Adventures in Grocery Shopping

Grocery shopping with the kids last weekend, we turned a corner to find a group of three very large, very loud women talking and laughing with each other.

As we passed them, Sammy said loudly, "They really bigger, Mommy!" Luckily for me, the women were talking too loudly to hear, so I didn't have to turn beet red and fumble for an apology.

And so it begins. Now I need to figure out how to explain, at a 2 1/2-year-old level, how words can hurt.

Let's factor this math equation: 1 energetic toddler + no nap x 1 energetic toddler + too short of a nap = trouble².

On Sunday, we had a get-together with my husband's family. There's a little boy on that side of the family who's almost exactly Sammy's age. Only 2 1/2 weeks younger, to be exact. I'm going to call him William, to protect the not-so-innocent.

This get-together was at 1:00 p.m. Anyone with a toddler on a one-nap schedule may now gasp in horror. This is naptime in the toddler world.

William arrived, having taken a too-short nap. We tried to convince Sammy to take an early nap, but had no success, so he was already starting to fade by the time we arrived.

Now, my sister-in-law had been so kind and thoughtful as to put out a bowl of Cheerios for all of the young'uns to snack on. About 5:00, things were starting to go downhill, so I should have seen this coming, but I didn't. Sammy walked up to the bowl of Cheerios, put both hands in and grabbed handfuls of cereal, which he then threw onto the carpet. While I was reprimanding him, William's father made the comment, "I'm just so glad it wasn't my kid this time." As if on cue, William walked up, picked up the bowl of Cheerios, and dumped it in its entirety on the carpet.

And to think - pretty soon, I'm going to have two toddlers running around, causing trouble.

In the beginning

Okay, so this is my third attempt at keeping a blog. I never can quite seem to stick with it, so hopefully the third time's a charm!

I took the bus to work for the first four years I worked downtown, but when I was 8 months pregnant with Sammy, I started driving. You'd think other bus riders would take pity on a hugely pregnant woman and offer her a seat, wouldn't you? Not so much. I am not one to ask for special treatment, but taking a 45-minute bus ride standing up, while going down the freeway, is nothing short of dangerous when you can no longer even remember that you ever had a center of balance. And trust me - there was no mistaking the fact that I was pregnant. I have a short torso, so there is nowhere for my babies to go but out. I think the only question was exactly how many babies were in there.

Then, after Sammy was born, I kept driving because of work & daycare schedules, blah blah blah. Now we have a new arrangement, with just enough of a shift in my hours that there's now a mid-day bus that will take me home again. So I decided to go back to busing. Besides the positive impact on the environment, I am thrilled that I will no longer be spending so much money on gas, plus I have an extra hour and a half in my day to read!

This week, I started taking the bus again. Since the 35W bridge collapse, my bus has taken a detour, so this was the first time I was riding the new route. The morning commute was fine. Fast forward to the afternoon commute. I was standing at what I thought was the bus stop, and I looked down at my watch to see what time it is. Hmm, I thought, I could have sworn the bus was supposed to be here 2 minutes ago. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the bus line. After two minutes of maneuvering my way through the automated system, I found out the bus was supposed to be coming RIGHT NOW, BUT 2 BLOCKS AWAY FROM WHERE I WAS CURRENTLY STANDING. Uh-oh. I run down the icy sidewalk and get to the intersection just as the bus is going through. Keep in mind, there is not another bus for 2 hours, and it would take me about 2 days to walk home from where I am. So I run the next block, in my high heels, with my breastpump, my briefcase, and my purse merrily swinging away beside me. Thank goodness the bus drive saw me running for the bus, and he stopped mid-block to let me on. I was so thankful - however, we have had a LOT of snow lately, and the snowback separating the bus and me was about 2 feet high. Remember that I'm wearing high heels? OK, good. So I get halfway through the snowbank and lose one of my shoes. I turn around, balancing on one leg like a flustered flamingo, grab my shoe out of the snowbank, and board the bus with one shoe in my hand. I didn't look up to take count of how many of the passengers were laughing at me.

So that was my first day riding the bus. Thankfully yesterday was better.