Another day in psycho-ville

Well, I did a little doctor visit/community grocery shopping run yesterday, and it pretty much went like this, minus the printer episode and adding the fact that I started my period yesterday (haven't really had one yet, which is actually shocking, my friends, considering my track record. Usually they start at about two months postpartum) which explains why I've been feeling like doing things like unscrewing all the light bulbs on the property just enough so that they won't turn back on, just to be mean. It also explains my desire for just a little too much ice cream, and the fact that my tummy is nice and round from being bloated. Okay, enough about periods already, but just let me say that I'm a firm believer in PMS, that it does happen, and that you should pay attention. Be a little nicer to yourself. I believe in self-control, too, though, because I saw what happened to me when I blamed my lack of it on hormones and then found my superstar husband curled up in a ball, whimpering after I blasted him good. That's exaggerating a little, but now my motto is: Politeness at all costs.

Whoa. Rabbit trail. Let's rein this back in. You've probably heard enough of my incredibly crazy shopping marathons with the kids in tow, but I just have to say a few more things about this one:

1. The first thing that happened to me was that I needed to use the bathroom, so I took my Target cart and my three kids into the bathroom with me, and proceeded to absentminded break the button off of my pants, thinking that it was a snap. You know, I went to unsnap them, except that there was no snap, so the button broke off and went flying across the room. Does this happen to anyone else? So I walked around with button-less pants all day. Once again, just sweetly trying to affirm everyone's preconceived ideas about a frazzled mama.

2. It happened. My sweet little undemanding boy has started to ask me to buy him things. I LOVED that he never did this. He was the kind of kid who would point at things and say sweetly, "Isn't that a nice Cookie Monster balloon" and then smile and be happy and just hold that picture of the balloon in his heart to be cherished. But some little bird landed on his shoulder and told him that maybe he could have that balloon. That maybe it wasn't enough just to like it. And maybe if he asked for it, I would pull out my magic papers and buy it for him. And so yesterday he thought he'd try it out. On many things. We're going to have to start talking about money and socio-economic brackets and the fact that this family doesn't just walk into Costco and buy a freestanding basketball hoop. We're at Costco to save money, not spend it on a box of Glade scented candles. We buy lettuce, son. And those big bags of onions, potatoes, and spinach. Also laundry detergent. And garbage bags.

Okay, well, maybe I'll leave all that stuff out, but still. I'll have to help him understand about his own buying power.

3. Okay. Grocery carts. Grocery carts were made with the idea that you might have a more sane child spacing thing going on than I do. The littlest kid rides in the cart, and the older ones walk. Or, at Costco, the two littlest kids ride in the cart, and the oldest one walks. This assumes a lot. It assumes that the kids who are walking have the maturity to do so without causing harm to themselves or to others in the store. Which isn't so much the case with us. My favorite part of the day was when YaYa was lying on the floor on her back and Kid A was dragging her down the aisle by her arm. Or maybe when the YaYa Sister was doing the army man crawl in the freezer section. The bottom line is that YaYa shouldn't be unrestrained in the grocery store. Although, actually, she does really well for a two-year-old I think. But YaYa really shouldn't be unrestrained anywhere when she hasn't had a nap.

I guess I just need to get used to my new way of life. Grocery shopping involves a lot of yelling, a lot of fierce whispering, and sometimes a lot of fun. Like when I was heaving the Costco sized pack of paper towel rolls onto the cart and Kid A burst into action. "I'm SO strong! I can help you! I'm like SUPERMAN I'm so strong."

And then there was the end of the day, when we were home and eating Renee's fabulous tacos with the fixings and Kid A inexplicably yelled, "Wait a minute! Did I eat ashes? Because my belly really hurts." Hmmm.

And there was the Leaf baby. He is a perfect angel sent from heaven. I mean, the child doesn't cry. He got cheated on practically every nap and still, all day he just stared lovingly into my eyes. So, there's that. And there was the end of the day, when I was getting the kids into bed (Did I mention that Chinua is away for a few days, to sing at his friend's wedding?) and I pulled a Dora and asked them what their favorite parts of the day were and Kid A said driving, and I said that story about the paper towels, and then I asked YaYa and she echoed "towels" and then we sang and we prayed and I felt this burst of happiness, like finally we were on top of the day, and the day was not on top of us, and all the craziness faded away and my sadness in missing one of my best friends who moved away, and then the kids were sleeping and the house was quiet and I sat down and checked all my working parts and found that everything still worked and then I just listened to the quiet.