shopping with raccoons.

one time i remember when the majority of my blog was about the funny things that happened in my life. i used to be able to find inspiration for post after post about the silly, trying events of the day and could gain the 'laugh about it later' perspective just by looking at my life through the lens of this blog.

since then, life has gotten more serious.
or, has it? maybe my ability to look at life through that lighthearted lens has just sort of atrophied a bit. but because i liked that ability, and it made me happy,  i want it back. so i think i'm going to practice trying to find the humor in every day things and relishing in them back here. one such instance happened the other day...

so mondays i normally work a full day, morning to evening, but with my mom being my childcare provider that day and her cancer diagnosis over the last year, things have shifted a little. so now mondays are a little less work busy, and more crazy busy trying to put together a half kid day/half work day. this monday was no exception.

and of course, this monday i decided to extra complicate by being super mom and hitting the grocery store AND then going to work. to those of you without little people in your life, that might not sound hard. even as i type it, it doesn't sound as defeating as it always turns out to be. sometimes i forget that wrangling two small people in a grocery cart that i am continually throwing perishable and delicate objects into while pushing down brightly lit and colorful aisles is a task. but let's not be fooled, people: grocery shopping with two under three is a miracle and you should applaud every single mom with kids you see in a store.

so this extra complicated monday, i decided to up the ante by taking us the extra three minute drive to the FANCY grocery store down the street. see, our neighborhood grocery is fine, really. but let's be real: it's ghetto. like, so ghetto that i get coupons for items at the store they don't even carry because they keep it so small and basic. and most days i like it that way because i KNOW that store. like know it so well i don't need a list, i can just meander down the aisles with my eyes closed and pick out our basic necessities without exercising a brain cell (an important ability when you're shopping with aforementioned maniac munchkins).

but today, i decided the big fancy store i don't know my way around was a better choice. the store with an epic produce section, a built in liquor store, a lobster tank, and far more fancy kosher aisles than i can count was my choice for the day. and because i knew it would be a challenge, i decided to leave my wallet at home and just bring my credit card with me. i also decided it would be a quick jaunt because i knew i had to be at work, so i let the kids stay in their matching raccoon footie pjs' to "make it more fun" (aka i didn't want to deal with shoes). so i stuck my card in my back pocket , wrestled my kiddos into their car seats, and drove away to the shiny, pretty new store with my hopes and dreams and dignity still in tact.

about 45 minutes later, we are limping our way into the checkout line to finish up the task at hand. i've got a cart full of two rabid raccoons eating raisins straight out of the box we haven't bought yet, a smooshed loaf of bread, two dented cereal boxes, and 87 gallons of whole milk because... boys. i am feeling triumphant and ready to win the day's challenge, when i put my hands into my pocket and pull out... nothing. no credit card. my phone and keys are the only thing i can find anywhere near me. this is where i had my first heart attack of the day.

quickly i back out of the line before they start checking me out. i frantically run to one end of the store, eyes glued to the ground looking for my (of course) CLEAR american express card. i begin whipping up and down every single aisle in the store with the crazed look of a mom about to lose her shit. i find nothing.

at the last aisle i see a store manager. i frantically explain, trying to stay calm but failing miserably. nice, sweet steven gives me a weary eye but takes me to the customer service desk: no card. he asks all the cashiers: no card. i ask him if i can leave my cart full of carefully, hand-picked groceries here to go check my car. he nods and disappears (eagerly, i might add).

i scoop up my antsy little kids with messy raisin faces, and run to the car. except we couldn't run because an enormous fire truck was parked out side and my fireman-crazed son had to touch every light and wheel on the stupid truck.

so, after that we run to the car, as fast a mom with a baby on her hip and holding the hand of a three year old with no shoes can run. no luck: the card is not in my car. i gather my shattered dignity and two dollars in quarters to pay for the raisins we ate in case they shun me from the fancy store forever.

we run back to the store. find steven. beg him to let my cart stay there for another 15 minutes while i run home to get my wallet.

run back to the car.
get in the car. buckle raccoons in.
race home.
grab wallet.
race back.
run back in.

my cart is missing.
steven is missing.
my heart attacks are coming at regular intervals at this point because guess what? i have to leave for work in less than two hours and i'm not home, not dressed, not made up, my kids are in pjs and their lunches aren't made and i haven't even bought the groceries i still need to unpack at home.

i find my cart.
i get in line. in front of all the firemen that had their stupid truck on display. i send them the evil eye with my mind but try to flirt with them with my actual eyes because... firemen.

i breathe a sigh of relief as the checker begins and think that my hell may be over soon.

it's not over though.

feral raccoon child #1 races away to the mechanical horse. i let him go- he's in eye sight so he can't be in too much danger, right? feral child #2 is in the cart but trying to get out. i quickly notice no one is bagging my groceries so i begin stuffing anything and everything i can see into the first bag i can get my hands on. out go the rules of 'meat in plastic' and 'cold case items together'. this has become my own personal, chaotic, frantic warzone as i am trying to bag with one hand and keep my child in the cart with the other.

the firemen are laughing. i'm nervously laughing back. are they laughing at me? with me? i am not sure at this point but i want to look cool and calm, even though my insides are churning with anxiety.

finally the groceries are in, my child seems contained in the cart and the other is contentedly sitting on a horse, as still as statue. i breathe just a little and enter my credit card PIN.

wrong pin. credit card rejected. do over.

i'm slowly sinking into myself, willing the credit card machine to hurry the f up so i can just be out of the limelight and get on with my day. because let's be real: at 11:15am, a frantic mom flirting with firemen while toting kids still in their pj's and no shoes on is no longer cute, it's desperate and sort of like a car wreck you can't stop looking at even when you should move on.

just then baby raccoon in the cart climbs half way out and begins to fall. fireman #1  rescues said baby raccoon. fireman #2  shouts 'raccoons on the loose!'  as my older raccoon child shouts at me from the horse. and they all laugh.at me- no doubt about it this time. and i'm mortified, convinced they are going to follow me home and arrest me for child endangerment at worst, and at best lecture me on small child safety.

and then, it's over. sigh of relief. there's nothing left to do but retreat to the safe haven of my car. the tears come to my eyes as i finally gather up my littles, slowly maneuvering my way out of the store with one hand on the cart, one baby on my hip, and the other riding shotgun on the outside of the cart. because guess what the crazy thing is? no one that witnessed this whole debacle knew what i knew: i'm pregnant right now and it means, without a doubt, this is only going to get crazier. 

God help me.

and please laugh with me.

and ps: for those that are wondering, i actually unpacked my groceries, packed lunches, dressed my kids, kept the house clean, left semi-on time, dropped off the kids, and made it on time to work, dressed and made up like a professional. that was my super accomplishment of the day.