December 13, 2011

• {on my knees}
  
  I don’t know what possessed me to think going to Wal-Mart on a Saturday afternoon two weeks before Christmas was a good idea.
  
  Shayne was out of town. Kate at a party for a friend. and the little girls and I were running errands while we waited on Ben at hockey..
  
  I should have known by the packed parking lot it was going to be a nut house.
  I guess I assumed with it being a big store, folks would spread out!
  
  I felt bad to hurry past the firemen asking for donations outside the door…
  but with baby on one hip and holding Emma’s hand on the other, there was no easy way of accessing my wallet buried deep within my huge diaper bag/ purse, unless I just sat right down in the middle of the sidewalk and dug it out!

  So I pretended to talk to Emma to avoid that eye contact of permeating guilt for not contributing.
  
  I really do love my firemen. and policemen. and all the other public service workers that serve us every day. just not enough to stop on a freezing cold afternoon with two little girls in tow to dig out a few bucks. sorry guys.

  I have remembered a time or two to get money out before I left my car, that way it was ready in hand. But on this particular day, uh-uh… I wasn’t quite that organized
  
  Once inside I headed for the carts and found there were only three left, pushed as far back to the end as they could possibly go and apparently inseparable, from the poor 20 something year old battling to get one loose.
  
  Her face was a mixture of exasperation and anger, stopping now and then to look embarrassingly around at who was watching.

  I immediately felt sorry for her and jumped in to help. After all, this was one of my few areas of expertise – unlocking carts! I mastered it a few years back at another Wal-Mart when a kind old greeter man showed me the trick to getting them unstuck. 
  
  You see, the key is in lifting up the front “gate” part of the cart.. the part that lifts to allow the carts to connect. When these get jammed, no amount of yanking and pulling will get it loosened. You just have to reach in, lift up that front gate, then pull back! I really think they need someone officially doing that. Next to the greeter guy stands the cart loosening person!
  
  Anyways. once her cart was free she was off and gone. Leaving me there with baby, emma, and my purse falling halfway down my arm, like, “thanks for returning the favor there, Barbie!” :/ So I began the one handed attempt of getting my cart free from the others.
  
  Finally, I had to set Reese down. Instructing Emma to hold her hand tight. But just as I pulled the cart loose, Reese broke from Emma and darted under the bars around the cart corral and headed.. well, she didn’t care where, just as long as she was free from big sis and independent. Teetering back and forth on her still sometimes unsteady legs, dwarfed by everyone around her.
  
  I threw my purse in the cart to “claim” it. Maybe not the smartest thing. Then straddled my way out between the bars and grabbed Reese, who was just disappearing into the assortment of women’s sweaters hanging to the ground from the crammed too close together racks…
  
  With her squirming in protest I went back through the bars. Belted her quickly in, to which now her protest turned to loud tearful sobs, grabbed Emma’s hand, and backed out of the cart area where 4 people stood waiting for the 2 lone carts of, I think, the entire store! I shot a supporting glance of, “I hope you win” to another mom with little kids in line for the carts, then began the careful maneuvering around the displays of boxed perfumes and candy canes, wondering why every single Wal-Mart in the world seems to own carts that squeak and have some kind of wonky front wheel thing going on. what’s with that?
  
  We headed straight back for the Christmas light aisle… what I was there for. And so much for my theory that it was a big store and people would be spread out! Apparently every person in Barrie needed Christmas lights that day and had all decided to come in at the exact same time, now congregated together on that particular aisle!
  
  I “excuse me. pardon me. can i just squeeze right by ya?” my way down through to get to the tiny spot of open space left. Looking up and down each shelf carefully for the boxes of white lights, which obviously aren’t as popular as the dozens of muti-colored ones. Once located I opened them to see what kind of white it happened to be.. learning from my previous purchase a few days earlier, that apparently now there are “cool white” and “warm white” lights available. who knew?

  For the record cool white looks almost blue. I prefer warm.
  
  Reese was still whining and fighting with her seat belt. I knew she was overly tired from missing her morning nap and I was glad I had thought to throw her pacifier in my purse. Usually it’s only for bedtime, but being the experienced mom I am {aka times of desperation} I’ve learned that when we’re going to be gone for most of the day – have the pacifier handy!
  
  Once the pacy was in her mouth she quieted down.
  
  I finally found the lights I needed and started the process of working my way back through the wall to wall people to get out. At the end of the aisle two things happened almost simultaneously – Emma stood up from where she was sitting in the back of the cart and announced she had to pee, and Reese let out the hugest sneeze that sent snot flying down to her upper lip… her pacifier projectiled straight forward, rickashaying off my chest, then bouncing on the floor, rolling on it’s side between and around multiple shoes as if by a remote control. and finally. hooking a sharp right and disappearing beneath the shelves.

  I stood for a minute and looked back and forth between Reese and Emma. Then, first things first..  I made Emma sit down and told her to hold it. then dug out a wadded up napkin in my purse from somewhere or another and wiped Reese’s nose. She looked up at me with a questioning, “uh?” as she held her hand in the direction her pacy had rolled.

  “I know, baby. I know..” I said. “I’ll try to find it.”

  “I fink it’s under dat bwack man’s foot,” Emma exclaimed a little too loudly as she pointed towards the man a few feet away. Followed by an equally loud, “I fink my pee is tuming out!”

  To which I pushed her finger down and whispered, “don’t point dear. and … and don’t hold your potty area like that, please.”  
  
  I stood a bit longer wondering what was best to do.
  My first instinct was to leave the pacifier.

  But you have to understand… this isn’t just any normal pacy.
  it’s the one we got on our very first night in the hospital! 
  Reese and it have history together!
  and believe me, if there was ever a pacifier with a story, this one is it.
  I don’t even want to tell you the places we’ve found that thing, looked for that thing…
  try the largest mall in Toronto, carefully and methodically retracing our steps around that place!
  but we found it.
   
  We’ve tried other pacifiers. Prettier pacifiers. But she wants nothing to do with them.
  We even bought the exact same one, in pink. But, no. it had to be green!
  
  So call me crazy, but there’s some sentimental value wrapped in that little green thing.
  Not to mention, I kinda like my sleep and wasn’t feeling in the mood right at that moment to take on the whole “you’re a big girl now. bye bye pacy” fight.
  
  Slowly I backed down the aisle to where I thought I had seen it go under… stopping and bending, hoping to see it right on the edge. No such luck! I raced through different scenarios in my mind of how I was going to find out where exactly this pacifier had went to.. but upon the next, “I fink my pee is tuming out,” from Emma I knew there wasn’t going to be any graceful, or less obvious way of doing this.

  I let out a sigh. Shrugged slightly. and turned to the lady behind me, “Excuse me please,” I said as I stepped back and went down on my hands and knees, pressing my cheek nearly against the floor to be able to see completely underneath the shelves.

  there. almost perfectly in the middle lay the pacy. 

  I climbed back up. got the thinnest box of Christmas lights I could find, then down again on all fours. Squinting one eye for aim, I shot the box underneath with careful precision, sending the pacifier flying out the other side.

  You know how when you’ve done something dorky and know people are watching, there’s that split second you get that sudden urge to just take it even further and really freak them out? I had that as I contemplated raising my hands and saying before I stood up…

  “and help me dear Jesus in finding all the very best bargains today!!”

  but I refrained. and climbed up brushing off my hands and pushing my hair behind my shoulders.

  I thought of giving an explanation to those around. Especially the scared looking grandma lady behind me, but instead, just smiled and walked away to go fetch the pacy on the other side.

  it wasn’t the first time I’ve been on my knees for one of my kids..
  and I’m sure it won’t be the last!    
  
  I think the real moral of the story is stick to fingers, not pacy’s. They’re less humiliating.
  and the second would probably be something about those Wal-Mart carts!
  Like maybe it’s time for the corporation to invest in some new ones, world wide??
  just sayin~

  ****

  
  
  
  ben’s team won the championship

  
  a fun treat, almost too cute to eat. almost!

  
  
  she says the glasses help with her school.

  

  

  
  those “warm” white lights.
  
  
  and that infamous mr.green pacy!

  happy 11th day before Christmas!!!
  

  ·´¸.·¨) ¸.·¨)
  (¸.·´ (¸.·´ (¸.·¨¯`♥ amber

  • 2:40 pm
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