Going to work...

As anyone who has kids knows, getting the troupe out the door in the morning is a job in itself. Get dressed! Where are your shoes! Why aren't you eating?

So, Tippytornado, in his attempts to prove, "I bigger now" put on his backpack, and loaded himself into the van (helping himself to some gum in the meantime)

I dropped off Karateboy...donning his dress shirt and tie for picture day (Last year he announced, "Mommy, I'm a tie man now."

We got to Tippy's babysitter and I got him out of the van and noticed his baby doll stroller was in there, with baby Ryan securely buckled in place. How, at his size, he maneuvered all this stuff in the van was truly amazing to me.

I know it is odd enough that my nearly three year old has a doll, but it is a BOY doll and he swings it around by it's ankles almost as often as he rocks it to sleep and gives it hugs and kisses. (If you still think we're freaky, please read 'William's Doll' by Charlotte Zolotow, then call me and we'll weep together for all those little boys who never had a doll and had to learn to be fathers the hard way) Plus, his best friend is a girl, and they play Power Rangers with the babies together.

I took the stroller out of the van and 13 Matchbox cars spilled from the storage area under the seat. In a skirt and heels, in the street, with people all over the place, I'm running around trying to grab these little wheeled monsters before the rolled into the gutter-- or I got hit by a car. Surely it was a sight.

I stood up, pulled my skirt back down where it belonged and pranced with my precious baby to his sitter's door while he pushed his carriage-- complete with babies and matchbox cars.