Best laid plans

of moms and babes often go astray. The quote ran through my head as I trudged 3 cranky toddlers back to the car after what should have been a great playdate at the park. How could I have known as I sent the perky email the night before to our friends "Hey ladies, let's meet at the park at the library for playing and picnicking. Tomorrow at 10:30ish?" that things would fall apart so quickly.

First, I missed the entrance to the parking lot closest to the park. No big deal, I thought, I'll park down by the library. In retrospect, the walk probably did the Salad in right off the bat.

As soon as we got to the play area and met up with our friends, the whining started. They all wanted to swing. Story of my life - there are NEVER enough swings. Thankfully, Peter was able to entice M to play in the sand pit and S got distracted by the roundabout. You know that treacherous metal spinning thingy?

Later, I was catching M and S at the bottom of the slide and A was digging around in the sand with Peter, Colin, Quinn and Ryhs. Suddenly I heard her wail and come running for me. Apparently Ms. Amy corrected her gently for tossing sand at Peter and it upset her. At this point, I think maybe it's time for lunch and realize I have forgotten it in the car. Dreading making the long haul to the car with the Salad in tow, Ms. Amy and Ms. Carol offer to watch them. A is still holding a grudge and won't have any parts of it. So off A and I go to fetch lunch. I haven't even made it to the picnic area before I am met at the entrance of the park by S who has to pee. A goes off with our friends and I make yet another trek to our car so S can use our emergency potty. Like deja vu, I haven't quite made it back to the entrance of the park before I hear A wailing again, running towards me with open arms. She missed me, she said. I scoop her up and finally we sit to eat.

I was offering strawberries to everyone, when S thrust her hand into the container, flipping it out of my hand. Strawberries flew. I tried to brush it off, since there's no use crying over spilled strawberries. But in my mind, I'm thinking God's having a laugh at my expense. We finish up lunch and the 8 toddlers scatter like ants while the 3 moms clean up. Suddenly a familiar wail hits my ears. A is crying. A.G.A.I.N. Sigh. I still don't really know what happened, but what I could make out between heartbroken sobs was that "she wanted to get off the big spinning thing and that bigger boy wouldn't let her off."

I'm teetering on the edge by this point. And then it happens. A bumble bee lands on S's arm. I brush it off before it stings her, but the was the end. She demands to leave "Right now!"

I was happy to oblige.



Could this angel really have caused such a fuss?
Indeed.
She did.