"I'm sorry, your Honour ... he's three"

Today is my oldest daughter’s 2nd birthday.

I know some of you are saying: “Wait a minute … every few weeks she starts up about how her baby is having a birthday!”. Well, it’s true. I have them bang, bang, bang: February, March, and April. My new boy will be a June baby (my c-section is scheduled for June 6th) so that means I’ll have to shoehorn #5 into May so I’ll have a birthday straight run.

Or June. Then I could change doctors until I find one who will schedule an induction for the most shallow and self-absorbed of reasons like some of those whinging twinkies on my baby boards.

I don’t believe in unessessary medical intervention and there are a few legitimate reasons to schedule an induction. Because you want to be thin enough to fit into a bridesmaid’s dress in mid-June is NOT one of them, honey.

ANYway … more on my Tall Girl's birthday later - were celebrating Saturday. I'll try to have many tedious pics.

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As my babies meet these milestones I've been reflecting on how proud I am of my children. They seem happy, they eat well (barring the typical toddler I-shall-now-survive-on-air jags), sleep well, are very healthy, and are extrememly well behaved.

*pats self on back*

Of course, they’re not perfect. We have the checkout line meltdown with fair regularity after a long shopping trip. I only get groceries / supplies every 2 weeks and the trip takes place late in the day (after DH gets off) and lasts awhile. No tired and hungry 3-and-under can remain taciturn after a hour and a half in a crowded Wal Mart. Fortunately the trip is not usually that trying.

And … then there’s, uh ... yesterday.

Yesterday I had to go to court (speeding ticket) and of course they’d scheduled it during the babies’ nap-time. So I crashed in, court already in session, with my sleepy-eyed brood.

Boy sat in one chair, Tall Girl in another, and Bitty Girl sat on my lap. Both older ones were dead quiet, just watching, and Bitty babbled softly as she played with my necklace. This is typical of my children. We didn’t have to wait long, maybe 20 minutes.

Then they called me to approach the bench and speak with the Judge.

“110 in a 45mph zone. Great Gravy, Ms Hill, was your ass on fire? How do you plead?”

“Insanity, your honour, I had no idea that a Mercury Villager mini-van with 16 bags of sandbox sand and a half a dozen 12 packs of Diet Coke in it could go that fast.”

But before this exchange could take place I had to get up there. I stood up with Bitty Girl, passed Tall Girl and firmly whispered to Boy: “ I’ll be right back. You sit right here and be good.”

Then, to my utter mortification, like the voice of a tiny, outraged god from up on high boomed these words: “NO, MOMMA!!”

There was a millisecond of stunned silence then the entire courtroom busted out in laughter.

I pled guilty, paid my fine, and quickly left. Next time I go out with my ‘extrememly well behaved’ children, I plan to just wear a paper bag.