A Sam Hill Kind of Day

Yesterday was one of those days. You know the kind of day where you are finally lying bed wondering, "what in the sam hill just happened to me!" It was just one of those sam hill kind of days yesterday. All of it involving Chubbers.
Yesterday was a preschool day for Titus and a stay home with Mom and Teensy day for Chubbers. He goes to school on Tuesday and Thursday. Our church has a Ladies Bible Class on Wednesday with child care provided for the ladies until 1:30 and Kendra, craving adult interaction and scenery NOT inside our house, wanted to go. We were all trying to get ready. It seemed like we were herding turtles in a pile of peanut butter, but we were trudging along.
Titus had the brilliant idea that he wanted a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. What he forgot to mention is that he wanted the sandwich minus the jelly. Titus is the kind of kid that does not tolerate corruption of any kind and will reject an entire "fing" with one defect. Ito doesn't' have to defile the thing to be eaten at all, just has to be not the way he thought it should go. Not knowing that it was a no jelly on the sandwich day meant I had to hear the gripping. "Dad, I didn't want jelly on the sandwich it's ruined so I threw it away." "You threw that sandwich away?" "I don't want jelly make me another one." I'm a patient man...long fuse...work with kids as my full-time job..he pissed me off! I couldn't believe he would throw away an perfectly good sandwich. I mean, I made sure that the peanut butter was adequately spread, evenly, on both slices of the bread so the jelly wouldn't make the bread all squishy and wet. Even went to the trouble of unclumping the jelly. Jelly loves to be clumpy and it's no small task to make the stuff smooth and silky. I took the time to do that for my ungrateful ball of flesh. "You may not have another sandwich. that's wasteful." Tears, crying, rapid explanations about how I had defiled the sandwich and it wasn't what he wanted...off to Mom.
Mom, not wanting to get the day off to a bad start (did I mention it wasn't even 8:30 yet?) made him another sandwich. She made the peanut butter and no jelly sandwich and even cut the sniveler's sandwich into squares for easier handling. Enter Chubbers.
At eight months old we learned that Chubbers couldn't eat peanut butter because it made him whelp up. Benadryl helped then and we just avoided giving him peanut butter. Chubbers is the raccoon of our family. He loves to pillage for food and find any scraps he can find. He especially finds joy in stealing his brothers food. Chubbers knows that if he touches any of Titus' food it is an ultimate defilement and thereby his. Chubbers snuck a piece of Titus' sandwich.
I was shaving and trying to get ready so I could help get everyone else ready. Chubbers walked in and laid a piece of that sandwich on my sink, peanut butter side down. He had eaten the top piece of bread and decided it wasn't for him. This piece was maybe the size of a Cheese-it cracker, not so big. "Kendra...give Chubbers some Benadryl he just ate peanut butter." "I have already given him his medicine." I continued shaving then got in the shower. I almost went into my whole obsession about the getting ready process--you are saved...and welcome.
"Will get in here quick." I hopped into the bedroom from our bathroom still drying off.."what's the matter." "Levis' face is swelling get him some Benadryl." She was tending to Teensy and couldn't break free. Towel now wrapped around my waist I ran to the kitchen and got the dose. His left eye was very red, very watter, almost jelly like, and swollen. Prize fighter who lost swollen. Dose down hopefully we are good to go.
Kendra decided to stay home and not go to class since Chubbers was beginning to look like Hitch (Will Smith movie..check it out it's good.). I left with Titus and we were off. Titus to school me to Starbucks to get my Non-fat White Mocha, please stir no whip, thank you very much. Not even the White Mocha could save this day.
About 11:00 Kendra called to say that his face was no better and that we needed to call the doctor. We have a great doctor and he has the best nurse we have ever worked for--ever! She's nice, she's actually nice and cares about the patients she sees-Amazing I know. "Will this is Brandy I got your message, you need to come in at 1:30 today to let us see Levi...is he wheezing?" "Some, not a lot, but some." "He may need to go to the ER." "Call Kendra at home and ask her your questions because she's been there with him." About ten minutes expired when..."Will line 6 is Kendra." "Hello...ok I'm on my way." We were going to the ER.
His face was horrible, just horrible. Chubbers has the most beautiful complexion, gorgeous brown eyes and huge long lashes. he's just beautiful. Not so this morning. Swollen, blood red eyes, watering just a mess. I felt so sorry for him. I wanted to trade places right there on the spot with him and go through this for him. We were off to the Doctor. By the way Teensy was minus the monitor because the battery was all crazy--her first day to be monitor free and that had us keyed up to boot.
Once we got to the ER we joined the rest of the people who had decided they needed to go to the ER. The room was nearly full, as was the parking lot. I was so frustrated trying to find a parking place. The check-in went smoothly and now all we had to do was wait. I don't wait well. "Levi Spoon?" Back into the bowels of the ER.
Anna was the ER nurse who took the initial stats. "he's definitely having a reaction. I don't' think it's anaphalactic shock, but we will get him taken care of." ER waiting rooms are not the best place in the world to children. Especially children who love to lick things--anything. As a certified, card carrying germ a phobe I was grossed out! I didn't want him touching anything. Chubbers didn't really understand, "sit still and don't move too much, just wait." He wanted to explore and discover, push buttons and open doors. This was a wonderland of discovery and he had a mission to go on.
"Mr. and Mrs. Spoon we are going to give him an IV and three medications that should help him out and make him feel better." No parent is ever really ready to hear that your baby is going to get an IV. You try to brace yourself and be ready, but you aren't. The feeling of helplessness is just horrible. I'm a fixer, protector, and let me do it for you person. To be totally helpless and unable to immediately fix my Chubber Chubber was too much. Surprisingly though I didn't cry. Mildred, you would have been proud. She hates any display of emotional breakdown in public.
Pearson gave the IV. He was totally, freshly shaven bald with a beard. He looked to be about 30, really nice guy. He was the kind of guy you wouldn't expect to be a great ER nurse, but he was probably the best one they had. He would have fit better in leather pants on a Harley or in some motor cycle shop on the OCC. "OK, buddy this is going to hurt, just hang on and it's going to be over quick." "Anna and Pearson were holding Chubbers arm, Mom was holding Chubbers I was holding Emma in her carrier and rocking back and forth in a soothing motion. Poke...no screaming. Chubbers just looked at him like, "is that all you got? Bring it!" They were amazed that he was so good. I wasn't he's a tough cookie and just a wonderful baby. All the more reason why he didn't need to be doing this. He got solumedrol for the swelling, then Pepcid which is a blocker for the allergy things and Benadryl which blocks the histamine allergy. They were taking care of all the allergy reactions in three shots covering their bases. Damn the peanut allergy!
We waited for three hours after that and were moved deeper into the bowels of the ER. I guess there is the waiting room...processing room...waiting room again...bowel of the ER wait here get dressed room with a curtain...then the deeper bowel of the ER where the doctor actually sees you room. Chubbers was not satisfied to just wait. The glove balloon was not working, my cell phone not working. Thank God I packed Yo-go's and gummy snacks. Those storehouses depleted all we had to do was walk. I paced back and forth. We looked at this and that. He finally went to sleep.
About 3:30 we saw the doctor and he prescribed steroids and Benadryl for the next five days. We also had to follow up with our doctor for allergy testing. My Mom and Lucy were on their way. Even though the emergency was over they just needed to hold him for themselves. That's the great thing about living close to family and having great kids--family wants to come love on them in times of crisis. I honestly don't know how I could have survived the last 10 months of my life if hadn't been for my family. Especially Lucy, she just calms me down and when she's there I know everything is going to be ok. My big sis always makes everything ok. She'll beat the crap out of anyone who messes with her bubby and she can't stand the thought of me being distressed. That's the kind of Sissy everyone needs a tender and sweet yet kick the crap out of anyone who crosses me kind of sis.
The steroids made Chubbers spastic, rabid dog butt on fire spastic. I missed most of that because I had to go to work and try to make sense out of a lesson with 50 kids waiting to hear something great--they got a movie. Kendra and I were just wiped out. What a relief to see the cavalry come--Nonny and Aunt Lucy are here! Yippee.
We finally went to bed about 10:30 or so. I am usually in bed by 9 and turn into a zombie pumpkin by 10, just not a night owl at all. I can also fall asleep in less than 30 seconds from lying down. I have one spot I get in and WHAM! LaLa land. Not so this night I think it took like three minutes for me to go to sleep. Kendra and I just tried to process the whole events of our day. "What in the sam hill is going on?" "I don't know it's just been one of those days." "Is he going to be ok, can you hear him breath?" "Yeah he's breathing and ok."
This will be first of many crisis involving our kiddos I'm sure. Our rule is only one parent can have a meltdown at a time. Who ever goes first is the one, the other just has to suck it up. I don't' look forward to that kind of parenting, but I look forward to my kids knowing that there Daddy is going to be there. I want Teensy and the boys to know that I will be there to wipe their brow, hold them or their hand, look them in the eye and kiss their temple whispering to them, "Daddy's here, everything is going to be ok." There's not a thing in the world a family can't survive when you love each other. Chubbers knows he is loved. He knows that his Nonny, Sesa (that's what he calls Lucy), Mommy, Daddy, and Bubba are going to be there for him and I think deep down in his mind he has been given that assurance that whenever the Sam Hill days come, he wont' be alone and he will come out on top.

I'll get you my pretties!

I fell in love with depression glass in the mid 90's while working at a church in Oklahoma City. A secretary there and I became friends and she had been an avid collector for years and years. Her collections were vast, cookie jars, Jadeite, you name it and she had a collection of it. It wasn't long before I fell in love the stuff. True to form, I obsessed about making it my job to know as much about depression glass as possible. I read books and looked at Antique stores, didn't really know anything about the Internet then so I couldn't look things up like I do now. I was encourage to collect a thing and go from there. I decided that I would begin collecting cake plates, clear glass cake plates to be exact. They were abundant and cheap, two things that really please me. I probably collected 10-20 of those buggers before I fell in love with more stuff and moved on.

My next obsession was with sugar and creamers. I collected them voraciously and really had a lot of fun. I found that you have to be careful when talking about what you love, like sugar and creamers because people will start giving you things you don't want. New, knock-off sugar and creamers or sugar and creamers with not sugar lid weird duke like that. I loved the collecting of those sugar and creamers and they still catch my eye to this day.

From the sugar creamer obsession I moved on to candy dishes. Oh how I loved that. By the time I fell in love with candy dishes I had decided I loved green depression glass and would just collect the many patterns of green depression glass candy dishes I could get my hands on. It was great fun collecting them and hunting for them in antique malls, antique shows, garage sales, estate sales. All kinds of places to get those little pretties. I was on the prowl for them and would get them!

Here are just a few of the green candy dishes I have collected. These are on our mantle in the formal living room. I just love the color and the design. The dish in the back left is the X-design pattern and very rare. I have never seen any other glass piece with this pattern nor have I seen another candy dish with this pattern. It was a steal and a find to get. One of the foremost scholars of depression glass is Gene Florence. I wrote to him to ask if he could help identify it and never heard back from him. The piece in the back right is called Block Optic. This one is not perfect, the lid to this candy dish has been ground smooth on top, it had a point like it's sisters, but most likely was damaged and ground smooth to make it prettier. No matter to me I love it just the same. The dish in the front is the Ribbon patter made by the Hazel Atlas company. Aren't they just lovely? I have probably 20 or so of these candy dishes in various patterns.

As I got deeper and deeper into the hunt of these lovelies I fell in love with a particular pattern and have refined my search to two things now. Candy Dishes in green depression, and Green Depression Doric. Doric was made by the Jeanette Glass company between 1928 and 1946, it was the Grand Daddy of all glass companies cranking out dozens of patterns. These patterns were sold in catalogs (Sears, Montgomery Ward, etc.) and department stores much like you wold see at the department stores today. They had all sorts of things made in those patterns which means there are hundreds of things to collect (salt shakers, sugar shakers, syrup pitchers, vases, bud vases, milk or water pitchers, tumblers, you name it and they made it.)

Here are two examples of the Doric pattern. The picture is sideways, not sure how to turn it because the last time I tried I lost this whole blog post, so just turn your head with me and gaze. the rectangular dish is part of a four piece bridge set. there are three square inserts to this tray that you could use in entertaining. The piece on the right is a clover pattern nut dish or candy dish, but most likely a nut dish. Their candy dish is way cool. I love how simple this pattern is and yet how complex the design is as well. It's my favorite by far. My two favorite, well three, favorite pieces of the Doric pattern are the Candy Dish, the pitcher, and the sandwich tray. I jut love them. I hope to add to my collection, but don't go after them with as much intention as I used to. Teensy and Boys have kind of redirected my energy to other "family friendly" pursuits.



Here are four other pieces that hang in our formal living room. They are just across from the antique buffet that my Granny had in her house. The green piece on the top is the Doric sandwich tray. It is pristine with no hickeys or ginks at all. I love this thing. The piece on the bottom is a Swirl pattern cake plate. It is unique in that it has a scalloping pattern added to the swirl pattern. The two pieces on the right and left are the result of a brief foray into the pink world, short lived. The rectangular piece on the right is the princess pattern and the piece on the left is the Mayfair pattern. I like how the pink and green play together and allow them to live with me. Had I my drothers I'd rather collect just green and have just green.

I did go through a Swanky Swig stage, but that didn't last long either. Some of the pieced in my favorite collecting categories are very, very expensive. In my life right now I would rather put an extra $30 (the going price for most pieces I collect) in my Starbucks gift card or add it to my lunch kitty. I am happy with my collection as it is and don't even have it all out on display. So to me, White Mocha heaven is much more, "get me to my happy place and fast!" than say a green Doric salt and pepper shaker. Mildred has adopted my clear glass cake plates. Anything I give to Mildred I know goes to a good home because she will love them and love them well.

The path to destruction

I finally have a camera that can chronicle some of the adventures that I enjoy with Teensy and the boys. As you may remember from previous posts, number one son is a construction destructor. He loves to build things and then jump into his imagination and play for hours with his creations. He will play and add and play and add for several hours then, when done, walk away. Such was the case this weekend.

Here is the kitchen, where Titus built a farm. The chairs and basket are the actual farm house where, "home living" occurs. Then you see the pillows and other various things scad about which are the outbuildings, pins, other houses, and a launch pad. What farm isn't complete without a launch pad? You can see number one son in the background scanning the room for more items to add to his construction destruction.

This is another angle. Titus scattered tissue all over floor because he wanted carpet in his home living area. The red gas tank is just that, a gas tank to load the rocket ship up with fuel so he can go on a, "space exploration to find 'fings." He took a break to eat some breakfast while he was building his empire. I made homemade breakfast sandwiches to, hopefully, convert his taste buds over from the frozen swill he was eating. I just can't wrap my brain around factory prepared flash frozen things, I will resist the rant for another blog.

I especially like this picture because it shows you the looks I get some times. This was his absolute depression over the realization that he was going to pick up ALL of his construction by himself without my help no matter how long it took. He was not at all happy with that. "Dad, Dad, it's just too much, I can't take it." Was his reply as he flew himself into the floor and attempted a fit. I told him he should save his energy for the clean up and get busy. It took him an hour to build the empire, two hours to play, and three to clean it up!

His imagination is always firing and I love to walk with him through his imagination and play in the lands he creates. Just a joy.

If that's a snob--call me a snob!

Last night was yet another trek into public with our brood. This was our shopping excursion to Wal-Mart. Our goal was to get the shopping done and eat before American Idol came on. We have two carts now; one that is the two-seater semi-trailer cart and the other is the regular cart. I pushed the semi-trailer through the aisles with the boys and we were off. Teensy's carrier was precariously pitched to such an angle that made her start spitting up. This required a quick adjustment and then a clean up on aisle 12. Once that emergency was resolved we continue our shopping.
There is something about Wal-Mart that makes number one son have to go to the bathroom. Usually after we begin to get our frozen food and perishable things it hits him. Off we go in the Semi to the bathroom. I have to stand outside and watch Chubbers. He was strapped in and we had a cart full of duke so I wasn't going to risk that. I did get a chance to watch someone get their taxes prepared by some person at a tax kiosk. That really amazed me. That is a level of trust I don't care to bother with.
Our check out girl was into chatty chatty checking which I quickly became irritated with. Her commentary on every single purchase was just unnecessary. We had two carts full of groceries, I didn't' want to chat with her about every purchase we were going to make. Holy Cow I just wanted to get i over.
Once the car was loaded we headed to eat. Kendra wanted to go to what I fondly call the Golden trough. It is a chain of restaurants that are mega-buffet with a steak grilling section right in the middle. I did not want to go to the place, I hate buffet restaurants. It was busy, busy, busy, and we lucked out on a parking place close to the entrance. The first thing you see when you walk into this place is a huge maze that potential diners wander through to get their drink order, first round of clean plates, and receipt before the gluttony begins. The railing was just the right height for Chubbers to run under unobstructed which he did straight to the crane games. These games have worthless toys, animals and other things stuffed inside and beckon you to feed the machine dollar after dollar attempting to get the prize. I don't get why that is attractive to some people, but it is.
As we walked around to see the table set up, we now have to look for large tables so we can spread out. I noticed my fellow diners and it creeped me out. That was the first wave of shutter. I knew at that moment that I could never eat in that place again and just hoped that I could make my way through this experience. We sat down and were promptly greeted by our waitress. She herself was a mother of young children and totally got the whole, small child paradox. He had her hair pulled back in a bun and wore a laminated fabric pouch in which she kept her cleaning rag for wiping down the tables. The next wave of shutter came when I realized our waitress was cleaning off the tables that were emptied by diners and also getting drink and roll refills--WITHOUT WASHING HER HANDS. Major creep out on that one. Dirty hands from gross diners who had been sucking the meat off chicken and leaving their scraps on the table touching my roll basket and glass. I can't hardly shake someones hand before I have to wash it. It was a full on corruption violation.
The diners were all dressed as if they had been working in the yard. I saw one girl who was clearly taking a break from hygiene because it was spring break stick her head under the sneeze guard to reach for the condiment she wanted. That barrier is there for a reason! Totally disgusting. Sneeze guards are really gross to me too, they drip you know. Touching the handle of a spoon right after someone else has touched it is gross to me, seeing the finger and nose grease slimed sneeze guard is gross to me. Sliding my plate across a counter that is a sweaty, sticky, puckied up mess is gross to me. The man right in front of me was an older gentleman who was walking in slow motion. Sloth slow! He was trying to retrieve a piece of meatloaf covered in powdered gravy and gave up on the utensil and instead went for it with his fingers. I had to step back and gain control of my gag reflex which was, by that time, in overdrive. I looked for items that were freshly placed and raced to get them. Broccoli, mashed spuds, just cooked steak. Done, now I can go sit down.
People would graze across the dessert aisle and snag a piece of food, then lick their finger or suck their finger clean--gross. Seeing piles and piles of mass prepared food placed on plastic plates and watching devour food as if there were at time limit just grossed me out. That is when it hit me, "I might be a snob." I am totally ok with that. I wasn't rude to the waitress and smiled to the fellow diners, didn't mind that at all, it was just the whole atmosphere grossed me out. My table was slick, and somewhat sticky. That's gross to me.
I guess I could just be a better person and not let it get to me but I just can't help it. I watch people and have all my life. Some folks just gross me out. I felt like cattle being fed, not a pleasant experience.
Maybe someday I'll get over it, but until then I will avoid the grazing trough buffet spread and take my food on it's own plate prepared by a person and touched by a person who has been through a food handling class-thank you very much.

Let Them do Butter!

On my way to my favorite Barista this morning for that delicious Non-fat White Mocha, please stir. I was contemplating something to chew, a pastry or other fine indulgence. There really isn't a close shop that is on my way to the Barista, when I almost gave into the temptation of buying the pastries at my Barista. That is when it suddenly came to me--They are crap! I've given several of their pastries and other baked goods a fair turn, on more than one occasion and more than one shop in several states. Each and every experience--crap. They are beautiful and attracting and look to be delicious, but they aren't. Companies should just do what made them famous. Why would you venture out into the unknown field of what you don't know and not just make what you do that made you famous even better?
Grocery stores need to stick to selling groceries and not trying to cook them. The only exception to this is in the rotisserie chicken department. All other condiments or side dishes are just not edible, I can't see how people do that to themselves. I noticed at my grocery store recently that there are mashed potatoes and other side dishes in a tub, made by a company not known for anything but margarine--what a crock! Why would people assume that they know how to make macaroni and cheese, mash a potato or scallop one for that matter? They do butter for heaven sake--LET THEM DO BUTTER. It really doesn't' make sense to me at all.
Mildred will tell you that I have long held to this philosophy, "stick to what you know! Just because it is a brand you recognize doesn't mean they know diddly squat about that which didn't make them famous." I've been burned one too many times by Brands who want to use their identity to launch into fields they just shouldn't be going into. Again, there are some exceptions to this rule, but not many. Some brands don't get it wrong and do a great job of doing what they do well and with pride.
Every time I walk form the parking lot into Wal-Mart I nearly choke from the smell of their huge vats of hot grease cooking up another batch of processed popcorn chicken and spewing that horrendous funk into the atmosphere. It is just disgusting, I don't eat at my grocery store nor do I eat at my gas station. Gas stations are known for cheap sodas and gas--period. Stick with what you know. Would we be fooled into thinking that Goodyear has the ticket when it comes to tasty cookies? Or Lysol launching a line of beverage and flavored water? What about Valvoline cooking oil? See it just doesn't' make sense now does it? Would you buy thoothpaste made by Preparation H? Come on they know how to stuff things into a tube! Stick with what you know, please. I don't want to know what my favorite soda tastes like in a pound cake, thank you very much. I don't want to even try my favorite sausage factory prepared and packaged with other factory prepared and sealed breakfast goods--no thanks.
I'm thrilled with those who do what they do well, doing it even better. You should have seen me do my mental happy dance when I saw my first stick of Crisco! Oh, thank you Lord! For years I have lamented to Mildred that I want already firmly packed brown sugar, please. If the Crisco magicians can do it so can those who sell the California and Hawaiian brand of brown sugar! Low and behold viola--firmly packed brown sugar right there on the shelf for my purchasing pleasure. It is remarkably like the Crisco magicians packaging. If only the hot dog and hot dog bun folks could come together! I don't think I could take it, but I'd sure like to try. My favorite vegetable oil even has an easy measure cap, just like my favorite laundry detergent, one less measuring cup to dirty! Glory, Glory hallelujah! Now for cocoa powder that doesn't explode when you try to scoop more than a tablespoon out of the oddly shaped canister. At least it's not in that maddening man-hole canning method of yesteryear--Oh talk about frustration! I love the ketchup industry inventing a silicone valve that allows you to dispense ketchup cleanly. No more crunchy ketchup nuggets to deal with. I'm equally thrilled with the other bottled, "it should have been made to store upside down from the get go"revolutions. They are wonderful and easy--I'm still going to make my own Ranch dressing though, thanks for offering but I'll pass on that hydrogenated nightmare.
I'm looking forward to the day that the cereal box industry revolutionizes their packaging technology. What a fun day that will be when you don't have to be destroyed by the pulverized cellophane bags and demolished cardboard flaps. At least they aren't made of wax paper glued to the side of the box anymore, but that is slow progress. When I rule the world and those who do what they do great do something fantastic, it will become an industry standard a requirement for all to follow. That is if I decide to keep the brands I don't like around instead of destroying them for convenience sake.
There will be a special place in hell for the record industry executives, marketing directors, and factory employees who obey mindlessly ignoring the clarion call for revolution. They will all have socks on their hands that cannot be removed. Then there will be one billion CD's that must be opened before you can be elevated to the normal hell department and just live in misery. Just do what the gum folks did a long, long time ago and install an easy open tear strip. It's not that hard. and please don't stick a sticker on the CD case it just isn't necessary to have two layers of protection against opening, it really isn't.
So, fellow shopper be on the look out for brands that get cocky and assume that just because they do one thing well they can launch out and do another. Just think, "Are they known for this?" If the answer is, "no" then let it go. Let them do butter it's what they do.

2+3=Interesting

After three months of confinement we are slowly getting out with Teensy. Prior to Teensy's surprise arrival we were a busy go, go, go, go family. We went everywhere and didn't slow down for much. When Teensy came along we had to put the brakes on our gypsy ways and settle down. Now that the threats which kept us home (RSV virus specifically) aren't as much of a threat we can begin to journey out.
This weekend we went to Target, furniture stores, and to a couple of eating places, and church. Getting ready to go takes a truck load of effort. Usually Kendra takes care of getting all of Teensy's duke ready to roll. This entales packing the monitor she is still using for Apnea, getting her stroller out, car seat out, packing the diaper bag, securing the antibacterial wipes, and hand gel, aspirator, burp clothes, blankets, and Teensy. I take care of the boys. When we say the word, "go" Chubbers is at the laundry room door saying bye to every thing. He's into blowing kisses, loudly. He places that chubby hand on this mouth and says, "MMMMMMMAHHH" over and over. He is ready to roll. I'm trying to learn not to open the garage door right as I walk outside because Chubbers makes a mad dash for the freedom of the out of doors. He's off like lightening ready to discover and play outside. I usually run around hunkered down attempting to catch him and buckle him in the seat. This is every time we go anywhere. Titus usually has time to hop on his big wheel and drive around two or three times before we are all ready to go. Once we are loaded and ready to pull out there is this sigh of relief.
When we arrive it's time to undo what was just done. Stroller out and hooked up. Sterilize the shopping cart to prevent any contamination. Shopping carts are totally disgusting. Chubbers is into licking everything he comes in contact with. We are told it is because he's teething and he's searching out a thing to relieve the pain. We just think it's gross, him licking all over everything. Target and the furniture stores aren't really that bad, most are contained and we just keep moving. I have noticed that people who are in sales are more ready to assist you when you are with your entourage. Their thought must be, "There is no way in the world I would drag all of that crap out to just look around. They must be really serious." What they don't' know is, "yes, oh yes, we did go to all of this trouble to just get out." We are that desperate to roam our small world.
Restaurants are a different story. Three children out number two adults handily. It's just amazing how NOT worth eating out is when there are three children to deal with. We've tried it four times, two with help, two without, all four were just exhausting. Every item on the restaurant table is a hazard for a child. Everything that the restaurant hostess gives you is unacceptable to children, they would rather see how long a salt shaker can be held upside down before the salt is completely emptied of its' contents. Or what the bottom of the sugar holder looks like and how far all of the packets will scatter when turned upside down. Then there is the ketchup bottle and nice napkin wrapped present at each place setting. Each present has a weapon of mass destruction--knife! For boys straws, chop sticks, toothpicks, anything straight is an immediate weapon, and anything with an actual edge is a double blessing. One of the first things we do when we sit down is scamper to remove all of the hazards.
When I rule the world there will be special sections in all restaurants for parents with children. A special place where you food, any food, is delivered in 10 minutes from the time of order. What the restaurant industry doesn't know is that for every minute we wait for our food, that is equal to one hour of clean up after we leave. It looks like a Gallagher concert after we leave, food everywhere. Eating out with children is very expensive, too. Not only are you paying record prices for children's food and drink, but you have to double the tab and apply that as tip. It's not just double the tax, round up and move on down the road, my rule of thumb, but you are required to give a small pension for pain and suffering. We love the waitress who is away from her own children working, that kind of sympathy is universal and you don't get better service than that.
I do get a kick out of people who want to interact and deal with children. "What's your name?" "You have a lot of energy." "Oh look, a baby, how old? Oh how sweet." "Oh my, three children did you plan that or was it just an accident?" "Look at those lashes, and those eyes, what is he?" That last comment is specifically directed to Chubbers. He is an absolutely gorgeous mulatto. Very curly dark brown hair, brown almost black eyes, and creamy light brown skin. He's beautiful and has lashes that curl up and touch his eyebrows--for real. Just beautiful. Our kids usually just look at them like, "I'm sorry you are a very strange stranger and we don't' talk to strangers so please get out of the way and move on about your business." Titus has begun dealing with people in an effort to cut to the chase. "I'm four, the big broder, this is Levi he's one and that's my baby sister, Emma--she spits out through her nose and throws up." We are hoping that last description of changes somewhat. If we let Titus deal with people they usually say, "Oh, how nice...awkward grin slowly move on about your business."
I really have a pet peeve with people who assume they are welcome in your life. I don't' really need them to comment on the contents of my cart, or the number of children I have, or the way in which our boys like to sing--loudly as they shop. I don't care if your grandson who lives in Florida that you only see at Christmas is into the dinosaur that my son happens to like. Just because I shop at the same store or may be stuck in the same check out line does not mean that we'll be swapping recipes and sending cards. I'm totally ok with the, "your kids are really cute." or the smiles fired my way, but the intrusive, I know you must care what I have to say attitudes really get all over me.
One of the most fun times Kendra and I had in recent years was once at Wal-Mart. We were shopping and had discovered that there was a beach towel in our cart. It was obviously plucked from the shelves by Chubbers or Titus and thrown in the cart. We didn't want to retrace our steps and put it back, but noticed a cart that looked like the carts clerks use to put things back that shoppers didn't want. So we dropped the towel in the cart. Turns out it was the cart of another shopper. The dialogue that sprang from that towel was hilarious. "Did you put that towel in here?" "No, I didn't." "Where did it come from?" "I don't' know you must have put it in there, if you want a towel just get it." "I don't and didn't put it in there." "Well, it just didn't hop in the basket by itself." "I DIDN'T PUT THE TOWEL IN THE CART!" "Ok, we need a new one anyway, just get it." "It is nice." It was hard to stalk those people through the store and not draw attention to ourselves. We laughed and laughed that day, and still do. If you are ever bored at Wal-Mart try it, you won't be sorry.
I'm not sure it will get any easier, at least I'm telling myself that to keep my expectations as zero. That way if there is ever an time when it is better I'll be pleasantly surprised. That it could get worse is a constantly looming threat for me. It can, it will, I just hope it isn't today.

Put your eyes back in your head!

I'm obsessing and organizing a Spring cleaning for the Children's wing at my church on Saturday. I've been surprised at how many people called with their regrets when the tone of their voice showed no sign of remorse whatsoever hmmm? I'm sure there will be some who show up and there will others who do not show up. I learned a long time a go to get over those who don't participate and just be glad that the ones who do--do.
I had to go to the World's largest retailer to buy supplies. I wanted to get six buckets (found the cheapest ones in the car washing section by the automotive department) to make six complete sets of "cleaning" duke. Six bottles of Windex, Six bottles of Spic and Span, Six sponges, Six Magic Erase things, Six rolls of paper towels, and a pack for extra unplanned needs. I also had to buy beverages. You cannot have a church anything without food it's just not allowed. I also had to get some crayons and markers to replace the itty bitty bits of crayons and dried up markers our children attempt to use now. Bought all the crayons they had and all the markers they had. By the time I had all of that stuff my cart was full. As I was wandering through the housewares department to try and uncover more secret bucket stashes I noticed something--I was being watched. I was the object of gawkers!
People all over the store were staring at my cart in sheer amazement. What on earth are all of those bottles of Windex and spic and span for? Sodas...towels...butt-load of crayons...butt-load of markers...good lord what is all of that stuff. When they were caught gawking at my stash I would get this quick grin of, "oh hello, I...uh...I...was...uh...I...just...staring at your cart as if it were strange that you were actually here to buy something." It was like that all over the place. the women would stare it all down and calculate whether or not there was a store sale going on or whether or not there was going to be a run on the supplies I was stocking up on--what with all this hub bub about the new time change fiasco. Should they scamper to the departments I had just been too and stock up as well?... The men would not turn their head, only their eyes. Men try to be the most stealth about it. After about 8:00 pm all of the men shopping at Wallyworld wear those horrible plastic slip-on sandals. I would call them shower shoes for lack of a better term. No comfort whatsoever and absolutely no support. There they are walking around Wallyworld behind their dear wife pushing their goods and thanking God they would not have to load what I was carrying in their car. I found an amazing deal on these really nice drawer organizers in the housewares area. $5 for these $10 fabric lined three-section drawer organizers. Much better for the pen, pencil, and other duke organization that the plastic cups we use now.
My cart completely full and almost a disaster I decided I had done enough damage and should just go checkout. When I rule the world: If you have a store with 57 lanes--every stinking lane had better be open! If you don't plan on opening all 57 lanes then don't have them! I think out of the 57 lanes there were four open. That meant huge lines at every one. I found one gal who was on top of her game and checking out fast. She was young and clearly had her groove. She was not hitting any scanning snags and could actually have a conversation with people and not stop scanning your duke. I hate when check out people start trying to be your friend and forget to check you out. I'm not there to be your friend I'm there to just buy my duke and go home.
I ask the check out gal if she could ring up tax-exempt. "No sir, we don't do that unless you have a cared...Do you have a card?" "No, I don't." "So...do you want to put this all back or what?" Stunned to silence. I was going to let $24 stand in my way of an hour and half of shopping at Wallyworld getting gawkraped by every other shopper in the store? "Uh--no I'll take it and just eat the Tax." "OK....so are you going to do some cleaning?" She was hitting every check out person pet peeve I have. I cannot stand when a check out person tries to solve the mystery of why you are buying what you are buying. It just makes me cringe almost as much as when a person pulls out in front of you when you are the only car on the road and stops 10 feet down to make a turn. FIRE UP THE ROCKET LAUNCHER! "No, I'm organizing a spring cleaning day at my church." "Oh dat's nice, you a preacher of something." "yes..." "What's the church where you preach at?" I told her and quickly started loading up my duke. I didn't want to give her any more opportunities to engage.
She was about through counting the crayon boxes when an old hag and her two fat--we are living at home til we get on our feet--grown children showed up. They smelled of stale smoke, had clearly blown all of their pay checks at the Indian casino and were suddenly miffed at my large purchase. My Robba smoked every day of her life and never smelled of stale smoke! It can be done! The yellow-haired granny just kept looking at my stuff and rolling her eyes toward me with a huff. I just looked at her and smiled. If I had been given the gift of laser vision there would have been a clean-up on aisle 47--ZAP. You know if you don't want to wait to buy your cheap no skid work shoes and pack of cig's then go to a lane that isn't mine. Don't' huff at me like I forced you to stand behind me. You have free will. You chose to wear that stuffed flannel shirt as a jacket and didn't take the time to get out of your grass stained mowing shoes to come to Wallyworld. You can walk to another lane and get checked out faster so you can go home and fight over who gets to eat the last pork chop. I purposely engaged the checker out gal just to add seconds to my time in line. It was small victory. If I couldn't use laser vision to zap then that was the next best thing.
Why is it that you can load your cart and have everything fit, but check it out and you can't get everything to fit? I just don't get that at all. I could probably get a government grant to study that if I had the where with all to do it. It's always amazed me.
I am a confessed gawker, not at the contents of the cart but at the pushers of the carts. I love the list folks who go up and down ever aisle and have their coupon book in hand. I love the man who has made his second trip of a lifetime to Wallyworld to get things he has not clue about. Salsa...DEAR GOD there is an entire aisle dedicated to Salsa! What will I do? Just love that. The aimless wandering lost man--priceless. My hands down favorite is the man who is not comfortable buying feminine hygiene products. I will trail his butt until he checks out just to enjoy the show. No eye contact what so ever. The flippant toss onto the belt. Hurried stance. Quick drug glances to make sure that no one they know is there. And this desire to tell the check out person, "these aren't for me...they are for my wife...she needs them and I said I would go get some...she...I...nice shirt. Is that a wolf howling at the moon?" Oh how I love it. I just love it. I would love so much for the check out gal to announce over the intercom a price check and have all of the TV's in the place show a live feed from that check out lane--the man, the box of tampons, and the sheer terror of being noticed on his face. LOVE IT! I could watch that all day. I also love watching children retrieve toys they know their parents will not let them have but still try to get them to say yes. Love that exchange too.
It's a people watchers dream to go to wallyworld. No greater show on earth!