yes, another education and stimulation-filled outing occurred yesterday, to our favorite place to waste money: target. that’s why i’ll make such a good home school parent. i’m so creative with my activities for my children. when you think about it, there are a lot of things to learn at target. such as, we can’t have that. why not? ’cause we po ass. you want that toy? it’s good to acknowledge that want. but you don’t need that toy. “are you sad, mama? that they don’t have tea?” ruth asks me after i searched for a few minutes to see if target has ginger tea, which i can’t seem to find anywhere. “no,” i said, “it doesn’t matter that much.” life is full of disappointment. better to accept it and move on.
we were mostly there to buy ruth a new pair of tights, a pair of sandals for summer, and some big kid undees, which she assured me that she would wear as long as she could pick them out herself. being the fool i am, i trusted her. never trust a three year old. they don’t have the mental capacity for any kind of follow-through. that, and labor snacks, which everyone in the house is forbidden to eat and which greg and ruth have already ravaged. “don’t eat that! it’s for labor!” i yelled at greg this morning as he tried to sneakily throw away a granola bar wrapper from his bedroom. “i’m just testing the quality,” he said back with a smirk. “you won’t be smirking when you have nothing to eat in the hospital,” i said back in a huge-disgruntled-pregnant-lady sort of way. (one of my books has advised me to try to “let go” with my feelings as much as possible in these last few weeks of pregnancy to prepare myself for the kind of release necessary to get through labor and i’m following that advise, embracing my crazy pregnancy hormones). in any case, i picked out the snacks as ruth yelled from the cart, “i need rainbow goldfish!!” then, we moved on to ruth’s cousin’s birthday gift. “i wanna get james some finger paint,” i said to ruth, “i want finger paint.” “but it’s not your birthday, ruth. it’s james’. we are here to pick out something for james.” another life lesson: selflessness.
the last stop, i was half-dreading and half-curious about: ruth’s sandals. we have such a problem getting her to wear any shoes we pick out, i figured if she picks them out herself, she’ll be bound to wear them. right? good logic. we entered the kids shoe aisle and i freed her from the cart. she immediately went for some white dressy ones with a big honking flower on the top. i tried to sway her in a different direction, picking up the boys sandals which were much more sensible, earth-toned and very hiker-esque, with a sturdy looking top part and arch support. “no,” she said, “i have to look like a princess.” “oh,” i replied, letting that one sink in. where the crap did that come from, i thought to myself. “are you sure you want the ones with the toe separator? isn’t that uncomfortable? what about these that also have flowers but no toe-separator?” in the end, she held fast to her original decision, so i figure, at least she will be committed to these shoes. plus, i have seen little girls out and about in ones a lot less comfortable-looking than these, so….chalk it up to self-expression? never mind that her self-expression is that of “princess”. again, baffled. after that, we picked out some new tights. ruth was very upset to see that the tights selection did not include any sparkly variety and we settled for pink, but just barely. then, she picked out big kid undees. not dora. not hello kitty. barbie. the pinkest, girliest ones they had. so be it.
“alright, tennis balls! now we can play tennis, ruth!” greg said after going through our bags once we got home. “those are for my back massage during labor,” i retorted, “for counter-pressure.” “oh,” said greg, crest-fallen. “see my new princess cup?” ruth asked as she held up the pink plastic cup that she picked out for herself from the dollar bin. “nice,” said greg.
notes from the hood (parenthood) 