Some super heroes pack a punch, but Supermom also has to pack the odd picnic – a healthful one, obviously – and at one minute’s notice!
I was browsing through some photos when I came across this:
I couldn’t help but smile as I remembered the 30 minutes that preceded the shutter click. It had been one of “those” days when Three-Year-Old was pushing his little brother, grabbing toys, and would have been pulling One-Year-Old’s hair if he really had any. One-Year-Old, in turn, was whining, moaning, clinging, whinging, pawing and otherwise making himself popular with both his mother and his elder brother. They both had cabin fever, I had a distracting deadline, and the tensions were rising like a tsunami doing begging tricks.
I remember my brain grunting: “Must… get… out…” I didn’t really have too much time to think (I doubt I would have been able to over the hum of whinging and wailing). As the blessed Durban weather was on our side, I decided a picnic was in order. I put a small pot of popcorn on the stove and started throwing useful-looking things into the nappy bag. For snacks I chucked in some fruit, water bottles, rice cakes, seeded crackers and peanut butter (with a spreading knife to make fresh at the picnic, I should say so that they would be fresh and crisp but really it was a time saver).
By the time the popcorn was done I’d slung the bag on my shoulder and had a boy under each arm.
Fifteen minutes later we arrived at the Botanic Gardens and found a lovely dappled spot for our picnic. I sms’d a friend who shortly joined us with her little ones and they, too, loved the “spread” I’d laid on.
Funny, when I think “picnic” I usually think time-consuming quiches and fancy sandwiches, delicately cut crudite with dips and beautifully arranged fruit platters. Picnics also often mean chips, pizzas, tarts, cheeses and other high-fat foods.
Yet this was definitely, in the words of my three-year-old, one of the “best picnics EVER!”
Another stressful day, saved by Supermom! It’s moments like these that get me through the rough days of mothering.
We may have to do a repeat this weekend. Anyone for a picnic?