Today was quite a day of hustling, bucking, stuffing diapered butts into their car seats, in and out, cart pushing, wiggling in and out of a few last minute shirts in dressing rooms (let me tell you how much I am hating loving having to buy new clothes because all my others don’t fit because I lost weight).
Picture me, plus five kidlets, navigating through clothing racks, make up counters (in search of a new eye brow pencil to replace my seemingly missing one) and attempting to not knock over displays of hair products at the PX (Post Exchange – on base department store for you non-military folk) with over-excitable children in tow.
Not a lot of fun, but there were moments of adorable-ness. “Ooh, mommy! You look so skinny in that shirt!”
“Thank you, honey! You are now my favorite.”
I kid, of course. (Maybe) {giggle}
I score some choice clearance pieces, and suddenly my stomach gets into knots. (Have I mentioned I have a hernia? No? Well, I have a hernia. It needs to be operated on, and I’m a stubborn mule who won’t because I’m afraid of the doctors here. So, there’s that…) So there I am, cart full of things awaiting purchasing, and I’m doubled over in pain because I tweaked my stomach muscle. I’m barely able to navigate it to the registers, and I’m practicing my lamaze breathing, scaring people because, well, I’ve got no stomach, so why the hell am I huffing and puffing and looking like I want to eat someone, gripping the cart like I’m gonna Hulk out and smash things, y’know?
After scaring the daylights out of the local folk, I grip the cart just far enough to fling my purchases into the car, as my older children navigate the younger ones into their seats, and I barely get home to slide onto my couch, heating pad on my belly, trying not to hyperventilate.
After an hour or so, I realize, I forgot something. Not good, I’m on borrowed time, here, tomorrow is my last full day before we leave to Houston for my departure to BlogHer, my time is planned, I can’t do this tomorrow.
I get up. I get on my shoes. I head to Walgreens at 9pm at night, because, well, the PX was now closed, and Walmart will be visited tomorrow, again, with all kids in tow, because I promised them (I know, kill me now. What did I promise, here? Why?) And did I mention, alone?
I’m alone, people. A-L-O-N-E. Hubby let me go by myself. Are ya feelin’ me here? I’ve got shopping to do, and I barely know what to do with myself. I’m carrying a basket. I never carry the basket, it’s always a kid, or my wallet while I wear the baby, or push a cart. I’m suddenly feeling all growed up and stuff (yes, spelled that way purposely) and lovin’ my growed up time by myself. Alone.
I’m a big girl, now, didn’t you know?
I pay the lady, who must’ve thought I was on something for smiling so wide at my ability to pull out the debit card without wrangling a kid out of the way to free an arm, and doing it in silence instead of encouraging a child to stop touching the candy, or something not theirs.
I left, smiling, after finding some choice travel-sized things, along with my forgotten purchase of hair spray, and head to the car, turn on the radio and a song comes on that I just start wailing on. WAILING on.
“If you want tooooo, I can save youuu. I can take you, awayyyy from heeeeere!”
At the top of my lungs.
“So lonelyyyy inside.. so busy ouuuuut there! And all you wanted was somebody who caaaaaaares”
I hit repeat, and sing it again. I hit repeat again, and sing it again, this time singing out loud while handing the ID dude my ID at the checkpoint. I swore he was gonna make me pull over the way he glared at me.
I kept singing, kept the window down during this awesome night, singing, happy, alone (did I mention alone) and down my street, singing at the top of my lungs, parking the car, sitting in the dark, still singing in my driveway, in the dark, eyes closed, singing like I’m the next big thing in concert.
“Please can you tell me, so I can finally see, where you go when you’re gooooooone…”
The song ends. I take the CD out (to get it onto my computer, because that song rocks) and immediately in shutting off the car I realize, my window was still open the entire time. While I sang. At the top of my lungs. And my neighbors were outside, looking at me like I grew another head.
Um, yeah.
Never miss a thing! Subscribe today for all kinds of crazy parenting fun!