyone who could order pancakes did so and there was a lot of syrup.  A lot of syrup that was quickly all over the baby, the table, me and Violet’s very special coloring picture of the Colorado flag. “Moommm, Jack Jack got syrup all over my picture and now it’s ruined!!”  More snot and tears, more glares (some of them from the waiter). 

Dash sneaked some bites of pancake. Violet wanted sausage, not bacon. Jack Jack wanted to it by.him.self.  Mom wanted more coffee but the waiter had stopped coming by 20 minutes ago.

We were seated right by the cashier so I told the three that I would be right over here paying and they should sit still and keep their hands to themselves.  The lady is ringing me up and I hear “Mom!! Mom!!” I stepped back around the corner and Violet is standing up on the booth as Dash is picking up a glass of apple juice that is now cascading all over the table and dripping on the floor. 

I went back to the cashier, took my receipt, added five more dollars to the tip, grabbed a very sticky Jack Jack and propelled the other two sobbing children out the door.

Real single moms — you have my absolute respect. And I have your back if you ever want to go out to breakfast!

p.s. Sorry for lack of pictures, but I’m at my Aunt’s house getting ready to go to the airport and start the journey to South Asia.  I hope to keep blogging, but if you don’t hear from me, please don’t panic. Remember,  I’ll be in a country with very little electricity, let alone internet. Thanks for the love and prayers!

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