You know what I mean, right? When you try to get kids to go in the same direction at the same time, it's kinda like herding those cats.
Add time pressures into the mix, and you've got the kind of evening that has Mommy reaching for the wine. The kids had a lesson the other night, so right after work I zipped over to pick up Soph at after school care. That's an excercise in patience unto itself. Ms. Social Butterfly takes what feels like an eternity to gather her
crap stuff and say goodbye to her legion of fans friends. Since we no longer had time to make a quick dinner, I swung by McDonalds to grab something for the road (wrong order yet again - FAIL!!!), jetted back home to grab the boy and let the girl get changed, and off we went through 45 minutes of rush hour New Jersey traffic.
Ms. SB has a herd of buddies at the barn, which means that she's easily distracted from her task of tacking up for her lesson. I try vainly to ride herd on her and keep her on task, while making sure they boy gets Sugar ready in a timely fashion. He's good on the time thing, just forgets some of the stuff you'd think would be basic by this point in his riding life. For example, which side the leather part of the girth goes on and which side the elastic should be on, whether or not she should have jumping boots on (yes, you'll be jumping) and how there should be some space between her withers and the saddle pad for comfort. Don't even get me started on how he puts on her bridle. I give him a pass on this -- she is pretty tall.
Meanwhile, the pony is still standing patiently on the cross ties, clad only in jumping boots and a saddle pad, and the girl child is nowhere to be seen. I check the tack room -nothing. The bathroom - nope. I go upstairs by the tack trunk, and as soon as I get to the top of the stairs I hear a rush of little footsteps and when I round the corner, Sophie is looking very busy in her tack trunk and her buddy is sitting innocently on top of hers. I separate the two, sending Soph downstairs and manufacturing an errand for the other, buying time so Sophie can finish tacking.
Huge sigh of relief -- both horses are finally tacked, their children gloved, helmeted, and with pony clubs (crops) in hand and the lesson can begin. I drag my exhausted self upstairs to the viewing room, and thankfully, my girlfriends (bless their hearts) have brought wine. Sing hallelujah -- there's light at the end of this tunnel. I nurse a Dixie cup of sauvignon blanc, munch on cheese, and watch the kids ride. As I am driving and can only have the one glass, I decide it is best for my stress level if I don't supervise the untacking/tack cleaning process. I do check to make sure the girls are correctly put away, with all straps and surcingles in order. Thankfully, they are. We turn out the barn lights and head home.
We get home, I send both kids off to bed, pour myself a GENEROUS glass of wine, and pass out on the couch before I can even finish drinking it. Yep, this parenting thing will take a LOT out of you.