Ok, so I have been on a bit off a hiatus as of late because, life. Ellie turned one, Chris got a new job, and we moved in with my mom (more on that later...oooff). Anyways, trying to get back and track and relatively normal. Took a nice little mundane trip to the grocery store yesterday, said no mom ever.
There we were, wheeling through the store in the special cart that looks like a truck, complete with two seats, and count em...two steering wheels, which my kid had to turn both of simultaneously because, duh. Produce section. Owned. Deli, sure I'll take some. Dairy, yes I think we need some yogurt, string cheese....what THE fuck is that screech? Whose kid is making that God awful noise (sucks to be her). Oh shit that's my kid.
Come on! Aren't you having the time of your life in this stupid contraption that is wider than a freakin' 4X4, and is clearly built for looks not function. OK! Fine I will pick you up. Got her out off the cart and I am still wearing the diaper bag at this point, which is not going to work for me because I am not carrying a 20lb baby AND pushing the most fucking ridiculous cart in the whole that just is not good enough for the queen of everything miss E. Luckily I just recently perfected this new move, has not been named or patented yet but, you slide the strap of the diaper bag off of you shoulder, let the thing drop to the floor, then you side step out of the strap. This move is especially good for preventing things like: dropping your kid! Throwing out your shoulder! Ripping your headband and sunglasses off of your head while you struggle to escape the death grip of your diaper bag whilst maneuvering your giant baby around on your hip.
Moving on, dairy. "Daaaaaattttt!" The age where you kid has the brain compacity to recognize and request things is amazing and horrible. String cheese why you gotta be so delicious? "This? Yes we will get some string cheese...." This is the point it was ripped from my grip and the baby started to naw on the outside of this packaging which just makes my skin crawl. "Ok let's, put it into the cart. High pitched SQUEALLLLLLLLLL. You have never seen someone open a package of string cheese so fast in your life I can promise you that.
For now the beast is tamed and I know that I am on borrowed time here and better wrap it up fast. Cheese is gone, not the beast is back on the prowl, eyeballing and reaching for everything that I put into the cart. Now she is just straight over this shit. Wants to get down and WALK. Now normally since it was my day off and I am in no hurry I would let her. There was just one small problem, when we got her dressed that morning before our quick trip to Barnes & Noble, I put her in these adorable glitter Mocs, 50% because they are cute 50% because the only pair of sandals that she has that fit right now are purple and they didn't match. So, we get into Nobes and she is walking aroun weird, so I look at her Fred Flintstones and they are smashed into these shoes like Vienna sausages. So I, had to take them off and now carry here around there. Now, yes my kid Is shoeless in the grocery store and there is not a change in hell I am letting her walk around on this salmonella greased concrete.
CUE: backbend in a fit of protest. You know what I did. I kept freaking shopping! How did I get here? I promised I would never be this person "she should just leave her cart" "why would she just keep shopping" "she needs to leave" I deserved this. I was so young, and dumb, and naive. This was just bound to happen. All I wanted in this moment was for ONE single shopper to be someone who would take pity and me and give the Katniss three finger salute in solidarity like "I feel ya girl." But, no such thing happened, I did get several scowls from elderly shoppers whose day I clearly fucking ruined with my meer existence.
Luckily she got a grip on her life before it was time to pay. And me? I ate every last crumb of that humble pie the universe served up.
Shauna Hyler, mommy of two beautiful girls! Working, blogging, and adventuring with the hubby and my sweet girls.