I'm Not Outdoorsy But...

I have to confess I have a SICK adoration of Bass Pro Shop. It's so much fun, it's marketed and laid out so well inside I WANT TO BE OUTDOORSY.  I want to camp and hike and fish and be one with nature and cook over a fire.
Well, I do in my mind. Mostly I just want to buy their cute things and sit inside comfortably while using them.

Bass Pro is holding special Christmas activities for families this weekend and next weekend and so we hopped down there for something fun to do with the kids. They've cleared out all the boats in the boat showroom and it's one big Christmas wonderland with lots of things to do. 

Like a carousel and trains and real live but not dead animals. I mean how can that NOT be awesome?

There was even a spot for coloring Christmas pictures and for writing your very important letters to the Big Man Himself. Louis took the job as scribe and surveyed everyone very seriously about what they wanted.

The boy isn't a cheap date. I'll leave it at that.

It was a fun, amazing laughter filled time. I was so glad we went because it was a perfect little family outing.

Until we left.

The idea was, we'd wander around this mall and look for anniversary presents - our wedding anniversary is Monday (tomorrow). This was the IDEA anyway. He took the stroller loaded with coats and Charlie, and I took Louis (for crowd control), Miles and Julia.

The first thing that happened is that I realized we're at the family activity mall. Tons of stuff for kids to do. None of it on my agenda. Crying. Sobbing. Begging.Tantrums. These things which I firmly DO NOT ALLOW take place.   In the process of trying to tug one of them along, I twisted my bad knee. Now, walking is agony. 

I can't walk into a store, because they're acting like whackadoodles and I need to go into nicer shops. So, we're not doing that. I call the husband, I say "This isn't working, I can't do this." We agree to meet at the food court.

We go to the food court, at which time Miles decides it's time for an autistic meltdown. We haven't HAD one of those in a while. Julia sees balloons. She refuses to stay with us. She wants a balloon. If you think I'm buying ONE balloon for them to fight over, you can forget it. If you think I'm buying THREE balloons for them to make unbelievable noise with in the car, you can forget it. NO BALLOONS.

Miles is clapping his hands loudly and fussing. I ask him to stop because people are staring. He SCREAMS like I'm killing him. Now, more people are staring. He takes my hand and tries to make me put it on his mouth, repeatedly - when I pull my hand away he shrieks and pulls at his shirt. 

Ladies and gentlemen, we're officially THAT table.

I am trying to watch two kids who are on meltdown of different sorts and Louis is just about to die, wanting to hideunder the table I can tell.

Two poopie diaper changes, the return of daddy and some burger king dinner worked like a cease and desist on the tantrums. 

I added this last part, because I show a lot of fun family pictures. You don't seem me kneeling in the bathroom stall just after the picture, trying to clean the poopie pull up of my nine year old without getting it all over me or him, or letting his pants touch the gross bathroom floor. You don't see that sometimes I get a lovely ring in the shape of toilet seat on the back of my pants, because that's the only place to sit WHILE changing said pull ups and sometimes there is water on the seat. GOD I HOPE ITS WATER.

Did  we have fun? Absolutely. Despite the crazy hour. But did I nearly break down and cry in the food court?

Absolutely.

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