Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Toddling in wal-mart..

Well since my first blog was explaining my need to blog, and so forth, I am going to go ahead and address one of the pains in my ass lately. No, I am not talking about J knocking at the backdoor. Anyone who knows me will attest to that door being locked and the key tossed into the ocean. I am talking about taking grayson to any store. 16 months has to be the hardest age so far. The tantrums my child throws just may surpass my boss finding out Obama was re-elected. This came to my attention on Monday. I decided to load up the car and head out to the local wally world and do some grocery shopping and money flushing before work. Gray had his nap and his lunch, any mother reading this will know exactly the importance of that statement. I am thinking I should be golden, right? NOPE. There is no possible way to keep my child happy in a store, or to control my need to call him "asshole baby". I try to use visualization, ya know, going back to those moments when he first smiled, first gave me a hug, or said his first cute little hewwo when picking up the phone. None of those moments could cure the pits of hell in walmart on that day. I believe it was the exact moment  he screamed bloody murder, wiped a giant red stain of nutrigrain bar on my white shorts, and ran down the isle into a sea of old people, that I knew the terrible twos were real. Now, I was skeptical when it came to this horror. When you don't have children all you can think is that this person, who's little terror is ruining your monday nutrition adventure, must have created this evilness by lack of parenting. THIS IS NOT TRUE. I am beginning to think there is no real answer to the terrible twos, tantrums, or shopping with the above mentioned. They exist, and my child is living proof. No matter what you do, someone is going to get hurt while you are deciding what kind of cereal to buy. Sometimes I stop and wonder if it would be easier only taking one child to the store. The other child being an almost 30 year old man. Now I will gave j some credit. He finally realizes mommy has had a breakdown, and she is about to pummel an old man in isle 3 for staring as she rips opened the food she has yet to pay for, in hopes to shut up the demon. Or that he keeps his mouth shut after the 90 year old woman tells grayson to stop crying or he will never grow boobies, because mommy was ready to pounce. Since when would I want my SON to grow boobies? And is it ever acceptable to tell a stranger in the store the sad story of your own discipline attempts? Between the old people staring and offering "advice", and the single men not at work at 2pm on Monday shopping for one, I didn't know who I wanted to assult first. When did society become so blatantly rude? Finally I gave grayson to j and they walked off. A few minutes to myself was long enough to stock up on frozen chicken and frenchfries and haul ass towards the sound of a screaming toddler. No matter what store you are in, how many children are present, or what noises are surrounding you, you can always hear the sound of your child screaming. This sound should be compared to the sound of a ticking clock during a midterm you did not study for. You are simply fucked. Suddenly I hear quiet, and in "rolls" J. Grayson is quiet, and they are in a motorized chair. Really? As if people were not already staring? Now we are riding around in a motor chair like lazy fucks, with a basket of frozen chicken, french fries and diapers, and a terrible toddler covered in something red. Picture all of that next to a mommy spouting off profanity at the mouth. No wonder people stare... is this real life? Yes ... and just a few short hours out of one fucking day in my life.... but heres the sincher...I wouldn't trade it for anything... except maybe a winning lottery ticket and a date with that wolf kid from twilight.... jk... ;) ... kinda...  

1 comment:

  1. Heather your stories are priceless! A blogger you are!


If you are here to troll, dont even comment. I will be removing all comments that i see derogratory or un-needed. Thanks, h