Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Do Not Enter Sandman

We took the kids up to the beach house over the weekend. We just wanted to get out a bit and I wanted to see my cousins.

The weather was supposed to be cool but sunny and after what I can only describe as a pretty shitty winter, I was desperate to let them get out and run.

We did the usual: cozy coupes, sidewalk chalk, bubbles, foot races and playing with whatever they could find in the garage.

Then we headed down to the beach. Did I mention how much I am looking forward to some beach time this summer? All the kids can walk on their own. I no longer have to hunch over and hold QT from behind. He is fully mobile and able to play independently. While watching three kids in the water may pose a bit of a challenge, it can't be any harder than trying to navigate two kids and an infant or two kids and an almost one-year-old who can't walk.

Things were finally looking up for Bean.

As a bonus we saw four dogs on the boardwalk. QT couldn't have been more excited about the dawg-dawgs.

Know what QT wasn't excited about?

The sand.

That's right. The Ladies took their shoes off the minute they stepped foot on the sand and headed for the playground.

QT got his shoes taken off, stepped in the sand, immediately put his hands up to be picked up and started whining.


You are a beach baby. The first 10 weeks of your life were spent at that beach. Your sustenance was breast milk and beach sand. We are going to take trucks down to the seaside this summer, you are going to dig, we are going to splash. Are you seriously not going to take one step on the sand? I just bought you a brand-new perzonalized Batman beach towel.

Am I going to have to buy a bag of sand and gently apply it to your feet tablespoon by tablespoon each day until you grow accustomed to it?

If that is what it takes, I am doing it. There is no way I am spending the summer with a 28 lb., 2-year-old, stuck to my side as I try to manuever the hot sand with a beach bag, beach toys and chairs all the while trying to balance my giant iced coffee, with the hopes that I might have 15 minutes to read a gossip mag before your sisters make me accompany them into the freezing cold Sound.

If your dad is there for the weekend, I have no problem with you hanging out the house, watching the Yanks, eating Doritios. But if he is traveling and it is just me, you and the Ladies we are going to have some serious issues.

Mamma loves you and she also loves the beach. Let's get it together big guy it's only sand.

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

On Chest Freezers and Costco

I am getting a chest freezer.

Exciting right?

It has become a necessity. Suddenly we are really eating like a family of five. I am making mid-week runs to Stop & Shop for frozen waffles and there is no place to shove these morning-meltdown-saving disks of joy in our existing freezer.

Because of this impending arrival, I thought it best that I reup my Costco membership. We hadn't really used it as frequently in the past and if we did need a few things we were able to piggy-back on my sister's trips and get what we needed.

Oh giant potato-sack-sized bags of Doritos, how could we have ever let you go?

Saturday, I loaded up the Ladies and we headed out to run a few errands.

Let's just admit that Costco on a Saturday is a full-blown shit show. I miss those days of shopping at 10 a.m. on a Tuesday, where all I had to do was battle the blue-hairs.

First stop was the customer service desk, where a very friendly customer representative must have said "welcome back" to me like six times. Hey, I appreciate it but that guy also knows I am not leaving there without blowing at least a buck fifty on toilet paper.

Next stop, pick up the cart and head through those double-doors of possibility. The good thing about Costco is that they have double kid seats in the front. This is great when you have more than one kid. Not so great when one of those kids weighs 45lbs and is like super tall. So, I put the Little Lady in first and then tried to squish the Lady into the seat next to her but the Lady's legs are too long and she is having a hard time getting her foot through the opening and the Little Lady is complaining that she is getting squeezed and it is super windy and my arms strength can only be compared to that of a jellyfish, so things aren't starting out that great.

The Lady is so tall I can't see over her.

Costco -- look out because I cannot see the end of the cart in front of me and I have no idea where anything is because we haven't been to this store in like two years.

Did I mention I didn't make any list and we aren't getting the freezer until mid-week so I am not even buying the gigantic box of like 900 waffles?

Hmmm. . . what do we need?

Is it me or are people just terribly ignorant of their surroundings? By all means, just stop right in the middle of the aisle when there are like three people with giant carts filled with bulk produce, granola bars and underwear piling up behind you.

We did need to buy a few snacks for the Lady's classroom. We also needed milk and wipes. QT is still a wee bit away from wiping his own moon and there is nothing, nothing worse than realizing that you have an almost two-year-old with poop pants and no wipes left in the house.

We took two laps around the giant playground assembled in the middle of the store. We grabbed some strawberries and some juice boxes. Loaded up on pretzels and veggie sticks. The Lady insisted that she wanted SunnyD. A product I am almost 100% sure she has never had. There was no way I was going to buy a case of SunnyD, in fact she had a better chance of me buying the purple stuff.

The Little Lady wanted mini hot dogs, something we passed by at one point, but she wasn't sure where. After three trips around the refrigerated section she found the box she had seen. Little Lady, there is no way I am buying 80 pigs in the blanket for you.  

I forgot about the magic of Costco. That feeling of possibility, the feeling that you may at some point actually need 72oz of ranch dressing, three pounds of deli meat and 182 slices of bread. The delight one feels lifting whatever they are scooping into those little muffin liners and shoving it directly into your face.

We loaded up the cart with a couple of Hanna Anderson dresses, the wipes, some school snacks and that giant bag of Doritios for dad and we headed towards the checkout. It amazes me how you can feel like you have a cart full of stuff and still feel like you didn't get enough. Should I have gotten the Vanity Fair napkins? A tub of vitagummies? Perhaps a canoe. The possibilities at that store are endless. Once that freezer comes I say bring on the pigs in the blanket, the boxes upon boxes of waffles, bring on the bulk. We welcome it.

Welcome back. Welcome back indeed.