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Selective Memory

Perhaps it's because I work full-time, but I don't normally get to go out on the weekends alone with all three children.  Usually we end up going somewhere as a family, but more often than not, Keith or I go alone, while the other parent stays home with the threenados.  It's makes shopping faster and more efficient, gives us a little break to get out of the house, and gives the other parent some alone time with the kiddos. 

Two weekends ago, Keith was going to Meijer after I returned having lab work done.  For some reason, perhaps blood loss, I suggested that we all go.  I believe I said something along the lines of, "It will be fun!" Keith didn't feel the need to bring the double stroller with us, so we put the twins in the shopping cart, and Connor walked beside us.  Things started to go downhill minutes after our arrival.  We play "baby" at home, and the twins like to burp the baby while yelling "BURP".  They thought this would be fun in the middle of the cereal aisle.  Fast forward to the end of our very looooong shopping trip, Keith chose the self-checkout aisle.  We had picked up some Smirnoff Ice Cranberry Lime drinks (which based on the shopping experience should have been drank during our time at Meijer), and we had to wait for the cashier to come check an ID.  At that point, the twins were out of the cart, Keith was packing our reusable bags, the children were jumping up and down in the aisle, and I was experiencing one of the many hot flashes that results from being utterly embarrassed.  The people behind us in line, who had no children of their own, were giving us that look.  You know - "oh, they are those parents".

Keith now refers to that day as the day Sarah lost her mind

Last week, the weather was beautiful, the kids were playing outside, and it was time for supper.  So I suggested that we eat out on our deck. 

Keith now refers to that as the second time this month Sarah lost her mind.

I keep explaining, it's really about making memories (and oh, what memories they are), not necessarily the stress one goes through during the actual event.  Or the fact that Colin refuses to sit down at the picnic table, and would rather stand on the bench while he eats his zucchini. 

Just like our phenomenal trip to Meijer, I'm just going to pretend last week's outdoor dining experience did not involve one of the twins jumping off the deck, or another child trying to feed the birds some expensive steak.  We will try it again this week, provided the rain actually ever stops. Because the point of summer is to make memories.

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