Runaway Strollers and Clip-On Earrings

While I like my new house, and my husband seems to like his new job...moving has come with a new set of challenges.  Not the typical ones I was prepared for...the kids all seem to be adjusting to their new schools; even the preschooler loves her new school.  No, the biggest challenge is not having friends or family nearby to help.  I am learning how to truly be alone and handle the daily struggles of life with five kids. 

One big one is that Irelynn now goes to school four days a week instead of three.  There is no bus for the preschoolers...so that means, four mornings a week, I dress all three younger ones down to hats and mittens, scrape off the van, drive to the school, unload the double umbrella stroller, strap them in, and herd them into the school.  I then repeat the procedure again three hours later. 

Connor will not keep gloves on.  He repeatedly takes them off...and throws them.  I need to either buy a roll of duct tape...or buy a coat a size too big and sew the ends of the arms shut.  If it wasn't 12-degrees out with a windchill of so cold Richard Simmons was seen wearing full length pants, I would just give up and forget the mittens.  But when we have to walk through a parking lot and cross two streets to get to the school...I need to do something.

I think I look like a bit of a freak as I come to the school everyday...pushing two toddlers in a stroller with my preschooler hanging on.  I'm certain of it when I pull the stroller out, and then as I unbuckle Owen, a gust of wind sends it rolling into the parking lot, and I am forced to chase it down.  Then, when trying to strap Owen into the stroller, I realize he had one of Irelynn's big, bright clip-on earrings...and he was trying to attach it to my hair.  So, he begins laughing hysterically and yanking, while I'm trying to get it out.  I finally break the earring, and get it out, but my hair is now standing on end.  I finally grab Connor and stuff him in the stroller...retrieve the mitten he just threw...and run with the stroller across the parking lot, the two streets, and into the school...where I find my daughter waiting.

"You're late, Mom." 

"I'm not that late...only a couple of minutes..."

She glares at me.

"I'm sorry, Irelynn."

I have since started giving myself 20 extra minutes...to account for glove wrestling, toddler wrangling, ice scraping, stroller operating, and those last minute diaper changes because Owen is on a pretty strict pooping schedule.  This still puts me there just in time. 

I'm sure I'll laugh about this period of time in a couple of years...when all of my children are in school...via bus.  I will laugh because while I have a few hours to myself, some other poor sucker will have to deal with my children for part of the day...