Hey, thanks for inviting us. Do you know the shit show we are bringing? Get ready. But don't worry, we'll leave at 7 p.m. Because kids.
Humor Parenting

The Hell That Is Taking My Kids to Your House

Hey, thanks for inviting us. Do you know the shit show we are bringing? Get ready. But don't worry, we'll leave at 7 p.m. Because kids.

By Ashleigh Wilkening of Bless This Beautiful Mess

Thank you for inviting us over to your house. Although I greatly appreciate the kind gesture, if we do decline, it is no reflection upon you, but rather all the reasons why it’s better this shit show stays home.

We Are A Lot Of People With A Ton Of Crap

As a family of five with three kids under the age of four, going anywhere isn’t an easy feat. Leaving our house for whatever purpose requires an extreme amount of planning. Even if we do manage to make it to your humble abode, there is nothing fun about the experience ahead of us. There is a strong probability you will regret extending an invitation to us, just as we will most likely regret accepting.

With two very wild, active, loud toddler boys and a newborn in tow, we are the definition of a traveling circus. Long before leaving my house and arriving to yours, I’ve been up since 5 a.m. planning our arrival, exit and survival strategies.

I’ve packed everything and anything we may need on our visit. If there’s a .01% chance we may need an item, it’s coming along for the ride. Just a few of our essentials include: diapers, diaper cream, disposable bags, wipes, snacks, waters, juices, pacifier, backup pacifier, change of clothes for all three kids, toys, sunblock, mosquito repellant, my son’s beloved teddy, my other son’s backpack full of the tiniest farm animals known to man, children’s ibuprofen, emergency candy for bribing and anything else that will promise to distract my kids. Oh, you have a pool? I’ll add all the water diapers, swim gear, goggles, noodles and other water toys to the list. FML.

What Time Is This Get-Together Taking Place?

Everything revolves around what agreed-upon time we are supposed to show up. This determines when I need to start getting everyone ready and out of the house. I’ll need to plan a good breastfeeding session before leaving and also attempt to feed my boys something of substance, knowing they most likely won’t eat what you’re serving or have on hand. I wouldn’t take it personally – I sure as hell don’t. They won’t touch a dinner I’ve slaved all day over, but they’ll gladly eat a half-eaten chicken nugget they found wedged in the couch from who knows how long ago. Their palates are extremely picky, currently limited to: ‘jelly fellys’ (pb&js), salami, string cheese and mandarin oranges.

Our ETA also determines when I’m giving my boys their naps. In a perfect world, this whole fiasco won’t occur during their regularly scheduled nap time. Ha! For an adventure out of their comfort zone in an unfamiliar environment, I need them on their best behavior and will try my best to squeeze in a snooze before we leave. If this isn’t possible, I apologize in advance for their more than shitty behavior and will most likely bow out early. Maybe we can meet at 8 a.m.? If you have kids, you understand.

Oh, and their bedtime is 7 p.m., so you don’t have to worry about us being those guests who overstay their welcome. We’ll be gone long before then. Oh, your BBQ is happening after that? Nope, sorry, we can’t attend.

We’re Here!

Don’t be too alarmed when you see us arrive with all of our baggage and offspring. The sight may be overwhelming as you watch us pile out of our minivan one after another, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the tornado of chaos that’s about to occur within your home.

If you have kids, especially small ones, this won’t be too painful for either of us. If you don’t, my kids will serve as a reminder of why.

A child-friendly house, filled with toys, pen marks already covering the couch and applesauce smeared on the walls is my dream come true. We will fit right in. Hopefully your kids will be present to play with mine, but then again, that can be a tricky situation. You see, mine are wild beasts who are still learning to share and take turns – by learning, I mean completely rejecting and rebelling against these ridiculous ideals with relentless acts of thievery and selfishness. With this in mind, my attention will be on my little monsters to make sure they are playing nicely. You’ll hear me yelling, “Be nice! That’s not yours! Did you ask first? Put that back!” from across the room, most likely interrupting you mid-sentence as you attempt to have a conversation with me.

I will be spending the majority of my time keeping close tabs on my children, watching them like a hawk, ensuring they don’t break or wreck your shit. It’ll be pointless to sit down, pretend to relax or engage in a semi-meaningful conversation when at a moment’s notice, I’ll need to sprint over to one of my boys who is seconds away from using your fine china as a Frisbee.

Oh, and of course, my newest bundle of joy is cluster feeding, so I also need to be prepared to find a comfortable place to whip a tit out when she commands it.

Does any of this sound like I will be enjoying myself?

Throughout the entirety of my visit, I’m constantly on guard, watching my kids run around your house just waiting for the need to intervene and prevent a disaster from happening. In desperate times, I can be found diverting their mischievous nonsense with potential promises of sugar and bribes. Please, stop chasing the cat. Oh, look! Here’s a cookie.

While conversing with you – or pretending to – I’m focused on what my offspring are touching, looking at, licking, and rubbing their booger, sticky, crumb-encrusted fingers on. I’m also on lookout for signs that my recently potty-trained tot needs to use the restroom, usually demonstrated by his performance of the pee pee dance.

Time To Go!

Disregarding the obvious signs, my husband and I regrettably let this play out longer than it should’ve. As we chase our boys around your house, they’re running away, screaming and yelling, “No go home! I stay!” What makes this spectacle even more embarrassing is how extremely difficult it is to catch them. Damn, those little beasts are fast!

While trying to make a fast escape, my husband has one tot under his arm in a football hold. Meanwhile, I’m tearing one of your belongings from my other son’s grip who had every intention of keeping it for his own. Without enough hands to carry everyone and everything, you’re now left lugging our carrier along with some of our bags to our car.

As we say our goodbyes over the background noise of screaming, crying, and yelling, I’m reminded why it’s often easier to just stay home.

The production involved with leaving our house and coming over for a visit is overwhelmingly exhausting. Hopefully, this will give you an idea of everything going on behind the scenes, so when we do say no, you understand we both are better off for it.

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About the Author

Ashleigh Wilkening is a SAHM of three children under the age of four who spends most of her days on a never-ending quest for a lost toy. She is a lover of caffeine, naps and a generously poured glass of cabernet. On the rare occasion she gets free time, she contemplates taking a nap in the family van, but finds herself exercising as it’s a more legitimate excuse to escape the house. She writes at Bless This Beautiful Mess and can be found on Twitter and Facebook.