I Almost Saved Enough to Buy a Music Track
It’s my first full day back in town. One-third of my children are sick. Dirty laundry is piled in still-unpacked suitcases. The microbial colonies in the bathroom gained strength in our absence.
With all of this work and more vying for my attention, I carved out a few minutes to run to the grocery store yesterday. I had a coupon for $.80 off a half-gallon of milk that expired at midnight. Like toothpaste hiding in the last recesses of the tube, those coupons are too valuable to waste, so we piled everyone into the car for a quick trip.
As the kids age,* I find it harder and harder to leave the house for errands. I used to be able to strap the boys into infant carriers and know exactly where they were while I chased Abbie to get her ready to leave. When they graduated to car seats, I could leave them on the floor in the kitchen while I scolded Abbie for pulling her shoes off again. Now I have to prepare everyone to leave, and slowly herd them to the door simultaneously, frequently breaking progress when one separates from the pack. It’s two steps forward, one step back, except that step back is more of a lunge to catch Abbie as she runs after a kitty. Considering that I can spend more time preparing the kids for the trip than I do on the actual trip, it’s tempting to stay home and enjoy the kids, or at least enjoy the newspaper while the kids play with objects that probably aren’t choking hazards. We’d run out of milk if I never left the house, though, plus car rides make a nice break in the day. When it comes to competent parenting while using minimal brain activity, nothing short of naptime can beat a car ride.
I’m working on a new trick to speed the process of leaving the house. I used to carry the kids out the front door and into the car individually, allowing one child outside at a time to minimize the risk of runaways. Now I just open the front door and let them go. Since everyone congregates by the door as soon as I put their coats on anyway, it’s easier than fighting to keep them inside the house. I then grab the front-runner and strap him in while the other two make their way from the door. Ideally, they’ll walk directly to the car as the boys now have the mental capacity to follow such directions. Even in the worst case when they bolt down the sidewalk, I save time by racing to strap in each child before a sibling wanders away.
Getting the children into the car is always eventful. Yesterday’s journey to the grocery store was not eventful. I only needed milk, along with anything else I could find a reason to buy so I wasn’t making a trip to the store solely for eight sippy cup’s worth of milk.
Do we need more graham crackers? No. Can I find space for another box? Yes.
The twins attracted attention as usual. One of the managers remarked at the “double trouble.” I smiled and continued trying to keep Abbie away from the balloons in the floral department. You’d think I’d have a good response to him since he says “double trouble” every time he sees us.
At checkout, the cashier saw the boys and told me one of their managers just had twin girlss. Silly comments I brush aside, but I’ll listen to genuine twin stories. Her twins were a week old and about 2.5 pounds. I did the math and realized those twins must have been about the same age as my boys. I told her the girls would be in the hospital for a couple more weeks, but would be home and healthy soon. She nodded and smiled, for if I could correctly guess that they were in the hospital, surely I was right about their health.
I grabbed two grocery sacks worth of excuses to leave the house, and returned to the car. I needed to return home since I now had groceries to put away on top of the laundry to sort and a bathroom to clean.
* Or possibly as I age; I haven’t figured out which.
With all of this work and more vying for my attention, I carved out a few minutes to run to the grocery store yesterday. I had a coupon for $.80 off a half-gallon of milk that expired at midnight. Like toothpaste hiding in the last recesses of the tube, those coupons are too valuable to waste, so we piled everyone into the car for a quick trip.
As the kids age,* I find it harder and harder to leave the house for errands. I used to be able to strap the boys into infant carriers and know exactly where they were while I chased Abbie to get her ready to leave. When they graduated to car seats, I could leave them on the floor in the kitchen while I scolded Abbie for pulling her shoes off again. Now I have to prepare everyone to leave, and slowly herd them to the door simultaneously, frequently breaking progress when one separates from the pack. It’s two steps forward, one step back, except that step back is more of a lunge to catch Abbie as she runs after a kitty. Considering that I can spend more time preparing the kids for the trip than I do on the actual trip, it’s tempting to stay home and enjoy the kids, or at least enjoy the newspaper while the kids play with objects that probably aren’t choking hazards. We’d run out of milk if I never left the house, though, plus car rides make a nice break in the day. When it comes to competent parenting while using minimal brain activity, nothing short of naptime can beat a car ride.
I’m working on a new trick to speed the process of leaving the house. I used to carry the kids out the front door and into the car individually, allowing one child outside at a time to minimize the risk of runaways. Now I just open the front door and let them go. Since everyone congregates by the door as soon as I put their coats on anyway, it’s easier than fighting to keep them inside the house. I then grab the front-runner and strap him in while the other two make their way from the door. Ideally, they’ll walk directly to the car as the boys now have the mental capacity to follow such directions. Even in the worst case when they bolt down the sidewalk, I save time by racing to strap in each child before a sibling wanders away.
Getting the children into the car is always eventful. Yesterday’s journey to the grocery store was not eventful. I only needed milk, along with anything else I could find a reason to buy so I wasn’t making a trip to the store solely for eight sippy cup’s worth of milk.
Do we need more graham crackers? No. Can I find space for another box? Yes.
The twins attracted attention as usual. One of the managers remarked at the “double trouble.” I smiled and continued trying to keep Abbie away from the balloons in the floral department. You’d think I’d have a good response to him since he says “double trouble” every time he sees us.
At checkout, the cashier saw the boys and told me one of their managers just had twin girlss. Silly comments I brush aside, but I’ll listen to genuine twin stories. Her twins were a week old and about 2.5 pounds. I did the math and realized those twins must have been about the same age as my boys. I told her the girls would be in the hospital for a couple more weeks, but would be home and healthy soon. She nodded and smiled, for if I could correctly guess that they were in the hospital, surely I was right about their health.
I grabbed two grocery sacks worth of excuses to leave the house, and returned to the car. I needed to return home since I now had groceries to put away on top of the laundry to sort and a bathroom to clean.
* Or possibly as I age; I haven’t figured out which.
posted by Matt at
11:15 PM
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