a weekend without aim

a couple of weekends ago mrs. blogamaster went out of town to help a cousin with a wedding reception. i held the fort down at home while keeping an eye on the three headed tornado otherwise known as our sons. it was the first time i have been the sole parent in the household with the three boys for an entire weekend. it was an experience. nothing like a weekend with the kids to instill a whole new level of appreciation for the lovelier side of mr. and mrs. blogmaster.

here's how it went:

friday 3:00: i race home from work to pick up aim and drive her to the airport. i'm also picking up the boys to drop them off at the hanson's because kurt has volunteered elizabeth to watch our three boys while kurt and i attend a networking social event. are you sure you don't want to check with elizabeth first, kurt?

kurt assured me it was all good. i knew mrs. blogaster would balk at the thought, but all seemed well until we actually dropped the kids off and suddenly remembered that the hansons have 2.5 year old triplets(i think i actually got the 3 headed tornado moniker from kurt). luckily, elizabeth was an absolute saint about the whole thing, but aim empathized with sister elizabeth all too well and was not happy with my agreeing to this arrangement.

even i feel bad for elizabeth at this point. i try to smooth things over by telling her that i'll make sure kurt and i skip out on the after-networking event dinner party. she replies that she and kurt had a talk and there would be no need to talk kurt out of the dinner. we reluctantly leave, sans kids, so aim doesn't miss her flight.

mrs. blogmaster voices her displeasure in me on the way to the airport. i unsuccessfully try to deflect blame onto kurt. i assure aim that i will return to get the kids after i drop her off and skip the networking event knowing full well elizabeth would have nothing of the sort.

i drop off aim and then call kurt to make sure elizabeth was ok with the arrangement (since, apparently, kurt speaks for elizabeth) and then call elizabeth to apologize profusely while offering to come back and get the kids in order to assuage the crushing feeling of guilt i am now experiencing.

i get her voicemail... that made it easier. elizabeth eventually calls back and tells me it's all good. she wouldn't lie, would she?

friday 4:30: kurt and i get to lake las vegas and embark in the networking activity which literally involved embarking on a dragon boat and learning how to row in rhythm for an upcoming charitable event race. it was bloody hot. i met a pirate. actually, just a pirate actor from the sirens of ti show. he was much shorter than i thought a pirate would be.

rowing is harder than i thought... especially when it is bloody hot outside. we finish and i am happy to be done. elizabeth calls and says she is ok with us going to dinner but doing so would be more than i could bare emotionally, thus, kurt and i leave lake las vegas and head back to desert las vegas.

friday 7:30: i pick up my brother kendall to stay the night with us on the way back home. he has his backpack chalk full of who knows what and two large bottles of water that he carries with him everywhere he goes. don't ask because i don't know why. i pick up the kids and thank elizabeth to the point that it begins to sound disingenuous, but i meant it.

friday night: we head home and watch some smallville. time for bed. big day ahead of us on saturday starting with soccer games at 8:00 am. i'll need my strength.

saturday 7:00: alarm goes off, i hit the snooze.

saturday 7:10: alarm goes off, i hit the snooze again.

saturday 7:20: i consider hitting the snooze one last time, but exert a smidge of discipline: time to get up. the race begins. i tell the kids to get ready thinking they might actually cooperate because our last name forms a majority of the word "cooperate." who are we kidding? no such luck. now i am literally running while trying to get together caleb's uniform and the like for the game, changing cole's diaper, barking out orders to jameson, trying to get some bananas and toast ready for breakfast, throwing one diaper and a bag of wetwipes in a backpack to serve as my makeshift diaper bag and tracking down caleb's cleats, shin-guards, and socks.

saturday 7:50: i start to put on caleb's cleats, shin-guards (the kind that are built into a sock), and uniform socks (yeah, that's right, pretty much two pairs of socks)and enter into child-sock-and-shoe-putting on purgatory. have you ever tried to put a pair of cleats on a kid who is already wearing two pairs of thick soccer socks? where's the lubricant? i'd rather put a skull cap on a porcupine.

saturday 8:15: we get the gear on and head to the game. we arrive and notice that as we are headed to the fields everyone is heading towards us to get to their cars (is there a fire or something?)... not a good sign. we were late. guess we missed the opening ceremony. i won't mention this to aim until she reads this post (sufficient time has passed to the point where she will just laugh at my follies... i hope).

i have no idea what time the games starts. with my luck it won't start for a couple hours. i'm in luck (must be someone else's)... the game starts in .5 hours. it's bloody hot and i didn't bring water for the kids. but i brought a diaper.... and a bag of wet wipes, that's got to be worth something. perhaps we can wring the moisture out of the wipes to avoid dehydration.

saturday 8:30: i snap some shots of the boys to kill some time (see below).

saturday 9:00: the game starts. it's still bloody hot (it's friggin' 9:00 in the morning... why am i living in a desert? idaho must be nice right now). caleb hustles and does well. i'm proud of the lad's heart, but the skills could use some polishing. this reflects poorly on the boy's father, i think to myself and suddenly feel less of a father. i'll get over it.

a random lady gives caleb a bottle of water. clearly she understands my plight. at least one son won't die of dehydration.

saturday 10:00: the game ends. we march back to the car, take kendall home and head back to the homestead, but not before picking up a cowboy hat for the evening's festivities.

saturday 11:30: the byu game is about to start. the boys are keeping themselves busy. i might actually get to watch the game.

the game starts and all of a sudden the boys are hungry. i tell them to go downstairs and make some toast as an appetizer and that i'll be down at the commercial to make them something slightly more substantive. they head down.

commercials start and i hurry down only to find all three boy walking towards me with one bowl each and a proud/anxious smile. and why wouldn't they be proud? they'd just poured themselves three bowls of brown sugar (nothing else) and were getting ready to dig into this wholesome lunch with their spoons in hand. oh boy. i'll tell aim about this one later tonight.

i make some mac and cheese (always a crowd favorite).

we watch the game and the boys behave themselves quite well.

saturday 1:30: the game isn't over, but i inform jameson that he needs to start getting ready for his baseball game (byu has a safe lead) which in my mind means get everything on including your cleats, hat and glove since those items always seem to be missing come departure time; unfortunately, in his mind this means get everything on except for your cleats, hat, and glove since those items will typically just automatically appear once we are in the car. this instance is no exception.

saturday 2:00: we find his stuff and hit the road. we get to the game. there is some cloud coverage. maybe it won't be so bloody hot. it's not. the game goes well. the team wins and james has a triple. way to go, son.

time to jet home and get changed before mrs. kitty's ranch gets underway. it's a party, but when big jeff pays the way he expects you to be on time.... did i say it was a party and not church? (i'm more of the fashionably late type). i'll do my best big j, but i'm a single parent this weekend coming from a baseball game.

saturday 4:30: we get home and start moving in fast forward while trying to get ready and arrive on time (not gonna happen). i change colston's diaper (maybe for the first time all day). i shave off my scruff to expose the 'stache. i get dressed and get the kids' clothes on.

i enter something worse than putting-kids'-cleats-on purgatory, putting-on-kids'-cowboy-boots-that-are-maybe-a-half-size-to-small-for-them-along-with-a-pair-of-wrangler-jeans-that-are-definitely-at-least-one-size-too-small-for-colston purgatory. after exerting some serious effort, i get colston's pants on upon which he begins to worriedly protest while doing strained squats for emphasis: "too small, daddy, too small." too bad, bucko, i've worked too hard for this... just stay close to the fainting couch.

miraculously, i get both sets of boots on caleb and colston. unfortunately, i put colston's shirt on caleb. you can't tell... that much. aim notices right away upon viewing the pics.

saturday 5:30: we head out thinking we are late only to discover my parents had misled me as to the starting time thinking if they told me it started a half hour earlier than it actually did i would get there on time. not bloody likely. dare ye tempt the laws of nature? my tardiness is as certain as gravity, especially when i am without the aid of my better half. no man made shenanigans can change that.

we drive fast but this place as about as far away as you can get from our house. we're late. no biggie. the kids take off and, at this point, i don't seem to care. they're on their own. actually, i keep an eye on colston. those tight jeans might attract the wrong crowd or he might pass out.

saturday 8:30: i'm ready to hit the road. i round up the posse and we make for the hills. where's colston? some lady found him on the other side of the party crying. i won't tell aim this until... well, maybe never. in fact, i'm not typing this in until after she reads the post, so if you're reading this, aim has already read it.

saturday 9:15: we get home and i peel off the attire and throw the kids in bed. i catch some tv to unwind and then make my way to the bedroom. sunday is right around the corner and that means a whole new round of getting kids dressed and pitting shoes on. i'll need my strength and some divine intervention. i've never read it, but aren't there like nine levels of hell in dante's hell? some of them must involve putting on kids' shoes three times within three days.

anyway, i'll spare you the sunday detail except to say that as we pulled into the church parking lot i remembered i was supposed to sub for james' class. how's that for preparation?

that and the boys were starving after church... too bad we were out of brown sugar.

aim (and all stay at home parents), i tip my cowboy hat to you!!!