On Venturing Out

Today everyone woke up happy. The boys have been sleeping well this week (woohoo!) and we all felt rested and pretty un-grumpy. After lounging around for a few hours and toying with the idea of a chick-fil-a/target combo excursion, I decided we just needed to go for it.

Do you know how long it takes to get 2 little rambunctious boys dressed, shod, and coated? Too long. It's always, always a butt load of work getting us out of the house.

But we made it.

 We crammed into the tiny white car (van is having repairs- ugh) and set off. Made it down the driveway and then Graham noticed he'd forgotten his baseball. This time I decided that, no, I wasn't going to go back into the house to look for a baseball whose location was unknown. This denial of said baseball led to unpleasant behavior. Thankfully, said behavior improved and we made our merry way along.

Our community is about 25-35 minutes away from 3 separate Targets and Chick-Fil-A's. Most of the time it doesn't bug me. If Target is far, I spend less money. On a day like today, it's annoying. I decided on the town we were going to and headed in that direction. On the way, I was asked to tell many a story. Graham loves stories and, while it makes my brain numb to try and rack up fresh stories all the time, it's not the worst way to travel, I guess. I dunno. I'd much rather travel in silence or listen to classical music. Silence is golden. Silence isn't in the picture right now. It's ok.

We get to Chick-Fil-A. The kids want to play first. No, we're going to eat first. There's no line, so we walk right up. I fumble through my order. I use my calendar card for the freebie of the month, a disappointing coffee (I'm here for chicken, CFA. Not coffee.) While I order, Graham rolls up a baby highchair and starts climbing it so he can feel important and tall. I hiss at him to get down. My tray is ready. I need both arms to grab my kids and usher them to a booth and I give the cashier a look. He gets it; "Oh, do you need me to carry your tray for you, ma'am?" Yes. Yes, I do need you to do that.

Graham positively inhales fries and Patrick decides eating is unnecessary and he just wants to go play. I think I ate a sandwich. I don't remember. 2 minutes later, the boys are in the play area, shoes off.

I distinctly remember Graham being a little 2-year old and not being able climb up the CFA play steps. Another little boy helped him, and I hoped that someday Graham would be the big kid helping the little kids. Today, I felt that happened. He was kind and patient and appropriate and made me think 'he's going to turn out ok.' Patrick on the other hand, had to spend a lot of time sitting next to me in time out for bullying. My youngest is generally sweet of nature but all bets were off and he was the mean kid. I guess ya win some, ya lose some.

Can I just go out and say, maybe I'm a helicopter mom (let's just say it like it is, my kids need a lot of supervision), but I was a little annoyed to be the only adult in the play area. I just *love* watching other people's crazy kids.

Patrick pooped his diaper (kid needs to be potty trained, pronto) and ever the ill-prepared mother, I had no diaper.  I decided it was time to leave.

We made our way to the car, got buckled in. Two men are standing next to our car smoking, the smell drifting into the car, Graham points out (loudly) that "THEY ARE SMOKING!" I back out quickly and move on.

I debated whether we should head home or go to Target. I decided on Target because we drove 25 minutes to get to this town. I knew I was treading on dangerous territory, as we were nearing naptime. I actually said out loud, "this is a dumb idea." But Target was only a mile away and I couldn't waste this trip. We made a pit stop in the bathroom and nobody touched a toilet seat or crawled under the stalls to peek at other people (this happened once at CFA). Then back into store we went. I blindly walked past the clothes section; no point in browsing because I have no money, don't need clothes, and also it is impossible to browse with children. Grabbed some diapers and wipes for poor poopy Patrick. I will admit walking past the tiny baby stuff does make my heart warm. I miss shopping for a newborn. Good thing that someone in my family is always pregnant these days, I can simply love on their babies for now.

Graham was patient and we then walked to the sports section, like we do every time. He checked out baseballs and picked one "to carry around the store." I reminded him we were not buying it. I eyed up the home goods section with a wistful eye. All the pretty lamps and candles and silvery Christmas decorations. And moving on- just have to get some lotion and we are home free.

We make it to the personal care section. I struggle to find the brand I want. The kids are starting to lose it. Aha- there it is! Patrick wants out of the cart. He's getting louder. I know we are 4 aisles away from check out. I let him out and try herding them in the right direction. They both pick up nail polish and PRETEND TO SMOKE. Yes, they put nailpolishes in their mouths and pretend to smoke. I break up the party and pick up a screeching Patrick and grit my teeth. We are so close to being out of here. We make it to checkout and Graham sadly gives the young and energetic looking cashier his ball as I inform her not to ring it up.  We pay and I debate whether to change Patrick in the bathroom or in the car. I decide on car because I don't think we will survive another minute in the store. We are fully into naptime territory and emotions are running high.

I change Patrick on the front seat, a cold wind on his bare hiney. He struggles and makes a mess. Soon he's clean and they are buckled and I'm making up a fresh set of stories for the 25 minute drive home.

I'm getting braver on these outings. It is hard. I feel both frazzled and like a rock star. I used to be so self-conscious when we went out; now I just say perfectly loudly to my children, "You are being disrespectful, cut it out." It feels good to be more confident. And today was good.  Nobody actually had a melt down. We have full(ish) bellies. I got what I needed at the store. And we practiced obeying mama, playing with other kids, not getting the ball at the store.None of us were perfect; Patrick pulled hair, Graham whined, I lost my patience. But we got through it and these days are so full of life and being tired and training little hearts and making wise decisions. I want to remember it all; the hard and the sweet.

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