Being a typical Monday, there were many miles to cover to get all the children to and from their various activities. Doug took over getting Tommy to and from therapy since I haven’t found a way to clone myself yet. I took the three youngest to Noah’s karate class. Evan immediately decided he was hungry which is fine except that the place was packed and I was sitting cross-legged on the floor. Luckily Noah doesn’t get embarassed or he might have complained about being the only person there whose mother was sitting on the floor breastfeeding and singing like a crazed hippie. Amy decided to take herself potty while I was feeding Evan but left the bathroom door wide open. I considered trying to hoist myself off the floor and crossing the crowded room to close the door but with a baby attached I decided I would be a bigger spectacle than Amy. Crazy hippie moms don’t care if their children close the bathroom door. Amy made her way back and I praised her for staying dry all day. Karate class is primarily a loud activity but for a few minutes each class the music is turned down and the students listen quietly to the teacher. It was during this moment that Amy loudly asked me “Did Evan come out your butt”. I tried to hush her so I could whisper a better explanation but she just shook her head and stomped off while announcing to the already aghast parents that “The baby came out your butt”. Crazy hippie moms have very confused children. At this point I stopped making eye contact with anyone in the room and decided to have a conversation with a well-fed, happy Evan. From across the room Amy sensed that she was not the center of my attention. Amy appeared in an instant, grabbed the edge of the blanket where Evan was wiggling and she pulled, hard. Evan flipped over onto his tummy before I slapped my arms down on the blanket to prevent Amy from removing it completely out from under her brother. I rolled Evan onto his back and Amy flopped down beside him. I played along and made faces and sounds at the both of them while holding their bare feet. This moment of bliss lasted only a few minutes before Noah was finished and it was time to race through traffic to pick Sarah up from her student council meeting. I buckled Evan in his infant seat and asked Amy to hold my hand. Nope. Amy was still on the floor kicking her feet in the air and proclaiming herself a baby. Crazy hippie mom must neglect that poor attention starved 3-year-old. I eventually managed to get everyone to the car and mentally encouraged myself that we would be home soon. As soon as we were stuck at a red light in a left turn only lane, Amy spoke up. “I hafta go potty.” Crazy hippie mom thought about how much easier it is when little boys have potty needs while traveling. Doug can take Noah to his next karate class. I’m staying home.