This is a blog entry chronicling a regular day in my current life, just in case someday I need that information. 

I won’t need it. But … just in case.

Yesterday I started feeling a little bit like I might lose my mind if I didn’t do something that my normal (read: “before children”) self would have done on a beautiful Spring day. Like shop, eat something fattening, or waste time somewhere wandering aimlessly.

My children might be the reason that I can’t fit in my pants … but they can’t stop me from TRYING to be normal. I put that word in all caps because all I can do is TRY. 

I took them to our fancy outdoor mall and we made it through exactly three stores before I realized that was all any of us were going to be able to handle because I have never been a fan of shopping with anyone except for myself or possibly my mother, and certainly never, ever children. Goodness GRACIOUS. I turned my back to look at some dresses and before I knew what was happening ONE had grabbed the umbrella stroller and was turning his little brother in fast, haphazard circles and then he tried to shoplift a necklace because he thought it was pretty and I should take it home with me to wear for Daddy … so we immediately left the store and I let ONE throw almost all of my change into an outdoor fountain.

After that I decided I wanted to go to Whole Foods because it was nearby and I always feel happy when I go there. And I thought, I could show the kids all of the pretty produce and dispensers full of multiple kinds of beans and maybe we could get samples of cheese.

So we went, and it was marvelous. They were as enamored with the place as I am.  I even maneuvered them through the wine section without breaking anything which was nothing short of miraculous. Those aisles are narrow.

Then I gave ONE a cookie to keep him quiet for a few minutes. There he is, in the background. No sound. So nice.

Then we came home and I took this ironic picture.

After that, I proceeded to eat almost an entire Newman’s Own pizza by myself and then spent the next hour lamenting over why I can’t eat like a bird like a real lady. 

The end.