Loading
Welcome to Babble,
Settings
Sign Out

Get the Babble Newsletter!

Already have an account? .

MENU

Three Is The Magic Number

No, it’s not.  It’s the kids-are-about-to-outnumber-the-adults-in-my-house number. Hi, I’m Macki and I’m 17-weeks pregnant with number three that’s my bump with each of my kiddos hands.  That means I’m freaking out because my husband and I can barely handle two.  (How the hell did my mom raise four?). I grew up in a small town (Ashland, Or) where having a big family was common. But now I live in a big, expensive city (Los Angeles) where everything is just harder. Not NYC-hard, but still, it takes forever to get anything done in L.A.

Exhibit A: last week’s desperate to satisfy a craving trip to Taco Bell. Now, Taco Bell is two miles from my house and what should have been a 15-minute trip took 90. Here’s why: 1) it’s across the 405; 2) it was 6pm and that means rush hour traffic; and 3) my six-year old girl and two-year old boy antagonize one another like they breathe air; constantly. But I had no choice in the matter. My husband is out of town so I had to make this trip solo because I was in the middle of one of those delightful 24-hour stretches of nausea-but-can’t-vomit and for whatever reason at this moment a Taco Bell Burrito Supreme is the only thing that will make me feel human (also known as a craving).

So I need this burrito. Number three needs this burrito. I am going to get this burrito.

I toss the kids in the car with appropriate, violence-averting distractions (iPad and iPhone) and head out. The trip there doesn’t take long so I get my burrito pretty quickly. But for some reason it’s a parking lot on the way home and 15 minutes becomes 30 and now my boy and girl are on episodes number two, SpongeBob and Victorious, respectively. I eat in the car and I think I feel better but it’s 6:45pm and then I realize: crap. The kids haven’t eaten. Ooops. Why didn’t I buy them Taco Bell?  Who the hell knows? I’m pregnant. There’s a Zankou Chicken on the way home so I take secret squirrel side-streets to avoid the parking lot on Pico.  I weave back and forth, make it to Zankou, feed my sweet, happy children, let them run around and burn off some steam for a few minutes then it it’s back in the car for another twenty minutes and we’re home by 7:30. Ninety minutes of my life spent in traffic, ladies.  Because of a craving. And I’m only 17-weeks with number three. Someone tell me I’m not alone.

You can find me over at the Family Kitchen too!

FacebookTwitterGoogle+TumblrPinterest
Tagged as:

Use a Facebook account to add a comment, subject to Facebook's Terms of Service and Privacy Policy. Your Facebook name, profile photo and other personal information you make public on Facebook (e.g., school, work, current city, age) will appear with your comment. Learn More.

FacebookTwitterGoogle+TumblrPinterest