The Big Three Three

Crazy busy.  Those two words pretty well sum up my last 5 days.  Not only was this Christmas weekend but it was my birthday weekend as well, and we all know what a princess I am when my birthday rolls around.  I really have no excuse for not getting on the computer, the kids have given me enough blog topics to last me a month this weekend, but finding enough time to sit in front of a computer and record them was just not in the cards.  No matter though, today is a new day and those memories are still there waiting to be shared.

The Big Three Three

My birthday was on Saturday, but the celebration started early.  We had plans to take the kids and meet up with some friends for my favorite activity, a hockey game.  It was going to be a lot of fun, and I was really looking forward to it.  Unfortunately, my birthday celebration got off to a really crappy start…literally.  Friday was Brendan’s last day of school before winter break, so Matt had taken Cameron and gone up to the school to pick him up.  Meanwhile, I was supposed to get Kaylee up from her nap and get us ready to go, because we needed to leave about 30 minutes after we picked up Brendan.  We knew we didn’t have a lot of time, but figured by dividing up the jobs we’d have plenty of time.

What we didn’t figure in was needing to bathe Kaylee, but the minute I walked into her room I realized that was exactly what needed to happen.  By two, kids generally don’t have accidents which leak out of their diaper…but she did.  All over her clothes, and all over her bedding.  Having three kids, I’ve seen my fair share of accidents and been through quite a few disgusting scenes…this one may very well take over the top spot.  There was nothing to be done but roll up my sleeves and start to clean up the mess, which meant dumping Kaylee into an unexpected mid-afternoon bath, dropping some very soiled and smelly clothing into the washer, and stripping the bed down to the plasic covered mattress.  Needless to say, by the time Matt got home with Brendan I was up to my elbows in poop and had none of my jobs done.

But despite the setback, we made it out the door within 15 minutes of when we were supposed to and the rest of the evening went according to plan.  When we arrived at the arena, we went down to our seats and started to get the kids settled.  My parents and I have season tickets in the front row of our section, right on the glass.  They are fantastic seats, but problematic if I want to invite anyone to the game.  So I got tickets for my hubby and our friends in the second row, right behind us.  They all had a good time, but sitting in front of everyone made it difficult to do much socializing.  No matter, we were there to watch the game anyway.

The kids were up front with me because between my parents and I, we have a total of 5 seats reserved so we can bring the kids along.  Within 5 minutes, Cameron wanted to move into the second row and sit with his daddy.  It actually ended up working out pretty well because the seat next to Matt was empty so we sat him up there and Kaylee, who doesn’t need a ticket since she’s so little, sat in Cameron’s seat.  I say “pretty well” because sitting my husband behind me is never a good idea.  Much as I love him, my husband has never matured beyond the age of 12.  This means that when in a situation such as we were at the hockey game his first instinct was to get Cameron to poke me in the head over and over and over and over.  Annoying as that is under most normal circumstances, I love hockey and don’t like to have my viewing interrupted for any reason which made said poking even more irritating.  Luckily, both of them got bored with that particular game soon after the national anthem.

The rest of the game passed fairly uneventfully.  For the most part, Matt and I kept the kids down by our seats during the intermissions.  The last time I brought Cameron to a game he decided it would be a really great idea to run away from me in the crowd…three times.  After that experience I swore I would never again bring him to a game.  The only reasons he got to go to this game were 1) because it was my birthday and 2) because Matt was there to help me keep him in line.  So on the whole we thought it best to not take the kids up and mingle in the crowd.

After the game (our team won by the way) I went a few sections over to see if I could catch one of the T-shirts the players throw into the crowd after the game, Matt and my parents stayed in our seats with the kids, and our friends decided they were ready to go and headed up the stairs.  Even with a total of 7 adults in our group, none of us noticed when the little sneakster  broke away from the group.  At least not until our friends got to the top of the steps and noticed they had a tiny little shadow with them.  It was about that time that Matt and I realized that Cameron was no where to be found and started scanning the arena for him.  We saw him at the top of the steps, thankfully, with our friends.  Despite him being safe and sound, I still charged up the steps and made sure he knew that what he did was wrong.  His little disappearing act has just reinforced that he will not be going to hockey again for a very long time.  At least not until he learns that breaking away from his parents in a crowded situation like that is never a good idea.

After that we left the arena (with all three children in tow).  Usually I stay after the games with my parents because the hockey team come up and signs autographs for the fans after the game.  It’s a lot of fun to do, and you get a chance to talk to the boys.  Plus it gives the parking lot some time to clear out so getting out isn’t such a hassle.  But with the kids already being about 3 hours past their bedtime we thought staying might not be the best idea.  (it usually takes about an hour between the boys getting showered, changed, and up to the crowd, plus the actual time you spend chatting with them)  So we got into our van, and pulled into the line of cars waiting to get out of the parking lot.

About 3 minutes after our car was effectively trapped in the line, Cameron announces that he needs to go to the bathroom.  There’s nothing we can do, we’re stuck in a line of cars that stretches as far as the eye can see, and while there are still people inside the arena waiting for the autograph session, the doors to the arena are locked so that once you leave, you can’t get back in.  My boys are both pretty good though, they aren’t the type to wait until they’re already about to pee themselves before announcing they have to go to the bathroom.  We’ve found we usually have about a 20 minute window once the announcement is made.  So, we told him to hold it and prayed we’d make it home in time.

We didn’t quite make it.  About 2-3 blocks from our house Cameron announced he’d wet his pants.  Well, why not?  My celebration started out pretty crappy, why not go out with a whiz.  Despite my horrible attempts at bathroom humor, it was a great night, and a wonderful way to usher in my 33rd birthday.

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