Let’s start at the very beginning.
Brian took Friday off and I worked Thursday instead so we could all go shopping. And by “all” I mean all 3 of us...or technically all 4 of us.
I’ve been excited about this shopping trip for MONTHS because this was my chance to buy THINGS FOR THE BABY! Yay hooray I was going to actually purchase something more than disposable butt coverings and a butt-covering-tote-bag. Calling them butt-coverings is more fun than saying “diapers.” Try it some time.
Also, my daughter has feet that grow and it was either have her go barefoot from here on out and risk inspection by Child Protective Services or go shopping. And silly silly me, I really thought the “shoes” on the bottom of my shopping spreadsheet (I am OCD and a list would not suffice) were a quick easy thing we’d pick up while in THE BIG CITY.
I need to take a minute to take a deep breath as I prepare to tell you about our day of shopping.
It all started in the shower. We had some minor repair work happening in our upstairs bathroom so I have been using the basement shower all week. Our basement shower is approximately the size of a coffin standing on end. Which means preggo lady barely fits. And also means preggo lady had a heck of a time shaving her legs. Suffice it to say I sliced a big old chunk out of my ankle. And since I’m both inflexible and clumsy, Brian had to apply no less than 5 bandaids to my lower appendage where it appeared I had attempted to sever my foot. Super great start!
Then Reagan tripped as she was running down the hallway and smacked her head against the door. It sounded painful. She cried a lot. My shirt had lots of little tear marks on it for the next half hour.
We got in the car and made it nearly all the way to our destination when we realized we forgot our stash of gift cards at home. Bum. Er.
Brian had prepared water bottles and mugs of juice and whatnot for my hydration needs, but in the bandaid and doorway vs. head confusion we left them all at home.
We tried to put it all behind us and made our first stop - Target - and began our hunt for THINGS FOR THE BABY. And shoes for Reagan. We bought a few THINGS FOR THE BABY and noted they were sold out of Reagan’s size in their on-sale-toddler-shoes. Hmmmm...oh well, on to the household cleaner aisle. For some reason, I thought handing Reagan a can of Orange Pledge was a good idea. It was not. We heard the thing start spraying and we noted that our dear daughter indeed had the ability to activate a can of Orange Pledge. Fortunately, she covered the nozel with her other hand so the cleanup was manageable. We learned a valuable lesson. And smelled funnny the rest of the day.
While Target is blissfully quiet in the morning on a Friday, we decided to join the rat race at all the many other stores we planned to raid. We made our way to Babies R Us and made some more purchases of THINGS FOR THE BABY. Specifically, the much anticipated and sought after “homecoming outfits!” Now, we do not know what we are having. I mean, we know we’re having a baby...but what flavor of baby we are not yet sure. So we have to buy one of each. I should have seen this coming, but I was a little horrified when the clerk saw our one boy outfit and one girl outfit and remarked with glee, “You must be having twins!” Hmmm...no. And thank you for adding to my I-am-enormous complex.
After BRU we visited our 2nd Target of the day...also sold out of shoes for Reagan. After that, things get a little fuzzy. I was hungry and Reagan was tired and we were not nearly done, etc., but by the end of the day we had visited 4 Targets and 2 Walmarts and 1 Babies R Us.
For some reason, I thought this would be a good day to go to the Cheesecake Factory - as a special little treat for our family and also as a quasi-date for Brian and I. We had to park at least a mile away from the restaurant. It was Reagan’s naptime (or well past). And I was cranky. We had to wait for 15 minutes or so and then got a table and ordered two pieces of cheesecake. I learned a few more lessons. One of which is that sometimes, for $15, I can make a better cheesecake at home and have the whole thing to myself. And also, Reagan does not like sit down restaurants! Especially not at naptime! She did okay, but we ate that cheesecake in record time - thereby negating the joy of savoring each tasty bite.
We made a few more stops and praise be we found some shoes for Reagan at what must have been the 35th Target in our journey.
Somehow, I had the good sense to wear my Nikes and I neither swelled up nor had aching feet throughout the whole day. Which is about all the good I can say about my “condition” as we traveled home. I’m just not emotionally equipped to go shopping any more. I was stressed and the whole outting was not the fun family experience I really wanted it to be. I’m sure I had my expectations way too high. But I cried with my sleep-deprived daughter most of the way home because this was supposed to be a fun memory and now it was just one I wanted to forget. It wasn’t that Reagan was so poorly behaved or that I didn’t get what we needed. It was more that I was completely stressed out over every little thing and nothing went as planned.
Also, I didn’t get to take a single picture. That sounds so incredibly stupid. But I thought I’d go and take a few pictures of picking out the outfits, trying out a double jogging stroller and Reagan with chocolate cheesecake all over her face. Because for this baby there are no showers or nursery painting days or stroller assembly projects to capture on film. Really, this was about it as far as baby preparations go. And honestly, I don’t know what I am going to put in this kid’s scrapbook on the “Preparing for Your Arrival” page other than a picture of me bawling my head off. This sounds so petty and stupid, I am sure. But I am still stinging a bit from the disappointment of a long and frustrating day.
In the end, we got what we needed, I will not be turned in to the Department of Human Services for a shoeless child, and Reagan will never again be forced to skip a nap because Mommy wants to go shopping. I should just be happy with that. And to some extent, I am. But letting go of that idyllic dream of an outting I had is still a little difficult.
And even after typing this huge post, I’m not feeling a whole lot better about it.