Trust me, it isn't easy when you have two toddlers that take off in a full toddler sprint in opposite directions while you stand there with the stroller wondering how they unbuckled themselves and crawled out while you were just trying to see if the swings were too hot to sit on. Whew.
I had made a ton of arrangements to ensure that we crammed as many activities into the four days that Kelsey and Mikey would be here.
Four Adults > Two Toddlers
I'll touch back more that a different time. Now I want to tell a story about the red wooden wagon.
On Saturday morning, the neighborhood Blake and I live in were having a neighborhood garage sale at the Club House.
It was advertised as a "Treasure Sale", but really, come on, it's a "Junk Sale" and we all know it.
Kelsey and I got up extra early to ensure that we could get there right when the sale started at 7:00AM. We were both dressed and ready, and we got there about ten minutes after the "opening of the gates". We totally should have gotten there earlier.
It was a mad house.
We circled the parking lot - filled with people and (let's face it) junk - before we decided that everything good was probably picked off immediately. However, across the street a house was hosting its own garage sale, so we wandered that way.
There was a little red wooden wagon piled under a bunch of other items that were for sale. It was dented, scratched, and squeaked when it rolled, but I didn't consider any of that... It had charm, and I wanted it.
I asked the lady standing the closest to me if it was for sale, but she said that it was hers and she didn't think she wanted to part with it. Her husband, however, was very anxious to rid his garage of the wagon that took too much space, so upon overhearing my question, he pressured her into parting with it.
As I began fishing through my wallet for the $30 to buy the precious wagon, she explained that the wagon had been her son's. He was now twenty-eight years old, and he had recently gotten married, but the memories of him in the wagon and the wagon leaving with me were hard for her.
Twenty-eight years old.
Where will that wagon be when Sam and Easton are twenty-eight?
I'll tell you...
I'm going to love that wagon. We are going to make a few memories with that wagon, and when twins have gotten married and Blake wants more space in the garage (ha! yea, right), we might part with it.
Until then, I'm going to respect how much that wagon meant to that sweet mom.
I might also have a plan to take the babies' Christmas card photo in the precious wagon and hand deliver a card to that house next to the Club House.
Let's just make it through Halloween first!