Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Crazy or a Survivalist? or Both..



It wasn’t until recently after taking an anxiety test online and being declared by all the wisdom and authority that a 45 question online test can have, that I supposedly have severe anxiety. This was much to my surprise so I used my Instagram account (@brookelynne313) to poll my friends to validate my unbelief. They did no such thing. In fact, my sister commented that the emergency stash of food in my car and life jackets for the whole family under the seats my in fact point to the fact that I may be a smidgen anxious. Well… I did the tactful thing and made fun of her aversion to aluminum products (especially tin foil), although I’m sure that will save her kids’ lives in an emergency far more than life jackets under the seat may save mine. :) 







              Where am I going with this? You mean other than accidentally convincing the small following I have that I am indeed bat guano crazy? Well I assure you I’m going somewhere with this… Today at the mall, after riding the carousel, after story time, after walking around the whole mall, I ventured to make one last stop in the food court for lunch right before heading out to the car to go home. The impending doom of nap time was upon me and my three kids. They are 4,3, and 1 mind you. I sat the 4 and 3 year old at a booth as I ordered and my son proceeded to fill his trusty dump truck up with a load of salt behind my back and my daughter pulled my hair so it stuck straight up; this also escaped my notice. The cashier asked “would you like that for here or to go?”
Now remember, I had crazy eyes from it being nap time, my hair was now sticking straight up in all directions, and the kink in my neck from sleeping entangled with 3 children who crawled in my bed this morning was causing an awful head twitch just in time for this opportune moment. Without thinking I said “we’ll stay and eat here but put it in a to go box please just in case we need to bug out.”  The cashier gave me quite the look. I dare not tell her us hill billys just made our way up here to New York from Alabama. “thanks ya’all” I said  after I paid. Whoops! I might have just validated their war of Northern Aggression with my stereotypical ways. (I’m so just kidding here). Well on the way home, of course all three kids fell asleep in the car and I was left with my thoughts. A dangerous time for me indeed. Here is what I have come up with:
People are confusing my totally functional organization for travel with 3 babes as an anxiety ridden survivalist mentality. The fact that I consider myself a libertarian probably throws some grenades onto the fire too. (Pun intended.) Now, let me assure you guys I am no Ron Swanson. Honestly! Now there is nothing wrong with him, and in fact he is pretty awesome in my opinion. I wish I had some bars of gold buried on my property but unfortunately I am just trying to survive day by day not decade by decade.
Now this is a hard thing for people with no kids, people with just 1 kid, or even just kids spaced further apart to understand. Read this carefully so you get it.  WITH MULTIPLE YOUNG CHILDREN, IF YOU HAVE TO GO BACK TO GET SOMETHING YOU HAVE TO DRAG ALL THE SCREAMING CHILDREN WITH YOU, NOT JUST YOURSELF AND NOT JUST ONE. ALL! OF! THEM! And when you have more kids than hands this gets even more complicated. Hence the mommy survivalist kit in the car. Food, drinks, diapers, wipes, sunscreen, bug spray, change of clothes, coats for everyone, baby carrier (for if I have to start strapping kids to me top make my escape), solar charger (for the imminent call I have to make in an emergency when my phone will be undoubtedly dead from distraction overuse (a sad sacrifice that poor platoon mate always makes in the line of fire)………………
…….You know what? Fine. Just call me a survivalist. I am a survivor. I walk into that mall, dodge the landmine toy stores, make a b-line for the accomplishment of our mission- Story time, when my troops get so tired they defecate on themselves I throw myself into the line of fire and I save their behinds (quite literally), I keep morale high by singing marching songs from my prepared repertoire. We get deep inside the fortress of Pottery barn Kids with landmine toys everywhere just waiting to set one of my kids off, in fact the new fall rocket McKenzie backpack draws me in, it would be so perfect for future missions….. but I resist! We make it to The cleverly disguised intel. that is way in the back across from the raging sea of summer clearance items. Yes, even my young troops have learned to recognize what those red flags mean. But we get in and get out without losing any troops to meltdowns.
Now Fast-forward back to the food court where we replenish our supplies and rest a while. After leaving the cashier a hefty tip (in hopes she will be confused by the gesture and now consider me eccentric instead of insane,) we have appeased the natives and are heading for a rendezvous at twelve hundred hours. Just when we thought we were safe, an explosion of salt goes off when Bravo-Alpha-Papa detonates it. “Bug out!” I yell! I collect all the troops and our new “bug out bag” of leftovers and we retreat. Screams echo in the food court.
See now the bug out bag makes sense…right??? I told you I was going somewhere with this. Mental “quirks” if you will, (I prefer to think of mine as an enhancement), don’t become a disorder until they cause an impaired ability to function in everyday life. So far my mommy survivalist ways have enhanced my ability to brave the battlefields of malls, amusement parks, zoos, aquariums, restaurants, and national monuments all over this great Country and parts of Canada. My platoon and I have traveled all up the west coast, crossed the country, and drove up the East coast. We have ventured on planes, trains, boats, and automobiles. We have crossed the Erie canal and hiked Niagara Falls. So maybe, just maybe, I am not anxious at all. I am so “enhanced” in tactical warfare that I am cleverly and specifically equipped to handle my mission at hand. Severely anxious! SMH!

Transmission Ended. From New York.

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