They Can't All Be Winners

Anytime it rains, I suddenly develop a severe case of cabin fever. Today was no exception. Fortunately for me, Alexis doesn't melt when she gets wet. So she and I spent our day running errands, darting in and out of stores while one of us avoided puddles and the other went to great lengths to find each and every one of them. I'll let you figure out who ended up with the soaked through and through Dora tennis shoes.

While we were at the grocery store, I had the sudden realization that things have indeed changed. First there was the fact that Daddy was nowhere to be seen. Grocery shopping is usually a joint venture crammed into twenty minutes on the weekend. It involves much running, yelling, screaming, and usually ends in lots of money spent, and not much food to show for it.

Today was a little bit different experience. I'm a little slow, so I forgot that Alexis only battles over sitting in a cart when Daddy is around. I was all lecturing her about how she had three choices--sit in the cart, sit in the cart, or sit in the car--when I realized she had already crawled into the little car attached to one of the carts and was trying to buckle her seatbelt. Independence is a wonderful thing.

I started out flying through the store, glancing at my watch every few minutes, then suddenly stopped in my tracks. There was no race. No deadline. No reason to rush. So Alexis and I enjoyed a leisurely stroll the store, complete with time to check labels. Can I just say there is a whole heck of a lot of unnecessory things in a package of sweet potato fries? And did you know that there are over ten varieties of cinnamon raisin bread? And that they were not all created nutrionally equal?

Near the cereal aisle, I had a brief moment of sheer pride. A very haggard-looking Mom was struggling to make it through the store with her 3 (or so) year old son. As he gave her absolute fits, she muttered, "Why can't you behave like that little girl?" Oh yes, she was referring to my daughter. I know because I looked all around to make sure that wasn't some angel somewhere nearby. It's probably fortunate that I didn't run into the same woman in the dairy aisle. That would be right around the time Alexis suddenly declared herself hungry and couldn't seem to understand why she couldn't just eat the "cheesebreadcrackerswafflesbananaspotatoesicecreambeanscarrot PLEASE." I'm not sure if she was reading our grocery list or just reciting every food word she could think of a the time. I do know that there is simply no way to explain to a one-year old that you can't eat food just because it is all around you.

It's been a long time since I shopped for groceries while most of Pittsburgh was at work. I think I liked it.

Remembering the Screamapiller

It's really starting to bother me that I still haven't figured out a Halloween costume for Alexis. We are officially past the point in time where I could have potentially made something for her if I couldn't find just the right thing in a store. So that means I have to find just the right thing in a store. But what? There just isn't anything that is screaming to me this year like there was last year.

I say "screaming" because that's exactly the word for how I came into the idea for last year's costume. Our darling little Alexis was a born screamer. She LOVES to scream. The louder and higher-pitched the scream, the more likely it is that Alexis is having the time of her life. I was hoping it was a phase that she would grow out of and it has faded a few times, but it always comes back. She just likes to scream. Those who are hearing her screaming fits for the first time always seem to believe she's in some sort of pain. But no, she's just entertaining herself. So of course Alexis was a Screamapiller last year.

If you're familiar with the Simpsons, then you may remember the episode where Homer finds a little caterpillar that likes to scream, wakes up at all hours of the night, has to be fed constantly, and is just about the cutest thing ever. Except for the part where it likes to scream, that is. That character so perfectly matched Alexis' personality last year at this time, that it was a natural choice. So I searched Mr. Google for a few minutes, and found her this Screamapiller costume:

But this year I just can't seem to figure out what would be most fitting. While she adores Dora, I very seriously doubt the wig thing would go over well. Other than that, I got nothing. And I am stressing over it. After all, this is probably the last year that I will have any say in what costume she wears. Next year at this time, she'll be demanding whatever it is that she will be demanding. It's my last chance to come up with the most perfect costume ever. Because you know I'm not ever dressing up. No way.

Encouraging Birth Control, One Salesperson at a Time

Alexis has been in nothing short of a phenomenal mood for the past few days. As with all one-year olds, that means she has been engaged in an absolute flurry of activities. The running, jumping, running, squealing, running, jumping, running, giggling, and running have gone on and on and on. She's been like the Energizer Bunny, if only he were to drink WAY too much caffeine so as to seem as if he was acting in fast forward motion.

Today's activities included lunch at Costco (What? You don't manage to make a meal out of the free samples? Well, you should.), a few stops to try and locate a Halloween costume suitable for the hyperactive one (a monkey? a butterfly? a princess? I still don't know!), and some browsing of really fun toys at various electronic stores. We do these things without giving second thought to the fact that our child is pushing the cart, running up and down the aisles, screeching at the top of her lungs, dancing on top of any surface she can mount, and generally making the best of whatever her current situation may be. She's enjoying herself, and so we sort of just go about our business.

It was while she was pretending to be Mary Lou Retton on the uneven bars (also known as Daddy) that we needed to engage in a conversation with a young man at Best Buy. This young man obviously was not accustomed to children that suddenly scream with delight, sing random and generally incoherent lyrics, hang upside down, clap their hands, and declare, "Hi, I'm Crackers!" He seemed a bit . . . what's the word . . . SCARED TO DEATH. Which, of course, made the situation all the more funny. As he tried to focus on the adults' questions with his ears and brain, his eyes were clearly focused on the three ring circus in front of him. He could not stop staring and grimacing. He probably was praying silently that Alexis wouldn't suddenly start using him as her form of entertainment. If she had so much as made eye contact, I'm sure he would have sprinted out the front door of that store so fast he would have been nothing more than a blue blur.

We rewarded him by purchasing a really fun toy, and left him with a story that I'm sure he'll repeat several times in the next few weeks. It will probably become known as the Reason He's Not Having Kids.