Crap we're old.
Although my mom is madly in love with my kids, she is a retired nurse who lives alone. Because of this, dropping off 3 rambunctious boys is kind of like blowing a firework off in a church. It's unsettling, and it can throw my mom for a loop. We therefore try to save her for emergency situations only.
But when our babysitter fell through at the last minute this weekend, we turned to Nana. She thankfully agreed.
Several hours later, we returned to find my mom's condo covered in toys, tiny scraps of paper (courtesy of Jack's cutting obsession), and toast crumbs (courtesy of the boys' new toast kick). She looked a little worse for the wear and confessed that she could use a nap.
Yet as we left, the boys proudly showed off their "Pillow Guys" that Nana had fashioned together with old receiving blankets and buttons in an attempt to keep my sons occupied for a full hour:
|Desperate times call for desperate measures.|
And the next time she does babysit, I'm bringing her a Dustbuster.
And perhaps a little Valium.