The Mart

The world takes all kinds. So does Wal Mart.

I must preface this whole post with the declaration that I am no snob and no elitist. Do I think that I am somehow better than anyone that shops at Wal Mart?  No.  Do I enjoy shopping there?  No. In fact, in the spirit of honesty, let's make that a Hell No (excuse the french).

It is so deeply ingrained in my character to appreciate a good bargain, I will always seek it out. Whether it be out of necessity or simply for the pure joy of knowing that I got a good deal, rest assured,  I will seek out the bargain. So if I know that some particular item is cheapest at The Mart, then to The Mart I will go.

Do I prefer the soft lighting and the hardwood floors in the "lounge" area of our local Fred Meyer? Oh yes! I do. The fact that it even boasts a "lounge" area at all -AND a kiddy play center!-  beckon to every parental fiber of my being. So I do shop there often, but I save it for my fun shopping. For when I need things like special cheeses and butter lettuce and tahini. That is my "happy place" shopping. Wal Mart is for my nitty gritty shopping.

Today I was probably asking for it. It was a busy day filled with swim lessons and running errands and trying to sqeeze in a workout. I had a small window to grocery shop and it lay dangerously close to naptime. But sometimes you just have to brazen it out , yes? So I loaded up the tinies and with a foreboding sense of trepidation we drove to the Mart.  I want to stress that what took place there is no stretch of the truth or exaggeration on my part. I'm keepin it real.

First we encountered a woman who was shopping in her bikini top. (They let people do that?!) Then there was another woman who we crossed paths with in almost every single aisle and every single time she was SHOUTING (I use shouty capitals because she really was shouting) "Bobby Lee! Bobby Lee you are in so much trouble! Bobby Lee you where are you?!  WHERE. ARE. YOU! You stop that right now! Bobby Lee when I find you, you are dead!  BOBBY LEE!!!! (with bass in her voice) when she'd really had enough.  Incidentally, Bobby Lee never seemed to grow tired of exasperating this woman. It was like his powers only became stronger, the more frustrated she got. But hey, no judgements. We've all had our Bobby Lee moments...just hopefully a few decibels quieter....?

There was an unscrupulous fellow who quite awkwardly would not let me walk past him in the aisle and when I finally asked quietly if we could sneak by, he said definitively, "No... But you're a pretty thing." Gah! Radar up! Im not! Im not a pretty thing! Please dont murder me right here in the middle of the cereal aisle! My mental faculties were in order just enough to smile politely, turn, and try not to break out in a full on sprint.

There were arguments with Bigger One over choosing a birthday present for a friend, and a lengthy discussion regarding the benefits of giving more than receiving. There were potty emergencies. Of course there were! My kids, may the good Lord bless them, seem to have to go to the bathroom (ifyaknowwhatImean) every single public place we go. Especially parks. BLURG.

 Long ago we had to establish the worldwide code language for Number 1 and Number 2 so they weren't hollering about having to poop in the middle of whatever fine establishment we happen to be in. Ah, the life of a mother. We try to steer clear of the poop talk, but sometimes it's just inescapable.

 Littler One got cold in the refrigerator section and proceeded to lose it by way of wailing and clinging to my neck while he sat in the front of the cart and I valiantly tried to keep steering and comfort him simultaneously.

When all was said and done, we made it to the checkout line where we waited a very long time, and I entertained with tickling games and letting Bigger One pick out some kind of fruity flavored bottled water. Which turned out to be carbonated. I did not discover this until it was scanned, handed back to me, and I cracked it open at which point it exploded all over the front of me,  the floor, and the little card-slider-machine. (That cant be the technical term for them...?).

 I had to laugh because my only other option at the moment was to curse, and I was still well within earshot of both tiny tenders. Littler One noticed that my shirt was now soaking and clinging to me, at which point he points and giggles and loudly repeats "Boobies! You's boobies Mama!". Mercifully enough, this wasnt until we were on our way out the door.

There was a moment while I was in the parking lot, wringing out my shirt as best I could while still wearing it, and loading up the kids and groceries into the hot, muggy car, - let's say a good 30 seconds there, where I seriously considered taking up smoking. In that moment it seemed like a novel idea.

In the end, I still have nothing against The Mart. But next time I will pack a tranquilizer dart (or 3) in my purse because it's a jungle out there.

Tales from the Trenches: On Cleaning Houses and Cleaning Hearts

I have been rather absent from this blog for the past few months.  So to all five of you kind souls who follow it, "I've missed you!". I have been busy keeping afloat with life, which has left little time to write about life. And when I have had a snippet of free time, I confess I have had my nose so far into a juicy novel I just couldnt tear my eyeballs away until it was done.

In fact, Im realizing that I have been SO absent from this blog that I never even followed up with my other two words for the year. Which, incidentally, are "Gracious" and "Hospitable". But that is another post for another day, my five compadres!

So let's do the fast version catch-up, shall we?

First things first: Italy was amazing. Really, truly amazing and beautiful and romantic. It was all the things I hoped it would be. My personal highlights included a ferry ride over Lake Como, a fancy 6 course dinner in a 200 year old restaurant, and Florence. All of Florence.

In other news, Bigger One has just graduated from preschool. This left me a sniveling, mewling, tear soaked mess in the back row of the audiorium. What can I say, I have a sentimental heart. I must quietly mourn the transition of my first baby from Littleness to Bigness. Is it possible for you heart to swell and contract at the same time? Because that is exactly how I felt, sitting there in that auditorium.

Littler One is now 2.5 and full of the dickens. He is my sweet spirited, mild-mannered boy, but he is also rowdier than rowdy and so far the only thing in the world that brings him real joy is to throw whatever happens to be in his hands at the moment. Obviously, there are only few settings in life where this is conducive. We're working on it...

Husband has been the busiest of all, because after much deliberation and preparation, we have decided to leave the wonderful firm he has worked for and go independant. A very difficult decision to make, but we feel it was the right one. So far it has gone brilliantly, but it's still all quite new. Starting your own business is not for the faint of heart! It has been equal parts exciting and frightening. It's tough to break out of what feels familiar and comfortable, but sometimes you have to climb out onto the longest, scariest branch to get the best fruit.

Other than all of that, it's pretty much been business as usual around here. And by "business as usual" I mean, the children have lost their minds. Literally, they have lost their minds. Its as if school got out, and the very next day my kids learned how to fight with each other. Up til now, for the most part, they have gotten along fairly well. Bigger One mothers Littler One and he is usually fine with that. She would boss him around and he would be happy to oblige. But some deep, fundamental, subterranean shift has happened recently. They fight. Oh, do they fight! Finally this morning, I couldnt take it anymore. I stood at my kitchen counter listening to their ridiculous accusations of  "He wont stop touching me!" and "Bella shoosh! Bella boss me!" and I had to choke down the panic that was rising like bile in the back of my throat. What happened here? When did it happen?! At what point did the train derail?
The past week their attitudes have slowly, inexorably, gone downhill. There has been too much arguing, whining, complaining, and antagonzing, and not enough grace, or forgiveness, or thankfulness. This morning I had one of those "Aha" moments where I realized with a sinking heart that indeed, we have gotten far off track. Amazing how fast that happens, isnt it?

So today, we have been cleaning house and cleaning hearts. I decided to try to get the kids focus off of themselves by having them do nice things for each other. Make each other's beds, get each other snacks, help me clean and organize the house, etc. But getting them to actually do these things is only half the battle. Because, does it really even count if they do it with a rotten attitude? Hardly. It always boils down to the attitude of the heart, yes? I might accomplish a clean house with their help, but if they are grumbling the whole time, then ultimately all I'm accomplishing is a clean room that will be dirty again in 15 minutes anyways.

I am working hard on instilling a sense of teamwork in them. A sense of "you belong to this family and we are all on the same team. So lets help each other out!" (I am literally chuckling as I type this. Doesn't that just sound like a nice little antecdote? It sounds so cheesy but I think that surely there's a valuable truth under there somwhere? Obviously not an easy one though, or I wouldn't be sitting here blogging about it.)

Amazingly enough, after about an hour of pitching in and thinking of each other, their attitudes changed. Like some kind of magic voodoo. Okay, not voodoo. Maybe they were getting high on all the pinesol and comet fumes coming from the kitchen. Either way, I'll take it.
Today, success! Tomorrow? Well success or no, at least its a new day.