Third Kid

I know its been a long time since I've blogged. Like, a long time. But I had an experience the other day that made me and Nate have a good chuckle at our current stage in life, so I have to document it.

Our ward was having a ward "camp out." I quoted it because it wasn't really a camp out, just an all day activity in the mountains. Dinner was (as usual) an adventure. They were serving dutch oven potatoes, BBQ pork sandwiches, and watermelon. Since Rachael has decided she "doesn't like potatoes" (anoying.), and Whitney does everything her big sis does, I knew it was down to the sandwiches, more specifically the bun, and watermelon. I have a phobia of my kids becoming "those kids" who whine and cry about everything placed in front of them. Rachael is currently one of "those kids," but she's still young and has been eating quite a few of her dinners for next day breakfast to break her of her whining. Its a work in process. I was the only one at the activity with kids age 6 and 3. All the other kids were either old enough to do as they were told, or young enough to get their way. Our 30 minutes of meal time was spent me forcefully telling R and W that if they didn't eat their sandwich, they wouldn't get any watermelon or cookies. Most of the people there were newlyweds, or child-less, and I'm sure their minds were full of judgement. Call me in 8 years when you have your own kids (not babies), then tell me what you think. (Seth ate his potatoes like a champ.)

Then the big thing that made us chuckle. A small family arrived and started feeding their 1 year old daughter. Once they started giving her bites of watermelon, the following conversation ensued:

Dad: "Oh man. You do know she's soaking her shirt with watermelon juice, right?"
Mom: "Yes, and I didn't even bring her another outfit! If I was a good mom, I would have at least brought a bib. Oh well."
Dad: "But won't she get cold?"
Mom: "I do have an extra onesie and I do have a sweater." {Sorry, doesn't that count as an extra outfit?}
Dad: "Maybe we should stop giving it to her."
Mom: "You're right, we don't want her to have too much sugar anyway."

Oh jeez... Lets take a gander over at my baby, poor little #3. Little Seth, in his stroller, gnawing away on an entire piece of watermelon. You want to talk about soaked with watermelon juice, literally the entire front of his shirt was SOAKED. And, through the evening, I also let him sit on ground and he occasionally put rocks in his mouth. After he was done with his watermelon, I gave him a cookie. Mother of the Year, right here. And guess what. I. Don't. Care. He was happy, I was happy. In my years of mothering, I've learned that whatever works for your family is what you should do, don't worry about anyone else. But we were in their same shoes five years ago. Making sure to bring extra clothes, extra food, antiseptic wipes, diaper rash cream, the works. Now when I look in my diaper bag, I'm lucky if I have a diaper that fits the baby. Parenting changes so fast.

We left a few minutes after dinner ended. I came home, bathed all three kids (huge accomplishment!), and made my husband put them to bed.

(Additional Note: The dad mentioned above was also heard by Nate saying, "Do you want to take a turn chasing her?" Oh man, those were the days. Now Nate and I each chase one of of big kids while poor little Seth is left to fend for himself. On the ground. With rocks in his mouth.)