Mr. Mom

You guys remember this movie, right? I've probably seen it 20+ times in my life and LOL every time. (either that or ROFL...couldn't decide...love those overused acronyms though).

Anyway, if you don't remember...the movie stars Michael Keaton as a dad who just lost his job and while his wife goes off to "bring home the bacon," he is left with the kids and the daily chores that go along with being a "mom." Who can forget the hilarious scene where he is picking up his oldest kid at school and the younger kids keep telling him, "You're doing it wrong. Mom doesn't do it like this." His response, "Mommy doesn't know what she's doing...just keep quiet." Then as he pulls in the wrong way and is going against traffic, a mad mom in a minivan rolls down her window and screams, "North to pickup and South to drop off moron!"

Like I said....HILARIOUS!!!

Anyway, why do I bring this up? Because this weekend, my wife flew to Utah to be with family, and "allowed" me the opportunity to babysit our four kids.

Many times I have wondered (like most dads), how I would do being Mr. Mom. On several occasions (usually when the high schoolers are being punks), I relished the opportunity. I've even called my wife a couple times in the past and said, "Okay at 11:30 am, you and I are going to say these exact words at the exact same time: I wish I could switch places with my spouse."

But unlike the movies, we never (magically) get to switch and see how the other side functions. The closest I get are these occasional weekends...usually no longer than a couple of days. Most of the time......it's long enough.

So what happened this weekend? Since it's summer, I didn't get the "chance" to drop off or pick up the kids at school; however, I have done it in the past. These were my wife's exact instructions: "Jamie will be waiting for you near where the buses go but make sure you don't go directly to the bus-lane because then you might cut someone off which will give the red Suburban a bad rep." Of course, I went directly to the bus-lane and cut someone off.

Result: The mad mom in the minivan got pissed and in the future I made sure that I picked up Jamie in the Dodge Caliber rather than the Suburban (after all, it now had a bad rep).

Since it was the weekend, I also didn't get the chance to go shopping with the kids; however, I have also done that in the past. These were my wife's exact instructions: "Don't go to Costco with all the kids. It is a nightmare. Don't let them ride on the cart. Don't let them wander. And don't let them pick anything they want." What did I do? Went to Costco with all 4 kids. I let them ride on the cart; I let them wander, and we came home with a ton of poptarts and otterpops.

Result: Costco was a nightmare. We had to stand in line at the end of every isle behind rows of people with blue hair and no teeth because my kids absolutely couldn't go without that small cracker with goat cheese on it. Luke fell off the cart and I ran over his toes which resulted in a classic "Luke meltdown." Curran ran through Costco like a crazed 7 year old (because I let him wander) and we never ate the poptarts and the box of 200 otterpops didn't fit in our freezer.

Before my wife left this weekend, I told her that we would be going out to Palm Springs to hang with my parents, sisters, and brothers-in-law. So she responded, "As as long as you pack for the kids. When we leave on vacation, I always pack for the kids and it's not fun. So I'm leaving you with that job this time. Make sure you leave yourself an extra 40 minutes because that is usually how long it takes." I thought, "No problem. I'll get home, throw some clothes in a bag and be done with it. It definitely won't take me 40 minutes or even 20 minutes for that matter."

Result: Mismatched and wrinkled clothes. Jamie wearing flip-flops to church. Luke wearing jammies that were too small and Curran wearing Luke's extra jammies because I forgot his. Curran also had to wear the pants that can zip away and be shorts as well to church. (sidenote: Those pants are sweet. I wish I had a pair).

Anyway, I've realized two important things throughout the years when dealing with these situations:

#1 I love my job

#2 Mommy knows what she's doing

However, even after 4 kids (the oldest being 11 now) and getting worked by doing it my way time after time, the next opportunity I get to be "Mom," I'm sure I'll be thinking and saying to my kids once again, "Mommy doesn't know what she's doing...just keep quiet."

And chaos will ensue all over again.