The Necessity of Shopping Carts

So. The powers that be that run military housing decided that this morning was the perfect day to shut off our power for basically forever four hours this morning starting at 8am. I'm pretty sure they picked this day and time on purpose because: a) it's the first day of the last like four weeks where it rained, so we were stuck inside and b) they made it first thing in the morning so all our kids are wide awake and wild, and stuck in the house because it's raining!

I'm pretty sure if I were a parent in the 1800's, I would have been an alcoholic or an opiate addict or something equally exciting. How any person survived motherhood without electricity is beyond the expanses of my brain. No lights, no morning cartoons, and no PANCAKES for breakfast? It's 2012! What kind of voodoo shit is this?

I also couldn't take my earrings out in the dark. Even though I do it every morning. Without looking. Ever. But apparently if the power is out it instantly debilitates my earring-removing-capabilities. Good to know. 

So anyways, I had four hours to burn (but not to burn electricity) before the power went back on so the kids and I drove up to Mays Landing (45 minutes away. Basically, our closest el-shopping-centre) and tooled around for a few hours. 

P.S. I took no pictures today. But I will try to illustrate as accurately as possible with my amazing art skills. 

I like the Calen is big enough where I don't need a stroller for him wherever I go. He can basically walk as far as I need him to. Even though he thinks he should be able to sit in a stroller like brother, I think that he should stretch out those legs. And MY thinking overrules his thinking. 

However, there are some places that I don't like Calen walking around. Target is one of them. If I were a normal parent, I would throw Cam in the little shopping cart seat and let Calen walk next to me like a big boy. But then THIS would happen. 

Calen in Target. Sans shopping cart.

He wants to run down the aisles. And touch anything shiny. And throw anything that resembles a ball across the store. And dig through the shelves to find anything remotely interesting and toss it in the shopping cart. Including bottles of ketchup and laundry detergent. And then whines incessantly when I tell him that we are most certainly NOT buying six copies of Justin Beiber CDs or a set of 24 plastic picnic dishes shaped like vintage 70's flowers. People stare. It gets ugly.

There is a much more peaceful, sane option to shopping in Target. Calen doesn't like it as much, but that's not what's important. I completely strip him of his walking freedoms. I plop his butt in the shopping cart right behind Brother. He is now contained in a red plastic prison. Sometimes, I buy him a pretzel or a bag of popcorn to munch on as a peace offering. When I keep him contained in the cart, THIS happens.

Calm. Peaceful. CONTAINMENT

 
Victory at the price of $1.80 for a big salty pretzel that not only works as a dealmaker for sitting in the cart but also keeps their mouths too full to yell anything embarrassing across the store or beg for whatever toy we are currently passing by (well, the begging continues, but it's muffled through gooey pretzel). 






 

 

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