September 10, 2012
I feel like we're maybe starting to get our sea legs back, a little bit, when it comes to taking our herd of children out into the world. The addition of a third baby was no big thang at first, back when he was more like an easily-portable, wearable meatloaf. We could still go places and do things — one of us could strap the baby on our back and we'd each take responsibility for one other child. (Though we definitely had our fair share of BUT I THOUGHT YOU HAD EZRA ZOMG moments.)
But now Ike is a third wholly-formed child; a third independent sentient mobile walking/running vulnerable disaster area. Now it's zone defense. It's taking calculated risks that Noah doesn't need constant monitoring on the playground or is continuing to walk behind us at the aquarium, or that Ezra will stay put at the front of a store for five goddamn minutes if you hand him an iPhone. With Ike, you cannot take such risks. Turn your back on him and he'll have found something disgusting to eat on the floor OR have managed to pull over a jewelry display and leave you on the hook for the world's ugliest broken piece-of-shit plastic necklace that still costs EIGHTY FUCKING SIX DOLLARS.
But still! We try! We took the kids to a children's museum yesterday and had an AMAZING time, but oh sweet baby cashew Jesus, it was exhausting. I lost Ezra three times. I went 20 minutes without a Noah sighting as he disappeared deep within a tree-story treehouse. I carried Ike up and down flights of stairs and chased him around hallways and exhibits, and at one point sat in front of a woman dressed like Mother Goose who was singing me (and only me) a song because all the babies (including mine) had lost interest and crawled away but I didn't want to be rude.
I finally excused myself because Ike climbed on top of a bench and was throwing blocks at a nearby pack of non-mobile floor-infants.
Jason and I took turns so we each got to do one exhibit one-on-one with each individual kid. I took Noah through a puzzle house and let Ezra cook me lunch at a play diner.
I'm not sure Jason tolerated a sit-down with the Lonely Mother Goose Lady, though. I think his designated Ike Activity involved an empty hallway. Ike went APESHIT over that awesome, mind-blowing hallway, man.
After the museum, we celebrated the usual way, with mediocre tourist-trap food, eaten in an exhausted, glazed-over manner. And Ike demonstrated his new favorite communication technique: