Forsaking Family Outings to Ikea
Yesterday I wore flip flops and a tee shirt. Today I put on my ski jacket and snow boots. This is what November is like in Colorado.
When I woke up this morning the temperature was fifty degrees colder than yesterday and my baby had the sniffles so we decided to dig in and have a movie day. As most of you with small children might agree, staying home all day is fun until about four o'clock. I'm still not quite sure what I was thinking, but there was something about all six of us being unshowered, with ten hours worth of dishes in the sink and no dinner plans to speak of that made me sit up and say, "Hey, let's hurry and get cleaned up and go to Ikea."
If you find yourself in this situation, take a few minutes to get your head screwed on straight and order pizza. Do not take three t.v. stoned kids and a sniffling infant out into a snowstorm to go to Ikea. And by the way, just what exactly did I have in mind by suggesting we "hurry and get cleaned up?" Two hours later we sailed into Ikea right in time for the Saturday night dinner rush. On the drive there I had optimistically assumed things had to improve from whining, hungry kids bickering in the backseat while I cranked the radio to ignore them and Jeremy kindly refrained from swerving into oncoming traffic. But oh no. It got better.
The line was long. They weren't serving noodles (Quelle catastrophe!) and they had run out of several other acceptable food items which meant Madeleine ate french fries for dinner. I find a nice, well balanced meal always helps my kids behave and those fries almost got the job done... but not quite. The baby kept spitting out his binky and squalling. When we finally sat down with our food two of the three girls had to go to the bathroom. The play land was full. Elisabeth tore through the furniture section with the single objective of jumping on every bed. And where were her parents? you might wonder. Jeremy was soothing the baby while I repeatedly prevented Katherine from hijacking my cart and ramming into other shoppers. This delightful scene culminated in me cruelly denying them ice cream cones on the way out. (As if I would award them with sugar at bedtime! Evidently I'd reached my daily quota of parenting idiocy).
So, now they are all tucked snug in their beds, we are going to crawl back into bed which is where we should have stayed in the first place, and I never want to go to Ikea again...at least not with kids in tow. I extend my sincerest apologies to all the unsuspecting employees and patrons who were terrorized by our quaint family outing. What can I say except, to quote Ellen Griswold, "It's [almost] Christmas. We're all miserable."
I know at least a few of my immediate family members are reading this and thinking, "Um, yeah, maybe you should've thought a bit harder about the whole 'let's have four kids' scenario." But that's not the moral of this story. Four kids is dandy, so long as I add a Number Eleven to my last post on how to make your holiday season great: Don't take four little kids to Ikea for dinner in a snowstorm!
When I woke up this morning the temperature was fifty degrees colder than yesterday and my baby had the sniffles so we decided to dig in and have a movie day. As most of you with small children might agree, staying home all day is fun until about four o'clock. I'm still not quite sure what I was thinking, but there was something about all six of us being unshowered, with ten hours worth of dishes in the sink and no dinner plans to speak of that made me sit up and say, "Hey, let's hurry and get cleaned up and go to Ikea."
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The line was long. They weren't serving noodles (Quelle catastrophe!) and they had run out of several other acceptable food items which meant Madeleine ate french fries for dinner. I find a nice, well balanced meal always helps my kids behave and those fries almost got the job done... but not quite. The baby kept spitting out his binky and squalling. When we finally sat down with our food two of the three girls had to go to the bathroom. The play land was full. Elisabeth tore through the furniture section with the single objective of jumping on every bed. And where were her parents? you might wonder. Jeremy was soothing the baby while I repeatedly prevented Katherine from hijacking my cart and ramming into other shoppers. This delightful scene culminated in me cruelly denying them ice cream cones on the way out. (As if I would award them with sugar at bedtime! Evidently I'd reached my daily quota of parenting idiocy).
So, now they are all tucked snug in their beds, we are going to crawl back into bed which is where we should have stayed in the first place, and I never want to go to Ikea again...at least not with kids in tow. I extend my sincerest apologies to all the unsuspecting employees and patrons who were terrorized by our quaint family outing. What can I say except, to quote Ellen Griswold, "It's [almost] Christmas. We're all miserable."
I know at least a few of my immediate family members are reading this and thinking, "Um, yeah, maybe you should've thought a bit harder about the whole 'let's have four kids' scenario." But that's not the moral of this story. Four kids is dandy, so long as I add a Number Eleven to my last post on how to make your holiday season great: Don't take four little kids to Ikea for dinner in a snowstorm!
I'm sorry for laughing but....hahahahaha.....I can just see your face while you were chasing kids. Especially Katherine and the cart. So dang precious. Someday you will have your own version of "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever" set in Ikea.
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