MLK=NYC

Not really in the true spirit of the holiday, but I had the itch to take the kids to the city.  Not always the greatest idea when the rest of the school population has the day off, but we did get lucky with parking, and that always puts a spring in my step.  So off to the Metropolitan Museum of Art we went.

Any parent knows, the key to successful museum trips is brevity.  As much as it killed me to whiz by every painting and nearly every sculpture, I kept the trip focused for my own sanity and in an attempt to make happy museum memories.  Arms & Armor - check.  Egyptian mummies - check.  Cafeteria with greasy food and sugary dessert - check.  Trip down to dad's office to say hi to dad - check.   Then home.  Two out of three slept in the car.  Of course, number three, who's almost three, cried "I need you" loudly and squirmed for the last stretch up 95 north.

Oh, and I think the good fortune spread to the cafeteria when I dodged a puking kid by about six inches.  I just heard a dad yell at me and my packed stroller, "Move it!  We need to get to the bathroom QUICK!" I shuffled aside as best I could and one second later there was some modern art all over the rug.  I was glad not to be that dad.

And while the company was endearing and eager if not a teeny bit whiney, I have a confession:   I would have loved to have had three hours in the museum all by myself.  Of course, I would have felt all kinds of guilty though.  Oh, motherhood...