Lost my passport to normalcy

Yesterday, one of my good friends and I were headed off to our Investor's Club meeting along with my two kids. I don't like to bring them to the meeting but yesterday I used up my "kid-watching coupon" with their dad in the morning. (He thinks it is my job... I think he is their dad.) I used him as a last resort too, because I know what a cramp it puts in his schedule. But since his older daughter had agreed to do it but then decided to spend the night at her mom's house I figured he needed to deal with her flakiness, not me.
I had my Annual - you know, the one with the stirrups and I can't supervise the children very well from that position. Never mind how weird that experience might be for all of us. Plus I can here the retelling of it in the line at the bank. "Mommy, why was that man ....." or "What holds that metal thingy in there?" I have to say, I have no idea about that one, nor do I think I want to know.
One of the last appointments I brought both kids to was Cole's 9 month check up. Ryan was having difficulty listening... or is it I was having difficulty getting my point across to her? about not climbing on the exam table. The doctor told me she was going to step out of the room so I could have a parenting moment. Yeah, something shrivelled up inside of me at that moment. Anywhoo, I decided after that appointment I would see if I could lessen the number of attendants.
Sooooo, I had to bring them along to my meeting last night. My friend is really great with my kids and I think they look forward to seeing her as much as I do. I told her how much I appreciate her helpfulness with them, too. We had to stop at the store which means unstrapping the two from their car seats and lugging them inside. Never a quick stop when you have to do that. But she is a trooper and gets right in there to do it. When my kids were newborns it was always nice to have someone along to help carry stuff - newborns need a lot of stuff like 30 diapers and 25 changes of clothing just in case you get a couple of poops up the back, plus a couple of shirts for me for when they whoops all over your shoulder. That is not even all of it. I called those people my baby-Sherpas. Life savers.
It is funny to see the differences between my girlfriends and my family. The other night our family gathered for dinner; we all came in separate cars. Daddy and big brother (J) had come directly from a baseball game, big sister (M) came with her boyfriend and Storm Holt arrived in the Yukon. My husband left earlier than the rest of us so he could take J to batting practice. The rest of us finished dinner and then it was time to leave. The little ones were obviously squirmy and getting tired. M and her boyfriend left as I was leaving but offered no help getting us to the car. Mind you I am carrying all the leftovers to go in our fridge, the baby and trying to hold Ryan's hand so that we are careful as we leave the restaurant and make our way through the parking lot to our vehicle. I can do it, but if the situations were reversed I would have offered help. Same thing happened with J when I took him to batting practice yesterday. He just climbs in the car and sits there while I put the two kids and my stuff in the car, open the garage to put his bike away, pick up the recycling can which is laying the street, drag it back to the garage and lock the door to the house. Ummm, HELLO?
The entire car ride home, Ryan fed my friend and I a running commentary on boogers and poop. Not that it wasn't fodder for further conversation between my friend and I. But you know you have lost your passport to normalcy when you just accept these topics as regular conversation.
To quote the Talking Heads and their song Once In a Lifetime: And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile ....And you may ask yourself-well...how did I get here?