As all moms of more than one know, getting out of the house to do just about anything with the kids in tow can be challenging. I find this to be particularly true at times because two of my three cannot be reasoned with and the third is determined to challenge everything that rolls off my tongue. I had one of these days last Thursday.

Luke and Wil desperately needed haircuts. Now, to start with I knew this was not going to be enjoyable because Wil flat out does not like to be touched by hairstylists, doctors, or dentists – or anyone else who appears to have an interest in anything attached to his head. (the fact that he keeps his glasses on is an act of God! There really is no other explanation.) So Timothy and Wil are in the double stroller watching Luke, the big boy get his hair cut. I am playing referee as Timothy cannot resist pulling Wil's hair (remember Wil does not like this). Luke does a fine job with his hair cut with the occasional complaint about stray hairs irritating his skin and Wil clapped proudly for him when he was done. I thought this was a good sign. Maybe Wil was going to cooperate this time. Nope.

Here’s how we do it. I sit first, am drapped, then Wil sits on me. He does not like the drape on me at all and is working feverishly to remove it, then it gets really complicated when he gets his own cape. That is when the screaming starts. My job is to try and hold his arms down while the stylist cuts. This is no easy task. Wil is strong and very determined to push Kelly, the evil woman with the scissors, far away from his head. He breaks free several times giving her a good shove, she backs away, then moves back in and keeps cutting. All the while his head is swinging from side to side, face down, cheeks beet red with big ole crocodile tears rolling. It is really remarkable that Kelly is able to give him such a good cut. She deserves some sort of special honor for this.

Now you should know that while this is going on Timothy is screaming intermittently. Timothy shrieks by the way. It is piercing and when in public we do our best to preempt this to spare all those within earshot. Crackers, I have crackers. “Luke. Luke,” I call out. He is so engrossed in some completely inappropriate show on in the waiting room that he does not hear me so I get louder. He finally alerts and gets some crackers for Timothy. We go through this more times than I would like even though I asked Luke to sit with his brother and keep the crackers coming. But there I was with screaming Wil on my lap, not exactly in a position to get down and talk with Luke about cooperation and the objectification of women. Sigh.

So on the way home I treat myself to a Starbucks. I think I have earned it. Getting them all inside to get my drink is not without difficulty – or comments from others – but it is worth it. On the way home they are happy listening to Buzz Buzz and I get to enjoy my Iced Toffee Nut Iced Coffee. Thanks Leah!

Get It Down:31 for 21!