So I'll start out by NOT informing you that poor handsome hubby is sore for a very good reason and it's not from his vigorous workout schedule. Ha ha. On Saturday he was out of commission from the prvious day's, uh, procedure. The Project was on a morning hunger strike after setting a vomit record the night before, and Miss M was puking her guts out. Let's just say that all I could think of was how grateful I was that he had stepped up to the plate and been the one to make sure that we would never have 3 little ones trying to simultaneously qualify for the Vomit Olympics.
Sunday night we figured out what we wanted to do and accomplish each day this week, and he said he wanted to try our annual field trip to Wegman's. Yes, it's a grocery store. Yes, we actually go once a summer. But we roam the fancy store, show the kid all the fancy and exotic produce and see the book section, talk about all the stuff we see, get unusual treats like hummus and rosemary bread, and visit the other stores in the shopping center in Cherry Hill, like Christmas Tree Shop and, this time, Lakeshore. Hubby was sure that, though he was less than 3 days out from the Man's Worst Nightmare, he would be fine.
We set out and within a few blocks he was nauseous. It was the Percoset, I thought. Probably from not being the one driving, and being hungry, he said. He can't drive on Percoset anyway, so I stopped at Wawa and got him a roll and a coke. He took two bites and came very close to redecorating the interior of the car. I turned the car around for home. Maddie burst into tears. "The train! I want to see the train!" There's a train at Wegmans. We discussed for a few blocks why he was sick: Percoset? Car sick? Vicious Virus that M had just gotten over? He felt better by the time we got two towns over, and figured he was just hungry or something. We resolved to turn around try it again. Nice little double-over detour of the towns in between home and our destination.
We got to Wegman's and did lunch first, because by now it was like 1:30 and we were all ready to eat our heads. If you've never been to this hoity toity grocery chain, aside from the absurdly large array of every gourmet/organic/weird food imaginable, they have a salad bar, a hot bar, a pizza bar, and an Asian buffet. After seeing the Asian Wokery stuff, Bob was not as into the recreational eating part of this trip as he had once been. He managed to keep down a few dumplings, I think. Maddie scarfed down an entire slice of cheese pizza before I could cut it in half. E got mad that nobody was feeding her Asian or Italian-American junk food, and kicked up a little fit. The two people sitting at tables by themselves reading got up and moved. My salad was amazing, though. Just saying.
Then I take Miss M to the potty. Now, I have two girls, not boys. So I never expected to be peed on. But then, what is life without some surprise? I have no idea how she managed this: she sits, she pees, she arcs straight out and hits me, my legs, my shoes, the floor, and she laughs. After my initial shock, so did I. Laugh, that is. Cleaning up as best I could - ever use hand sanitizer on your feet? - we hit the sink. There's this neato little fold-away step stool for kids at the far sink, and the faucet there has a motion sensor. We can't get the sensor to turn the sink on. We jump, we smack it, she starts talking to it. No water. Keep in mind that one of us is covered in pee, knees down. Next sink, holding her up: nope. The other two sinks are mechanical, so I hoist the 40 lbs of cute up and we wash the old fashioned way, modern conveniences be hanged. We walk past the first two sensor-activated sinks on our way to the paper towels and both of the damn things turn on. Miss M wants to wash again with the "fixed" sinks, of course. That was lunch. Then on to the grocery store:
We hit the snobby grocery store part and Bob got an array of fresh specialty rolls, because there is nothing my dear huband loves to eat more than bread, bread, and bread. Hummus for me (3 kinds!) and a fancy flower cookie for M. Ellie got the pleasure of looking at the lights and the promise of a cookie next year. We then found the precious train. It's a larger model train that runs on a track suspended above the back of the store. Me, I think that's cool. M was so underwhelmed she actually yawned. Bob was feeling not-so-comfortable, and so we also bought a bag of frozen corn. If you can't figure out why, you're clearly female.
Bob and the corn then stayed in the car comforting each other while the girls and I hit Christmas Tree Shop.
Pardon my crudeness, but this place is my crack den. House stuff, kitschy stuff, decorative stuff, seashore stuff, kid stuff, baby stuff, love their cheap stuff. I walked out of there for under $20, a new personal record, and let's leave it at that. However, the visit did not go smoothly the minute Miss M figured out that, in July, this place has very little to do with Santa. She was bought off with a Disney Cars double book that includes 4 sheets of stickers. Ellie was ok as long as the cart was moving. This is easy, you just circle the aisle several times to see what you need to see, and move on. It's good cardio.
Then we hit Lakeshore. Usually a Becker's girl, I've ordered via school catalog but not bought anything at the actual Lakeshore store. Again, I'll make the addictive drug comparison. SO much stuff we desired. For classroom, for child, for baby, for SELF, oh, the rampant educationally-motivated materialism! Unfortunately, there is a large mark-up for their store items vs. what they charge educators through the catalog. OUCH. These awesome multi-textured soft blocks for E: $50 for 20 blocks, excuse me? This amazing mechanical clock with labeled minutes and a digital display for M: $35 for a clock??? It's a CLOCK! For a 3 year-old! And it went on like that. We are frugal people, and we are teachers who are used to seeing the negotiated price per unit in the budget order catalogs. Of many items we said, "Please, I could MAKE that myself!" ...as if we'd ever have the time or remember to do so in the first place. Maddie picked up everything and asked for half of it, but thankfully forgot that Mommy stupidly mentioned that there would probably be a train table. Hey, Becker's has WAY more reasonable pricing and THEY have a train table! We got some cute stuff, including a more reasonably priced clock thingy,
and headed to the car. When I put the stroller in the back, out bounced 2 items that we had NOT selected for purchase.
"Maddie, did you put things in the stroller basket?"
"Yes I want that bouncy ball and the magga-flying glass."
"Did you ASK for them so we could decide if we wanted to BUY them?"
She had not thought to do so. So we stole but returned some Lakeshore toys. Serves 'em right, the prices were insane.
Then we attempted to get home.
Stupid Haddonfield. Stupid snobby wonderful shopping, beautifully romantic little stupid town with stupid old fashioned narrow streets and stupid crazy traffic. Bob felt awful and was pretty damn sure that venturing out this soon for this long after a - ahem! - was a mistake. M was cranky without a nap, but that's why she was headed home to nap. E, usually happy to watch her sister, sleep, or gaze at the toy on her car seat, was a freakin' ball of miserable baby. Hungry? Wet? Hot? Concerned about the military document leaks of late? Who knows. We are not used to this from her, and we are not used to being able to hear it when she does dish it out. See, E's voice is returning beautifully. Her vocal function is almost back to normal on most pitches, though still a little raspy and quiet on the high notes. She, it turns out, is a screecher. Dear Dr. Derby, Thank you for fixing her heart. Any chance you can screw with that nerve again to eliminate the screech? Love, Us.
We get detoured through stupid, lovely Haddonfield on a big go-around-the-block fiasco because of utility work. I never mind driving through this town, it's beautiful. Except that 1. It's four o'clock and traffic is bad, 2. Haddonfield apparently has only 2 cops, and they need to stand together talking under a tree, rather than directing traffic so that the detoured cars who have to make 3 unprotected lefts don't back up into 20 minute lines, 3. the detour cuts off our access to the road we were taking home anyway, with no warming, and, 4. E is screaming.
I'd say it took more than double the time to get home, but felt like triple.
So, annual summer Wegman's trip: Epic fail? Fodder for a bad sitcom episode?
Actually...not sure about the rest of them, but I had a pretty good time.
Aside for the pee knees. Still, I say we get a do-over. Who's with me?