When I was in college, I loved shopping. LOVED. Didn't matter what store - grocery, gas station, pharmacy, mall - it was an opportunity for fun. The prospect of finding something new to eat or wear was exciting; I could walk around for hours pondering the ways each retail item could change my life. My feet and legs were killing me, but the thrill it gave my spirit drove me on.
Now, I hate going to the store. Hate's a strong word, but I'll repeat it anyway. hate. Shopping for food with a baby requires stamina, concentration, speed and ... a list. It requires snacks, backup snacks for snacks, toys, a few awesome songs stowed in your head for meltdowns and leaving your ego in the car.
After a while, you'll reach one of three points
1. You're exhausted from all the juggling and would rather eat stale Cheerios than attempt the store.
2. You hit the cart/stroller pushing stage. The cart, followed by an invisible little shopper, crookedly travels across the floors, just missing rows of condiments and beelining its way into some scowling woman's knees.
3. The snacks, toys and organization lose their magic and your kid throws himself on the pavement of the parking lot in rage and won't listen to your explanation that
you bought him the friggin' toy car, but now it's time to put it in our car so we can bring it to our house.
Yeah. Keep an eye out for us on YouTube in a parking lot horror scene via someone's smartphone. Probably dated this past Monday.
I don't grocery shop anymore. I can't. I was never organized enough in the first place, and now Carter and I just can't get through it together. My full time priorities are cleaning, folding, playing and throwing together some kind of noodle concoction and bribing Carter to taste it.
I feel like I've complained about some kind of similar chaos on this blog before. Oh well, babies can be chaotic, and I'm digressing.
I finally figured out how to save time, aggravation and get us all fed! Today I picked out our groceries via some laptop clicks, waited two hours, then drove around the corner and had the food ushered straight into the back of my car. It's free the first time and $4.95 each time after that, no tips are accepted. I love my grocery store! It was such a freeing feeling to not have to unstrap Carter from his seat & bark persuasive commands at him nonstop to keep him safe, happy and out of trouble. You can do it, too, if you have a Harris Teeter nearby.
Life.
Changing.
We also signed up for a program called The Produce Box. They drop a box of local produce right on our doorstep every week for $22. You can skip as many weeks as you want if it gets too expensive. It kinda forces us (the biggest fast fooders, ever) to cook and try tons of different fruits & vegetables; they're ripe, not covered in pesticides, and it gives us that warm, fuzzy supportinglocalfarmers feeling.
The box includes a paper with recipe ideas for a few of the funnier looking vegetables, too. Carter's loving it. He's devoured an entire half of a watermelon, a sweet potato and two apples so far. Tonight he decided he likes spaghetti squash.
I guess I'm encouraging you to look into these types of delivery services because I really appreciate stores that do these things, and I don't want it to ever be discontinued due to lack of participants. As a mommy, I'll take any help I can get if it means I'll have more time and energy to animate myself for my attention-hungry toddler.
I have a dream for the mommy world. Some day, there will be drive thru restaurants created just for babies where you can pick up quick, healthy, premade baby meals and a few spare pacifiers to boot. Starbucks will deliver their decadent pumpkin lattes to our doorsteps. Stores will have exclusive, express cash register lines for mothers toting short fused, in need of nap, shopping children.
At the very least, somebody, please, invent a kitchen sink faucet that dispenses nothing but milk.
