Thursday, December 23, 2010

Road Rage is nothing compared to my Walmart Rage

I went to Walmart today.  I know right now you are thinking "Is she effin' crazy?  Doesn't she know it is 2 days until Christmas, AKA all-hell-breaks-loose-in-Walmart?"

Yes, yes I am aware of that.  But the fact is, we are broke.  Except for a lone Walmart gift card lovingly sent to us by my husband's aunt.  And we needed groceries.  I had to risk it.

By the time I left, I was fuming.  Which isn't surprising.  But I thought I would recount my experience for you guys.

First, finding a parking spot is a joke.  After nearly hitting pedestrians, or rather, being hit by them, I retreated to the end of the lot furthest from where I needed to be: the garden center.  I sighed a sigh of relief as I found a decent spot over there despite knowing I would have to trek across the whole store to get to the groceries.

I grabbed a cart that someone had left on the sidewalk, loaded my kid into the seat, buckled him in and away we go. 

I have a question, why is it that elderly people refuse to come out of their house except at Christmas time?  There was an abundance of cart-pushing, slow-walking, dear, no-so-sweet, older people at Walmart.  And I was lucky enough to get behind all of them.  Yeah, congrats to me.

I headed for diapers first, the necessity of all necessities.  I will happily report that there were no incidents on the way to the diapers.  I did notice a group of people around a clearance rack of Texas Longhorn shirts - a great deal for $5, but not great enough to risk bodily injury.

Then I went for the butter.  I really feel sorry for Walmart employees as they struggle to restock shelves in the midst of such chaos.  Butter retrieval went fairly smoothly. 

Next on my list: sodas.  Not a necessity, but it makes for a much less grumpy husband.  I turn onto the aisle and am nearly hit by a woman with a cart so full it rivals the size of Mt Everest.  I make a mad dash for the soda, and head for the cheese. 

Cheese should not be so difficult to choose.  Really, it just shouldn't.  I mean, don't you go into the store with some idea of what type of cheese you want?  Apparently this wasn't the case for the older lady who stood staring at the cheese with her cart in the way of ALL of it, and her grown (and I mean like 40 y/o) son taking up way too much space as well.  I stood for 5 minutes, though it felt like an eternity, while they debated on what cheese to get, and a line started forming being me.  Then I gave up.  I grabbed the nearest cheese and took off.  It is seriously NOT that important.

I then grabbed some hot dog wieners.  This was accompanied by and evil glare from a woman who apparently thought I was going to grab the summer sausage that she was headed for.  It's okay lady, I am not gonna fight you for the damn summer sausage.

I headed to the front of the store for bread and potatoes.  It only took me 10 minutes to make my way up there.  Good job to me.  Not such a good job to the 256 people I had to wait behind, go around, or nearly run over because they suddenly stopped to chat with some long lost friend.  I wanted to offer them my pen so that they could just exchange numbers and go on their merry way.

Bread and potatoes?  Check.  I even did a drive-by and grabbed some donuts. 

Here comes another battle.  The check-out.  I just don't understand why on earth Walmart has 30 damn lanes, but never more than 12 open at once.  I was able to find a line with only three people ahead of me! Score!

Remember the dear, not-so-sweet older people I mentioned before?  The ones who would just as soon run you over with their scooter as look at you?  I was directly behind such a person (minus the scooter).  This lady unloaded her car onto the belt  Very frustrating to me.  By then I am becoming a little winded and claustrophobic of the crowd.  I take off my jacket as a hot flash hits me.  I fan myself.  I wait.

And wait.

Finally her order has crept up enough that I can unload my cart.  Let me tell you, my checker was less-than-thrilling.  He barely looked up at me at all and he was pretty slow himself (I feel okay saying this because I have been a checker at multiple places and was always kick-ass AND friendly).  After what felt like another year I made my escape.

I decided to go straight outside and walk around the building rather than have to walk through to the garden center and fight the masses.

Getting out of the parking lot was just as challenging as getting in. 

This is the short version of my shopping experience.  I have blocked some out, I'm sure. 

I am appalled at how people forget all manners at this time of year when it is supposed to be about kindness and courtesy.  It may not have been my fault but at every near-collision in that store, I said 'excuse me'.  I did not hear it back from anyone else.  This infuriates me.

What is your worst Walmart experience?

Monday, December 20, 2010

Ho Ho Huh?

Here is a question I have been pondering and I would like some opinions.
Those of you with young children - in what way have you introduced your children to Christmas?  Do you tell them about Santa, or Jesus, or both?  Jacob is too young to have to explain things to but I am not entirely certain of what route I'd like to take with this...

I mean, sure I had fun believing in Santa, and I wasn't traumatized when I found out that he was a hoax, but do I want to go that route with my child?  What if it does hurt him to find out the truth?  How will he feel when he finds out that Mommy and Daddy, the beacons of truth in his life, lied to him so extravagantly?
In a way, I don't even want to get the Santa thing started.  I want him to treasure Christmas as the birth of Christ.  I want him to be giddy with the spirit of giving, not caught up in what gifts he will receive.

And then I wonder if not telling my child that Santa exists will cause problems with the parents of other children in the future.  This is in no way a deciding factor, just something I am curious about.  When Jacob reaches elementary school and the kids are discussing Christmas, when he expresses our traditions and views, will he send some innocent child crying home to his or her mother, demanding to know if Santa really does exist?

Oh the things that tax my mind.  Let me know your views/plans on this.

Friday, December 17, 2010

I am amazing.

I think that becoming a parent forces you to become amazing.  I thank God everyday for our son and the changes he has forced us to make. 

We are in the process of rebuilding our credit right now, in hopes of buying a house within the next 4 years.  We would not be at this point in our lives if not for Jacob.  We weren't irresponsible people before getting pregnant, we just weren't taking action.  I am proud to say that we are now taking action, and taking charge of our future instead of just "going with the flow".  Let me tell you, "going with the flow" will get you no where.  It is a never-ending cycle.  A whirlpool waiting to suck you in. 

I'm proud to no longer be in that whirlpool.  We are still at its edge, where the waters are choppy and the current could easily consume us, but we are fighting.  That's what it's about.  Fighting what you get stuck with in life. 

I am feeling amazingly blessed today.  And amazingly adult.  I never thought that at age 20 I would be thinking of credit, buying houses, and college funds that weren't mine.  But I love it.  I am a good mom.  Screw that.  I am a great mom.  I want everything for my son that I never had and more.  I want to raise him to be an asset to the world.  He is my greatest achievement.  No matter what I accomplish in the future, he will always be number one on the list of amazing things I have done.

Second on that list would be marrying my husband.  He also makes me a better person, and wows me everyday with his commitment and love for his family.

God is good.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

My poor abandoned blog, friends, and curiousity.

I did it again.  Started something I couldn't finish.  Typical.
But I have recently been inspired to have another go at it by some of my mommy friends.

Speaking of mommy friends, I think I will tell you how my husband classifies my friends. 
To him there are three categories.
1. Friends - These are people I know from school or work. Most of them before I got pregnant.
2. BabyMamas -  These are the ladies that I know through my pregnancy/mommy forums and iphone app.  I have never met them, but feel very close to some of them and consider them true friends.
3. BoobieLadies - These are the ladies that I know from or through La Leche League.  Ladies that are breastfeeding or have previously breastfed their sweet babies. 

And that's it.  When he asks who I am on my phone typing to and I respond with one of those category names, he asks no further questions. 

Men are different from women in that aspect.  Personally, I would like to know who it is, how did you meet them, do they have kids, do they have pets, who is their grandma, who is their doctor, where do they work, what's their favorite food, what's their favorite color, and so on.  Not really.  But I do think women are are just naturally more curious.  I like to find out these things about people in our lives not because I care that he talks to people, but because I like to get the feeling that I know them to.
Now I'm rambling....

Saturday, November 13, 2010

There had better be a reason for this

My child is usually revoltingly angelic.  He is just a good baby. He has me spoiled to the point that when he does have a bad day, I don't know how to deal with it.  I get frazzled because I am not exposed to that side of him very often.

Today was a bad day. 

We went to a birthday party during which my son proceeded to throw a hissy fit.  I tried everything: rocking, walking, nursing, singing, bouncing, toys...everything I could think of.  No luck.  We finally left the party.  I know that babies will be babies but it is always a source of embarrassment when you can't console your crying child.  It has something to do with a hidden fear of parental inadequacies. 

I then tried driving around in hopes that he would calm down.  Once again, no luck.  At this point I am ready to pull my hair out.  We finally made it home where he proceeded to take a 30 minute nap, wake up and be a sweet giggly baby as his daddy got ready for work, and then become demon-child again the moment we dropped his father off.

And here we are now, my dear child is sitting on the floor alternating between dragging every toy out of the toy box and screaming bloody murder.  As this post topic says, there had better be a reason for this. I hate not knowing what is wrong with him.  I'm wondering if he is finally teething...

All I know is that I am in for a long night.

Friday, November 12, 2010

for better or for worse

They say you know you have your dream job when even on your worst day you wouldn't want to do anything else.  That's how I feel about my family.  I am majorly irritated with my husband tonight, and my son threw a hissy fit all afternoon.  But I have never been more happy with my life.  I am so excited to have reached this place.  Things were really rocky with my husband and I a few months ago, and it feels so good to have banded together as a family and have gotten past all that.  It is such a relief.  I feel like at this point, my marriage is stronger than ever.

Even on our worst day, this is the only place I want to be.

I know this is a cheesey post, and I apologise.  Well, not really, I'm happy as hell.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

N is for Naps

Today I want to talk about naps.

I remember in the not so distant past when if I wanted to have an afternoon snooze it was as simple as that.  Remove clothing, climb under covers, zzzzzzz.  Removing clothing was even optional. 

Now napping is a challenge.  Get the kiddo to sleep, pick up the mess, go pee (because I have been holding it while getting him to sleep!), let the dog go pee (because she has also been holding it!), undress (because there is poop on my clothes) and finally crawl into bed.  Wahhhhhh.  Oops, start over.

I miss simple naps, when I could sink into oblivion without a care and sleep as long as I wanted and then take forever to wake up.  Now I am jolted awake by every little sigh or eye twitch of my six month old.

I wanted a nap today.  Did I get one?  No.  did I beg my son for one?  Yes.  I am not too proud to beg, although it rarely works.

Just another thing to add to my list of things mommy did because she loves you.

That list will never stop growing.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

...I'll just pack this anyway...

People think I am prepared.  When I go places with my son, I have not one, but two spare outfits.  I have enough diapers for triplets and even extra wipes.  I have toys.  I have lotion, baby wash, and baby powder.  I have socks, and bibs, and spit rags.  I have baby food in various flavors and two different spoons.  But I am not prepared.

I am the Queen of just-in-case.  I am terrified of getting somewhere and needing something I don't have.  I am overloaded with things.  My car is a mess.  But I need these things. Just in case.

I annoy myself with this obsession.  I want to be free.  But if I try to go without something, there is that nagging little voice in the back of my mind.  Just in case.  Just in case.  Just in case.

My husband thinks I'm crazy.  I probably am.  But if you are out with me and your child just happens to need lotion (scented or unscented), or an extra long-sleeved onesie, or will only stop crying for a green stuffed elephant, then you will be thankful for my obbsession with just in case.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Stalwart Naked: the Origins

Stalwart Naked is an anagram of my first and last names.
Stalwart means marked by outstanding strength and vigor of body, mind, or spirit.
Naked means....naked.  This is fitting as I intend to bare all, figuratively of course.

I am an optimist slash realist.  I like lists.  I am a planner, although my plans are rarely carried out exactly.  I like organization but am terrible at it.  I am a wife and mother.  I talk about my family way too much (get out while you still can!)  I am opinionated.  I am defensive.  I read cheesey romances.  I, according to many, don't have a real job.  I am a stay at home mom.  I like to cook.  I like to sing badly.  I love to laugh.  I love to make others laugh.  Hopefully this blog will accomplish that sometimes.

That's me in a nutshell, or a blogshell, whatever.