Children's Museum Fallout

The past two Fridays, I have put aside my anxiety about taking all three of my children out together and put myself to the ultimate test. I took all three to the Children's Museum of Indianapolis. When we lived in Indy, we visited weekly. Now that we live in West Lafayette, it is a day trip in a car that is far too small for all of my kids. The trip is complicated by having to nurse a six-month old while trying to keep tabs on my two other little explorers, and any mother who has breastfed will understand that trying to run after a two-year old with a baby on your breast is not easy. Especially when there are inquisitive children as far as the eye can see.

Surprisingly, my kids were great. They had a terrific time. I had a terrific time. The baby was an angel and Sawyer remained dry on the long drive to and fro...both times. Of course, the other wonderful thing about the Children's Museum? It is absolutely exhausting for children. They get to touch, play, splash, sift, run , clap, dance, sing, dress up, mold clay, dig for dinosaur bones, pee on miniature potties, wash hands in miniature sinks, ride the merry-go-round and, when the DeWitts' visit, eat a big cookie on the way out. (The cookie thing is the only way to get the kid from the museum to the car without tears shed.) The past two Fridays, I have spent the long ride back to West Lafayette basking in the glory of managing my three kids effectively under such duress. Due to the Children's Museum exhaustion, I was able to ride in complete silence while I drank a celebratory 20 oz. Diet Coke and ate a giant chocolate chip cookie. Aaahhhh, the sweet taste of success.