Aaah, winter. The bulky, big, can't scratch-my-nose-'cause-my-arms-are-stuffed-into-sheep's-wool clothing season. Is there anything worse than bundling up your baby in all their winter gear (even if it is girly and pretty), putting them into the car to be further restrained by the five-point harness and then listening to them cry all the way to the store because they can't reach the toys hanging in front of them in their car seat? Is there any wonder that my little girl HATES the car right now?
I would too, if I were her.
Everything is big in the winter. Big boots, hats, mittens, scarves...then we become big after putting it all on. It takes 'big' time to take it all off, too. Big heating costs, the biggest colds/flu occur around this time of the year and for me, my bum is the biggest in winter due to the recent holidays and lack of outdoor exercise.
It occurred to me the other day as I was shopping with my children at the local supermarket how much longer it takes me to shop in the winter as opposed to the summer. During the summer, I'm in and I'm out. No one to bundle up and no snow or ice to manuever around. This makes for a more pleasant time in the store because my children are in a much better mood when we get there.
Let me explain.
You see, I usually have a half-hour window with my kids. After about a half hour, the supermarket is no longer 'super' to my children and they want OUT. I try to bring things to keep them busy, but nothing can deter an 18 month old and a 10 month old from expressing their displeasure at being bound in their stroller and forced to wade down aisles upon aisles of boxes and bags and things they can't touch. By the time we get to the check-out, my little angels have undergone a metamorphasis and have now become little banshees. People, (without children) look at me like, "Are you going to just let them scream?", while some Moms look at me like, "I know, mine were doing that just five minutes ago...I feel your pain..." and some others look like they're rushing to get their stuff purchased, packed and out of the store before my children spread their 'bansheeness' to theirs.
Then there's the dreaded 'redressing'. You have to stop before you leave the store to put all winter-wear back on. Hats, gloves and bulky coats go on with much difficulty due to arching backs, flailing hands and kicking feet. It's like trying to catch a fish out of water. You begin to breathe heavy and sweat from the extra exertion and the inability to express your loss of patience by screaming your own head off and pounding it against the coinstar machine (which would be rather inappropriate behavior to indulge in). In your haste your hands start to move rather jerkily and you zipper your son's jacket up past where he's comfortable. Now you've done it. You try to correct your mistake but the zipper is now stuck. Desperate now, you try to force the zipper down while mumbling a few choice words that would make a sailor blush and you hope your child doesn't repeat. You manage to move it down a bit, but it doesn't matter. Your son's highly insulted now. You brace yourself for the audible onslaught as his mouth drops open and you wait while he sucks in enough air to scream from now until Christmas. You abandon trying to calm him down and begin to zip up your little girl who is now reaching pitches only dogs can hear. You almost have her completely zippered up when you realize that your little boy is STILL sucking in air and when THAT scream starts it's going to be at a decible unknown to man.
His scream is released while you are leaving and has a siren-like affect as the crowd of people leaving the supermarket part and pull their carts over so you can pass.
You shove the groceries into the car (not knowing why you bothered making sure the bread was separate since you've no idea where the bread is now), shivering the whole while because in your haste you forgot to put your own coat on. You stuff the kids into their seats (which becomes another monumental feat due to the afore-mentioned arching backs, flailing hands, kicking feet etc...), clip their seatbelts on, belt yourself in and peel out for home.
As I pull into the driveway I realize that the screaming stopped five minutes ago. I look in my kid-view mirror and see that they're both asleep.
Then, I sneeze.
I think to myself as my children wake-up and start screaming again, that somebody somewhere has to start a chain of drive-thru supermarkets. Drive-up, order your stuff, pay for it and two young kids come out and place it in your car. No screaming, no coats on - coats off, no kicking feet and flailing hands. Just pay, get 'n' go. I'm sure there would be a Nobel Peace Prize for the person that comes up with it.
I sigh.
That person would be my hero.
- The Mamasaurus
