Thursday, January 8, 2009

Comfort Food

I don't think I was ready to go to the commissary (that's a grocery store). Not that I am incapable mentally or physically - just that I walked out with a lot more than I intended to buy and none of it particularly meal worthy. I bought mostly "comfort food" even though I'm pretty ok at this point. As I hit each aisle, things just looked good so I bought them. Thinks like chips and dip and kit kats and cool whip. For those about to puke, I will not eat them all together at one time.

Aside from the comfort food, have you ever gone to the store with three kids, four years old and under? I don't recommend it as a regular event but it might merit a place in amateur or professional sports. After a relatively painless jaunt to the post office (aside from the pain of sitting on my aching tailbone and getting in and out of the car) we rolled into the commissary, found a quick parking spot and prepared to disembark. Inara has an attachment to a particular blanket (which we have 3 of) and rarely leaves home without it. On occasion, I can convince her to leave said blanket in the car. I attempted diplomacy to persuade her today. No such luck, the blanket came out of the car with her, at which point she immediately handed it to me to carry. So I told her the blanket had to stay in the car if I had to carry it. Well she's not quite 2; I don't think this carefully constructed argument carried much weight with her as she kept shoving the blanket at me. So I took it, and put it in the car. The moment the door closed she started crying and calling for her "bud-oh" (that would be the blanket by the way). I locked the car with "bud-oh" safely inside and took her hand. Her feet were magically rooted to the ground and there was moving short of being that mom. You know, the mom physically dragging the screaming toddler across the parking lot. Yeah that was me. Meanwhile I was carrying the carseat with Anya in one hand, the diaper bag on my shoulder and keeping the eye in the back of my head on Jadzia, who was holding Inara's other hand.

By the time we got to the front of the store, the screaming and resistance had simmered down and I strapped them all into the cart. My commissary, thank my lucky stars, has many of the carts that have extra seats for children attached to the basket itself. So Jadzia and Inara got strapped into their seats, Anya got put up in the basket seat and we were off to shop. Within a few minutes of getting inside, Inara has began a new chant "bud-oh, bud-oh, bud-oh". Meanwhile Jadzia is pointing out AND reaching for everything that looks remotely interesting. Curse those colorful boxes for just about every product! An hour later and way too much comfort food later - we got back to the car where Inara climbed into the front seat first to retrieve her lost "bud-oh" and ascertain that the time in the car was not a detriment to it's health.

I'm going to go have chips and dip for lunch now.

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