Taking Kids To The Grocery Store

On Monday I took both boys to the grocery store for our weekly shopping. I should have just driven my car into the glass doors and through all the aisles, that would've been cheaper and less messy.

The Boy had made a paper polar bear at school that he was super excited about. Sometimes I don't let him take a toy into a store, explaining that if they sell that same thing there they might think we didn't pay for it. As we pulled up at Publix he said "Do they sell art at Puglix?" When I asked him what he meant, he said he wanted to take his polar bear in to play with in the cart. I assured him they didn't sell polar bear art (but how sweet is that?) and he could take it in if he kept up with it.

The Boy started asking for a cookie as soon as we walked in. Hearing that, BeYoYo started asking for a "kiki" too. "Kiki! Kiki!" he repeated. I told them they'd have to behave for two aisles to get their kikis. Kikis ain't free, boys. Not understanding that, BeYoYo threw his sippy cup on the floor in anger. Then we passed the BOGO section, which had the little packages of cut up cantaloupe. The Boy asked for some, and I put two packages in the cart. Before I knew it, he'd torn into one of them and was eating cantaloupe in the cart. Seeing this, BeYoYo starting screaming "BIE! BIE!" (bite bite), and The Boy started passing cantaloupe pieces up to his brother in the front of the cart. I surveyed the situation and surmised that this could buy me some time, and I started maneuvering quickly around the produce section. "Do you want navel oranges or cuties?" I asked The Boy. My voice said leisurely and patient, but my hands and feet moved quickly. A stranger told me BeYoYo was only wearing one shoe. I assured her I had the other in the diaper bag. Who has time to put a shoe on a kid in a cart when you're rushing to finish before someone melts down? The Boy played with his polar bear.

We carried on for several minutes, them entertained by cantaloupe dripping down their chins, and me speedily tossing things in the cart where they would fit. Y'all, before I had kids there was a grocery list. There was a rough meal plan for the week, and there was a coupon notebook. I strolled down the aisles at a leisurely pace, referencing my list that included sale items and which coupons corresponded to them. I checked to make sure that my coupon for granola bars was indeed for the 12 pack I had in my hand before putting it in my cart, which might have been organized by package type. Now it's a mad dash like the middle of a horror movie, moving as fast as I can and tossing in any items that are on sale. Or that are close by. Or that look healthy. I might as well call Publix and ask for one of everything.

We made it through 2 aisles before they got restless. Ah, it's time for a cookie! I announced. We headed back over to the bakery to get a cookie, then back to where we left off. This process is not efficient to say the least. They inhaled their cookies in about 7 seconds, before we even finished that aisle. Mysteriously the cookies contributed to mass amounts of shirt crumbs but they bought me exactly 0 minutes of shopping. If Stephen Hawking wanted to discover black holes of time, he should have researched giving a kid a cookie at the grocery store.

The Boy chatted endlessly about his paper polar bear. "Look mom! He's doing a flip! Wheee!" BeYoYo continually threw anything he could get his hands on out of the cart and into the floor. He'd sign milk, then when I'd give it to him he'd throw his cup on the floor and laugh. Then when he'd sign it and I refused to give it to him he'd shriek. Another stranger let me know that BeYoYo only had on one shoe. I smiled, thanked her, and told her I had the other one. "It takes a village!" I said, as we sped away.

We saw at least 4 people that we knew, not to mention the ones that might have seen us but walked the other way before we made eye contact. A friend from church, one of my clients, The Husband's former coworker, and one of The Boy's friends all stopped and spoke. Hello, small town. Mothers that we didn't know gave me the sympathetic eyes that said they knew the struggle. As I apologized for being in one woman's way, she said "No, no. I have two that aren't with me today. I'm going as slow as I can because this feels like vacation."

Three fourths of the way in BeYoYo started signing all done. That's the cue for "pick me up. Now." When I told him we weren't all done, he signed please. Pitiful of all pitifulness. Then the shrieking started. That's his new trick when he's not getting what he wants. So I opened a box of cereal and gave them each some. "Mo! Mo!" BeYoYo said, for more. I charged The Boy with doling out more for him, as we moved on to the frozen food section, but BeYoYo cried because he wanted to do it himself. The Boy whined that his polar bear wasn't able to get any cereal because his brother was hogging it all. So I facilitated that between putting waffles in the cart and checking the expiration date of the milk. "Mo! Mo!" followed by "mo" shrieking.

Then The Boy said he had to go to the bathroom. "Sorry" he said, after I sighed. I bent down to his level and told him he did not do anything wrong. Could we toss a little guilt in the cart, too? So I picked up BeYoYo, who was happy to be out of the cart, then I held The Boy's hand to help him get out. He stepped on a frozen pizza as he was climbing out, and I tried not to wince. We went to the bathroom, where BeYoYo insisted on washing his hands too (good call, kid).

How long do marathons take? 5 hours? Because that's how long we were at the grocery store. At this point in the grocery trip people should start passing out little cups of water and cheering you on to the finish line. Maybe offer half a banana for sustenance. Maybe someone could hold up a "almost there" poster, would that be too much to ask?

We were almost ready to check out, but I grabbed a 4 pack of wine in a can because I needed it, and because I didn't trust us with a glass bottle. I had BeYoYo in my arms and The Boy trailing alongside. BeYoYo wanted to get down, but I knew he'd run away, so I was holding him in one arm horizontally. We pulled up to the check out, and an angel from Heaven (or Publix) appeared and started unloading our cart for me. Hallelujah. But then he held up the empty cantaloupe container and asked suspiciously "what was in this?" I told him it was cantaloupe. He said "did you eat it?" as though I'm in the habit of just purchasing empty containers. "Yes", I told him. "They ate it, and I'm going to pay for it." He seemed confused as he put it on the conveyor belt. Next he got to the open box of cereal. "Did you open this also?" MY GOD HAVE YOU NEVER SEEN A CHILD HERE BEFORE? "Yes" I tried to smile at him, while BeYoYo squealed to get down, and I turned around to see that The Boy had his mouth on the nearby hand rail. I asked him to stop, and told BeYoYo he could not get down. He shrieked.

The bagger who had never seen a human child in a grocery store then grabbed from the cart the little wax paper pieces that the bakery had given us the cookies on, and in one swift motion also grabbed the paper polar bear and wadded it up with the wax papers headed for the trash. Time stood still as I shouted "That's his art! That's his art!" His stood and stared at me. "That's his art in your hand! That paper isn't trash, it's art!" I looked at The Boy to see if he'd noticed, and his eyes were big with worry. The bagger saw the crumpled art in his hand, uncrumpled it, and handed it back to me. "Sorry" he said. "I didn't know." I assured him it was okay, then I showed The Boy that it could be fixed. He was fine, and later he said that maybe I had turned into a polar bear for a minute.

By this point the groceries had made it on the conveyor belt, no thanks to me.  I made it up to the cashier, who looked at me and said "Do you have your hands full?" Just because you yell at ONE bagger that he was trying to throw away your kid's precious artwork, and just because you have ONE wriggling, squealing toddler in your arms and another kid mesmerized nearby people start to think you have your hands full. I smiled and nodded. "One day you'll look back on this and appreciate it." she said, which is useless, and implies that I don't appreciate it already.  You don't tell someone standing in the middle of a tornado how beautiful the weather is. I smiled a big southern smile and said "I already do appreciate it. Some days more than others." Now give me my groceries and my polar bear, and we'll be on our way.

When we got home it was almost dinner time. The Husband came out to help me unload groceries, because he is great at that. But I handed him children instead, and told him I'd get the groceries. "Were they bad?" he asked. "No, but they're little and there are so many of them." I answered. They were covered in cantaloupe juice, cookie crumbs, and little pieces of cereal. Seeing my exhausted expression The Husband opened me a can of wine as I unloaded. "Did you get anything for dinner?" he asked, with baited breath. In all seriousness I replied "I have no idea."

Urine Luck

A group of school counselors in a nearby town hired me to come and speak to them about play therapy (like a professional), and today was the day. I was SO excited, because I love public speaking, and I love play therapy. I had packed up some games and some handouts and had everything ready.

Then about 30 minutes before it was time for me to leave I started having symptoms of another urinary tract infection. I had some serious frequency and urgency, I peed about 45 times, and truth be told, I peed my pants. 

Our sitter came, and I quickly ran in our room to change. I had on black stretch pants and didn't have time to compose a whole new outfit, so I just grabbed my black Cuddl Duds and let those be black pants for today. I had on a long-ish shirt, so I was hoping I wasn't looking like a woman trying to pass off Cuddl Duds as pants, which I was. Plus, it was black on black, so that all blends together, right? 

I went to tell The Husband goodbye. He thought I'd already left, so I explained to him that I'd been peeing every 5 minutes and wetting my pants. "How am I going to give this hour-long talk if I have to pee every 5 minutes?" I snarled at him, like it was his fault. "Well," he said "just tell them in the beginning, 'to keep things interesting, I'm going to be sporadically running out of here, because that's what kids might do when you're working with them.'" Thanks, but let's call that Plan B. 

So I hollered bye to the sitter and dashed out. I called my BFF Kati from the car and explained the situation. "You need some Depends" she offered. I didn't know where the place was I was going, and I didn't know if I would have time to stop somewhere to get some OTC meds. "You don't have time not to" Kati suggested. The Dollar General was the only thing on the way, so I was hoping they'd have some UTI meds and I wouldn't have to seek out a real pharmacy somewhere out of the way. 

I got to The General in about 10 minutes, where I parked and promptly realized I didn't have my wallet. I called The Husband, who confirmed it was at home in the diaper bag. I had diapers in my car and no baby, but the wallet was at home in the diaper bag. So as I was debating if I should now turn around and go back home to get my wallet, and then stop somewhere and risk being late, or if I should just forge on and risk peeing my pants during a professional presentation, I spotted a twenty dollar bill in my cup holder. Oh, miracle of miracles. I forgot I'd spontaneously gotten cash back when I made my bank deposit this morning! Thank you, baby Jesus and the FDIC. 

I went in The General, stopped by the bathroom (naturally), then found they did indeed have AZO fast acting urinary relief.  Hallelujah, Amen. I quickly read the label, which said it can cause stomach upset so you better take it with food. I hadn't eaten lunch, and surely didn't want stomach upset during my presentation on top of the pants peeing. So I went quickly to the food section and chose some trail mix and an apple. I was rushing, but not quite running in the store, kind of like a loser on SuperMarket Sweep. Then horror of all horrors I had to DO MATH IN MY HEAD to make sure I had enough money for my items like it was the 1990s. Thankfully my math skills were validated when the cashier told me my total. Still living like it was the 90s, I tossed in a birthday cake chapstick as a reward. Woohoo!

I went to the car and immediately took my meds like a strung out junkie who can't wait to get home. I told Siri to get us going, just in time to get stopped by an incoming train. I had plenty of time to take a picture of it for you. Holy heck the first people problems were mounting. When the train was gone I was on my way. I flew down back roads, partly because I was afraid I'd be late and partly because I had to pee. 

Turns out the place was closer than I'd thought and I got there with time to spare. I sat in the car for a few minutes to decompress, but I turned the car off when I got to thinking how I didn't have my wallet, and only about $5 in potential gas money on me. I was starting to sweat, thanks to the stress and the Cuddl Duds. I went in and went to the bathroom just in time to start my presentation. And I'm proud to say that I didn't pee my pants or have to run out of the room the whole time. Whew! I don't think God cares if I pee my pants or not, but I thanked him for it just the same. 

A Year In Quotes, 2015

When The Husband and I went to Alaska I lost my phone in a snow drift. For 24 hours I was living like it was 1998. I have to confess I was grieving a little, mostly over losing my running list of quotes for the year. First people problems all day long. You might remember the lists from 2014 or 2013, where I wrote down ridiculous things The Husband or I said to our kids and offered them out of context.

Here are a few gems that I do remember from that list, so I present to you Quotes from 2015, abridged version. 

"Let's see if we can rot your brains out today."

"It's not really nice manners to put your penis on someone else's head."

"I'm a princess and this shower is my castle. It's surrounded by alligators that eat whiney children."

"Don't put him in the dryer."

BeYoYo says "dot dot" for "night night" and calls his pacie a "bop", so we are continually saying "Bop is for dot dot". 

"He said he can't sleep because when he swallows it feels like there's beef jerky in his ear."

"I need you to make another noise. That's enough of that one for today."

And my personal favorite...

"If you have to put a grasshopper on someone's penis, it needs to be yours."

Greatest Christmas Pageant

Every year I have unrealistic expectations about Christmas. I don't know why I don't learn. The elf brings matching Christmas pajamas, and I think that we will have a sweet picture of the boys sitting still, reading the Christmas story and enjoying each other and the spirit of the season. Fast forward to Christmas Eve, The Husband locking both boys in the sun room while he swept the kitchen and calling to them "you're going to be together for the rest of your lives- you might as well learn now!"

Forget the summer solstice, Christmas Eve was the longest day of the year. The Boy asked 100 times when it was going to be Christmas Eve, and I told him 100 times "today is Christmas Eve." Then he'd respond "but when is it going to be NIGHT?" You and me both, buddy. On Christmas Eve Eve he decided that if Christmas is about giving he'd like to get a gift for Santa's elves. WHO can say no to that?  I let The Boy pick out elf presents when we needed to go to CVS. He chose some Monsters, Inc. monsters, which he decided he could play with before the elves came.

The rest of the day vacillated between anticipation and irritation for all involved. We threatened at one point to cancel all of Christmas. We were going to church at 5:00. About 3:30 The Husband asked if we could leave yet. We got the boys ready in their Christmas sweaters in 75 degree rainy weather. Walking outside felt like being in a boy's locker room. This is where I'd want to get a picture, but everyone was whiney. One was sitting in a corner like Little Jack Horner, so that his brother couldn't get his snack. The other was tired and frustrated that you have no power when you're one.

I asked The Boy if he wanted to make a holiday video of him singing a Christmas song. He did, and I placed him strategically in front of the scenic fireplace, the stocking holders spelling out PEACE behind him. But then when I pressed record his song was all about butts and I walked out of the room, a director on strike over an actor being unprofessional.

We went to church and The Boy's class joined the big kids' Christmas pageant to sing This Little Light of Mine. Somehow a 3 year old girl got a hold of the mic, and while all the kids were singing her voice was loudest. Then maybe the other kids realized that she was the songstress, and they all got louder until they were yell-singing I'M GONNA LET IT SHINE all on top of each other.

BeYoYo was thrilled that grandparents were there, and he grunted to be passed back and forth between them. While the congregation sang Silent Night he shreiked and shrilled, and was anything but. I thought to myself it was a good thing that Jesus came as a baby because he would appreciate this. When the pastor was explaining that all are welcome to the communion table, The Boy started to get up and walk toward the front. I told him it wasn't time yet, and he said "but mom, I'm just going to the nativity scene." I shook my head and gave him The Mom Eyes, and he said too loudly "but MOM! The animals here aren't breakable!" Apparently he was planning to go up and play with the nativity scene during the service. It was all very The-Greatest-Christmas-Pageant.

By the time we got to The Husband's grandmother's house BeYoYo had fallen asleep in the car. We woke him up and took him in to eat and play with cousins.The kids played and ran through the house and thoroughly enjoyed each other. They opened gifts and it was loud and chaotic. Kids yelled for parents to open things. Parents yelled "who was this from? Did you tell them thank you?" Kids yelled their thank yous robotically, while searching for the next gift.

Thankfully both boys fell asleep on the way home. We paused to let them tell the elf goodbye and carried them straight to bed. We went soon after. Santa came in the night and left a few gifts for the boys. The Boy was happy, and said "can you believe Santa got me everything I wanted?!" Santa had brought exactly 4 things, and I smiled a mama smile inside knowing that Santa had not brought the hot air balloon or other elaborate things he'd wanted, and he was content all the same. For a minute at least.

The Husband and I got BeYoYo a seat for my bike, and The Boy a 4 wheeler from Craigslist. I figure with the money we saved we can pay for all the urgent care bills we're sure to accrue. We all went outside to play in our pajamas, and neighbors had gotten crazy carts, which they were playing with in the cul-de-sac too. The Boy got mud all over his appliquéd Christmas pajamas while digging for worms, and they are now ruined. I tried SO hard not to let that bother me. Apparently making children come inside to change clothes is not the spirit of the season.

Christmas Day worm

Later on Christmas Day more grandparents came over with more gifts. Aunts and uncles too. The boys got matching spiderman pjs that they immediately put on and left on for almost 36 hours.

The next day we were back at the mother-in-law's house for more gifts and cousin play. Then the next day we went to Atlanta to be with my family at my cousin's brand new house- more gifts and cousins and fun and chaos and karaoke. One of my boys bled on one rug, another got red velvet on another. I walked in the kitchen to find The Boy fully outstretched on the island, helping himself to some cookies out of his reach.

Someone this holiday season posted a Brene Brown quote that said "the magic is in the mess." If that's true we're the David Copperfield of the holidays. Deep breaths.

This picture is a little perfect for a quote on messiness, don't you think? 

The holidays are a whirlwind for us. They are busy, they are exhausting, but they are fun. Mostly. Here's our version of Rocking Around the Christmas Tree.

Riding around the cul-de-sac

letting the wind blow through our hair

Who do you want to bet will be

The first to go to urgent care? 

You will get a sinking feeling when you hear

Grandma and Santa bought the same Darth Vader, 

you mixed up the lists this year! 

Rocking around the Christmas Tree

All the cousins having fun

Line them up for the paparazzi

Two elves are better than one

Rocking around the karaoke machine

Which song are you going to sing? 

Which kid just ruined their brand new rug?

And can you pass mama a drink? 

You will get a vicarious hernia when you see

All these gifts the boys were given

Blame the grandparents, don't blame me!

Rocking around the Christmas Tree

We're drowning in Dinotrux

Star Wars, Ninja Turtles, Superman

All the pieces make me want to cuss

Rocking around the Christmas Tree

Our only caroling is about butts

The baby got a remote control dog that poops 

These boys are making me nuts

You will get a nauseous feeling when you hear

Sure it's been more than two days, but can't we just wear our spiderman pjs? 

Somebody remind mama at the next holiday

Toss out the expectations

This is our new old fashion way......

Glory Glory to Ole Georgia

This time of year we reflect on when the crowds cried "Crucify him! Crucify him!" and the man in charge washed his hands of this, telling the people he was only giving them what they wanted. Of course I'm talking about Mark Richt getting fired. It's the end of an era.

Luckily we took The Boy to his first UGA football game a few weeks ago, so he can say he went to a Mark Richt game. We tailgated with friends, he watched college kids toss a ball in the parking lot, he peed in a toilet that features rival mascots in the bowl, he walked around campus in his Super Dawg cape, we talked to friends, saw the Dawg Walk, and ate dinner at Bolton Hall. He even got a waffle with a G in the middle. A kid's dream.

I know that football is frivolous. It seems ridiculous and trite following the terrorist attacks in Paris, and the shootings again last week in California. But I would be lying to you if I said I didn't tear up a little when that boy entered the stadium on his daddy's shoulders. I'd been in that stadium more times than I can count,  with tens of thousands of people laying aside politics, religion, socioeconomic status, race (okay, maybe not so much race), and education to cheer for our team. There are a lot of things wrong with college football, but the sense of community it brings ain't one of them.

The first time I went to a game I think I was nine. Our friends, the Millers, often drove up for the games, and they invited us to join. Their daughters, Bethany and Jennifer, cheered all the cheers and sang all the songs, and I sat there with big eyes asking them to repeat what they were saying and translate for me. Their daddy hooped and hollered and laughed his contagious laugh. I don't remember if we won, but I remember eating frozen lemonade and sitting in the warm sun in the end zone taking it all in. I was hooked. When their daddy died much too young I would cherish the memory of that warm day and his big smile.

From then on I started watching games at home with my dad. He'd turn down the TV volume so we could hear legendary announcer Larry Munson call the plays, as is custom for any dawg fan. I went to games when I could, and in high school I decorated my bedroom in red and black and adorned my walls with news clippings about the players and the games. I only applied to one college: UGA, and Santa brought my acceptance letter on Christmas Eve my senior year.

One of my favorite games ever was when we played Georgia Tech in what must have been my 8th grade year. I think Hines Ward was still playing. I was at my grandparents' house, and my mom and Grandmama were out shopping. My granddad and I sat in the living room watching the nail biter game together for hours. When we won in the final minute, he and I both jumped up and down and yelled for our team. After The Husband and I got married there were a few Saturdays I remember driving the two hours back down to their house to watch football with my granddad again. I wish I'd done it more.

In college The Husband and I went to all the games we could. We got there early and stayed out late, and stood in the student section that smelled like beer and immaturity. We tailgated with friends and yelled to our team. We watched hype videos the week leading up to the game and talked about which players were out due to injury or arrest. When we were planning our wedding we arranged for Larry Munson to record our first announcement as husband and wife. Sadly he had a brain aneurism just before.

So here we were, continuing the next chapter of this tradition, and yes, I teared up. The nostalgia wave rushed over me faster than you can sack a quarterback. I thought of how lucky this boy was, with wonder in his eyes as he asked "could you believe how big it was going to be?" in his daddy's arms. I thought how he doesn't even know how lucky he is, and how many times the same could be said about me. As trivial as football is, it means much more than a score and the men on the field. College football is a glorious tradition that encourages sportsmanship, builds character, instills pride in community, and connects us with generations past. Unless we lose, and then it's just a game. I didn't let The Husband see the tears in my eyes, because he would think it was just about football. 

We found our seats and pointed out the important things in the stadium. The Boy cheered. He sang. He waved his pom poms and generally enjoyed life. 

Then two minutes and ten seconds into the game he said "I'm ready to leave now" in classic four year old style. I let him play on my phone and talked him into staying until half time. I talked up the redcoat band, and that piqued his interest enough for us to trudge through. Then after the opponent's band played exactly one song he said "okay, can we go?" And so we did. 

Trying out his Trump impression? 

All in all it was a great day passing the torch to the next generation of dawg fan. I asked him the next day what his favorite part had been, and he said "getting to eat fruit loops for dinner!" Glory Glory to Ole Cereal.