(Please note that I wrote this post on Thursday, but failed to publish it till today because I wanted to post a pic of the boots along with the story.)
I do well with window shopping. Mainly I think it's because I am so cheap. I thoroughly enjoy looking and falling in love with clothes, but my love affair stops just short of the cash register because it pains me to pull out the dough to foot the bill. Don't get me wrong, I do buy new clothes, quite regularly in fact. However, I typically buy during the off season so I can get great deals. I am sometimes thankful that the retail industry fails to stock boys clothes in great arrays like they do with girls clothes, otherwise, I would have a harder time resisting the baby clothes temptation. Which leads me to my story for the day. You see, for fun (and mere mental sanity sometimes since I need to get out of the house) B and I will go shopping. I typically don't buy anything unless it's too good of a deal to pass up (like the Gymboree khaki pants with turtles embroidered on them. I got them for $5!). Well today was a first for me. B and I were perusing the aisles at Walmart during our weekly trip and I decided to walk down the shoe aisle. I usually get frustrated on the shoe aisle because it's even worse than the clothes section. Usually you find about 2 pairs of shoes for boys, and about 200 pairs of girls shoes. And to top it off, the boys shoes ALWAYS have velcro. Velcro on shoes is one of my baby fashion pet peeves (sorry if you dress your kid in velcro shoes, but I just highly dislike them). I have sworn (I may come back to curse my own words) that I will tie B's shoes for 10 years if I have to, I just don't want him wearing velcro. Which is why he mainly just wears socks (no show socks mind you, since I also hate baby socks that have the HUGE cuffs on them). OK, off of the rabbit trail, back to the topic at hand: the Walmart shoe department. So B and I head to the back of the aisle, and I was not intending to find anything, other than something to stir my frustration with the retail industry's lack of thought for the baby males of the world. Today was different though, because out of the corner of my eye, little boots caught my attention. Little cowboy boots to be exact. Be still my heart. The tops have mossy oak camoflauge and the sides zip all the way down to the sole so you can easily slide them on your little cowpoke's feet. I immediately have visions of my little man dressed in jeans, a white polo and cowboy boots and fall in love with him all over again. The smallest size they had was a size 3, but that's OK, we slid them on his feet anyway. He kept giving me his inquisitive look, and finally I agreed with him-- we had to splurge. And so I plopped them in my buggy, continued on with my trip, and made it all the way to the front of the store without changing my mind. They are still here at home, on the table, awaiting Drew's homecoming tonight so I can show them off. We're hoping he agrees that they are just too cute to pass up.
Yesterday as I was standing in the checkout line at Target, I was behind a mom with 2 preteen children. I normally stick to myself and try not to eavesdrop (oh, who am I kidding, I am the most opinionated person out there, so ofcourse I am going to watch and develop an opinion of ALL around me!). This lady acted SO put out with her kids. I mean, the rolling of the eyes, the whole "you guys are killing me" and "you're driving me crazy" (yes, she really did say both of those things, and yes it was loud enough for the entire store to hear... no lie). I looked down at Brayden who was content in his car seat, smiling and cooing at me and wondered if I would ever bring myself to say those words to him. I hope not. If I learned one thing through trying to get pregnant, it was that this little life is a gift greater than I deserve. I also thought about my friend Rebecca's blog post about cherishing every moment that we have with our children as our gift to her. I then thought of my friend Crystal, who has been a sweet friend to me during the months of my struggles with getting pregnant. I wanted to go up to this lady and say "Excuse me, but I noticed that you seem to be able to let everyone know how unhappy you are with your children right now, and I happen know 2 women who would love to have them. Let me take them to someone who deserves them a bit more than you... Thanks!" Were it that easy, I just might have done it. And no, there's really no huge point in this post, other than for me to vent for a bit because sometimes I just get so frustrated by the fact that God gives children to people who just don't seem to care, and takes away children from people who would (in my opinion) be some of the best parents in the world. It's just not fair, and I just needed to get that off of my chest.
Today, this morning rather, seems blog worthy, if only to chronicle the sudden down turn of events so that maybe once day I may look back and laugh (or sigh with what I lived through). It started out like any normal day, and I got a wild hair up my sleeve to surprise Drew at work. He's been having really hard days there lately and I thought that we could bring a smile to his face. Ofcourse, we did and he was surprised. He walked us out to the car, and was putting B in his carseat when I noticed my back tire almost flat with the ground. GREAT. Drew had a conference call at 11:30, so he had about 15 minutes to change the tire. He stripped down to his undershirt, got to work and I held B. I get on my way to Sam's (thankfully I was already heading there) with my donut tire in tow (which was also low). They tell me that it's going to be about 2- 2.5 hours. Ah, nice. I didn't pack my cover for nursing, didn't have a bottle. I found a tv situated in front of a sectional couch, perched myself up with my diet coke, diaper bag & stroller and rocked B until he fell asleep (or whatever form of sleep it was, since Sams might be the best lit place in all of America). He only fussed while I was eating, but that was quickly stopped when I got him out to hold him (I successfully ate 2 pieces of pizza with 1 hand... not an easy feat!). After 2 hours, I was told they were unable to repair my flat; apparently I got a nail head in it. The tires I currently have on my car are special order, and it was going to take 6 DAYS to get them in. 6 DAYS on a donut tire. I can't get a hold of Drew so I start freaking out mentally thinking : I have guests coming in this weekend, I have procrastinated shopping and cooking for those guests, and now I have no transportation. AMAZING. I pack up B and head back home, driving 50 MPH on the interstate and watching EVERYONE pass me by. Do you know how utterly embarassing AND frustrating it is to drive that slow on the interstate? Thankfully B slept the whole way home. B was supposed to eat at 1; he wasn't able to eat until we got home at 2. Did I mention he was an angel baby? Thank you Lord for protecting me from a SCREAMING child. I just don't know if I could have brought myself to squat in a stall at Sams Club trying to breast feed. The thought brings my to near tears. Thankfully God has also blessed me with an amazing husband (we did have a bit of a spat for my angry outburst at not being able to get a hold of him in a desperate situation, but we have resolved the issue) and he came home to get the tires fixed TODAY. We got online and noticed that there is a BETTER tire for a CHEAPER price that was at another Sam's in the area with only an hour wait. So here I sit, completely EXHAUSTED from my morning/early afternoon, my husband is amazingly on his way to get the tires fixed and the rest of my errands ran so I don't have to disrupt B's day anymore. Now please, I know that just reading this has made your head hurt, your heels ache and your body tired, so let's all go take a nap and get some rest. For grins and giggles, I'll post the latest pic of B in his newly purchased garage sale outfit. Have I mentioned how much I love garage sales for kids clothes?