Yesterday I had to go to the Post Office. I hate going there and avoid it at all costs. Typically I use their lovely Click ‘n Ship feature and just do it all from home, but my printer is out of ink so that wasn’t an option. Darn pre-planning!
At 4pm I grudgingly looked at the clock, at my boxes and at the boys. Man, I wish we had one of those nifty automated parcel service things in our Post Office… or even one within 10 minutes of here. I mustered up some excitement and announced to the boys that we were going to the Post Office. They got excited and ran wildly around the house while saying they were looking for their sandals.
We arrived at the Post Office and I instructed the troops that they were to stand on the sidewalk while I got the boxes out of the car (check!), that they were to follow me into the building (check!) and that they were to stand in line with me and not touch anything (check!). We’d be in the PO for about 3 minutes when the mom in front of me turned around and said “well done, Mom!”. I laughed and reminded her we’d only been in there for 3 minutes to which she replied “Well yeah, but well done even just getting them in here. I’d be a nervous wreck if I had even one loose toddler, let alone three!”.
The boys did remarkably well not touching the large display of Toy Story 3 items, which says a lot considering how they mauled the Toy Story 3 display at Target just three days earlier. Considering we were in the PO for probably 15 minutes they did better than remarkably well, really.
I heard lots of “aww, they’re so cute!” and “wow, they’re so good!” kinds of comments, and I’ll admit – my mom ego was gettin’ pretty large.
Yeah, that’s right! I’m Super Mom! Tackling the Post Office with three grabby toddlers doesn’t scare me!
I paid for my shipping, told the boys we could go and it happened. Chase melted down. Want to know why? Because he wanted to open the door himself. (Please refer back to my post from Monday on how I feel about this…) GAAAAH!
I had to pick him up and carry him out to the car like a big, flailing sack of potatoes. Did I mention my arms hurt from my workout still? No? Cause they did. So his 33 or 35 pounds or whatever he weighs now of flailing dead weight was a treat.
He threw a fit the whole way home. See?