This may go against everything that this blog, albeit early in its existence, stands for- but let is serve to show that despite my profanity fueled rants, that I am really a nice mom who is usually open to compromise.
Yesterday was a rainy day in Miami. Which is fortunately a rarity because my mood feeds off of sunny weather which is basically a euphemism for ‘don’t fuck with/talk to/bother/attempt to talk to, me on a rainy day’. the boys were begging us to take them to the Museum of Discovery and Science in Fort Lauderdale. yes, ALL THE FUCKING WAY IN FORT LAUDERDALE (insert eye roll).
Well, my husband gave in. I gave him the glare. To my kids, a smile on my loving mom face. After all, I really do like to hang with my kids in places outside of the house where messes can be made and I don’t have to worry about furniture being destroyed and my thus, my anal retentive anxiety, curbed. we all piled into the mom mobile and drove up. I decided to masculate my husband and let him drive, which really was so I could jam out some work on the crackphone while the kids remained quiet on their headphones watching Uncle Grandpa episodes on repeat. We arrived. Parked. And spent about four hours in the museum, which is far superior to the Miami’s Children Museum. Sorry, but having a fucking LIVE OTTER habitat (!) pretty much puts you in for the win and totally worth the drive. The kids exhausted every exhibit. The airplane simulator. The airboat ride simulator. The weights and pulleys. The building area. The dusty tree house. Then repeated that circuit about seven more times. We even saw an IMAX movie called Tiny Giants by the BBC which was pretty amusing- did you know that mice, can howl?
The museum was having a ‘music day’ where they had live DJ’s spinning house throughout the two floor space. As the kids ran around- Mike and I made drug related/BK (before kids) jokes (OMG, do you feel it yet? did you take half or a whole?), and reminisced in general about all of the exciting heavy bass drops we used to dance to at Club Space until 5am in the days when Paul Oakenfold and DeepDish were the total shitttt. (damn we are old)
Our kids were hungry and the resident in-museum Scrubway isn’t an option for us since the whole ‘yoga mat’ bread issue came up last year- so we decided to hit the road back to the safe and cozy confines of South Beach.
All in all it was a
successful surrender good day. The kids were happy and most of the time, mike and I were benched with our eyes either on our crackphone screens, or on each other. What kids? We even joked about making out. Guess there’s always next time.