Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Grocery Baggers - an Inventory

You may have noticed that I blog about the grocery store a lot. I think that's because I work from home, so I really don't leave the house all that often. Grocery shopping is the one time each week that I'm guaranteed to get out of here!

I'm very picky about which line I choose at the grocery store. When I come up to the checkout lines with my cart overflowing with groceries, kids, and kid paraphernalia, I want to get in and get out. So, I select my line based on the bagger. Nope, not the cashier. Contrary to popular belief, the bagger is the person who controls the line.

So, without further ado, here is my take on the baggers at the grocery store.

The Food Snob:   The "my food can't touch my other food" picky eater in bagger form. This is the guy who thinks each item should go it its own separate bag. This guy is SO slow that the cashier has to turn off the second conveyor belt because it's piling up at the bagger station. When I get this bagger, I leave the grocery store with 180 separate, barely unfolded bags that will roll around the back of my van and end up under the seat for me to find (or, in some cases, smell) weeks later.

The Environmentalist:  The opposite of the Food Snob, this bagger wants to use as few bags as possible, either to save the environment or just to make his job more challenging. Perhaps he's bored...or he likes puzzles. After an encounter with this guy, I have to deal with bags breaking apart in my garage as I try to bring them in, freezing cold toilet paper (because it's bagged next to the ice cream), and those annoying red marks on my wrists from trying to lug more than one bag into the house at once.

"Oh, What a Cute Baby!":  This bagger, usually female, has to stop every two seconds to talk to my kids, even if it's my baby daughter who could care less about any of it. Like the Food Snob, this bagger slows the line down as she tries incessantly to get a reaction out of my 5-month-old. The result? Angry customers behind me and food bagged haphazardly at best.

The Give My Kid a Million Stickers Guy:  This guy thinks every kid should have a sticker, even if it's the stupid "thanks for shopping here," I-paid-for-this-but-it-wouldn't-fit-in-a-bag sticker. Unfortunately, stickers given to a four-year-old end up on the floor of my van or worse, stuck to a random wall or piece of furniture.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Don't Quote Me On This...

Since I became a parent, I've found myself saying things I never thought I'd say, and listening to things I never thought I'd hear. In the past week, there seem to be a few more than usual. So, here's a few things I heard (or said) this week:

  • "No, Yoda isn't a pig."
  • "Please keep your feet out of your dinner."
  • "Did you know our son thinks Yoda is a PIG??"
  • "Santa and Bob the Builder got flushed down the Lego toilet."
  • "Maybe Yoda is a pig...we don't really know what he is, do we?"
  • "I don't need to hear the play-by-play of your poop."
  • "She'd be smiling even if her hair was on fire." (that one's about my daughter)
  • "We'll have to thank Pappaw for adding the Power Rangers to our Christmas village."
  • "I don't believe you when you say you are scared of corn."
And how was YOUR week?

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Brutally Honest Bumper Stickers

I was driving the other day and the car in front of me had a bumper sticker that caught my eye. Here is what it said:

High Maintenance Psycho Chic Drama Queen with Issues

Now that's honesty.You know what you're getting with this woman. If you don't like something she says or does, you can't say you didn't know it was coming. It's kind of like her own mini disclaimer - if you mess with me today (or any day), here is what you'll get.

Wouldn't it be great if you could wear a sign that warned everyone what kind of day you're having, or what you're feeling, or what subjects are best to be left alone today? I'd love to have the guts to say it without having to say it out loud.

I liked this idea so much that I'm starting a new feature of the blog. 

What's your Brutally Honest Bumper Sticker today?

From time to time I'll post my Brutally Honest Bumper Sticker - my short but effective, no-holds-barred, statement of the day. Like a mood ring with words.

So here's today's BHBS:

Tech-loving, old-feeling, pie-eating mommy with too-tight jeans

Please share yours in the comments. Be brave - tell the world how you REALLY feel today!

(If anyone has seen this bumper sticker before, I should note that I've edited it slightly. This is a family friendly blog, after all.)

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

My Dryer Taunts Me

When we moved into our house, it came with a washer and dryer. It was one of the early front-loaders, and I was anxious to try it out. That is, until I saw what was inside.

You've seen the size stickers they put on clothes - the ones on the outside of the item so you can't possibly forget what size it is when you're looking in the dressing room mirror. Well, there is one stuck to the inside of my dryer.

It's not just any old size sticker. It says "XS".

For those of you who are normal like me, you've never seen such a sticker. Allow me to educate. That's "Extra Small." It is a real size that only swimsuit models wear. And, I guess, the dryer's previous owner. Ugh. Like I need to be reminded every time I do laundry that I could stand to lose some weight.

Some day that dryer will go to whatever heaven there is for teasing household appliances, and I'll gladly get rid of that sticker. Maybe I'll add my own sticker to a new dryer.

In a REAL size.

Monday, November 8, 2010

When Grocery Shopping Takes a Festive Turn

I went to the grocery store on Saturday, which is a feat in of itself as I usually end up putting it off until the last possible second on Sunday evening. I was very proud that I got myself organized and made it there early! Unfortunately, that joy quickly disappeared as I realized it was the worst possible day to go to the grocery store.

It was...I can barely say it...


The grocery store Holiday Open House is a horrible mess disguised as a festive party. It's the day when all the workers break out their Santa hats and man tasting stations all over the store, offering free cookies and drinks, coupons, and samples of all kinds of things that their bakery staff will be sick of making by December 26th.

On this day, they bring out all their wares and attempt to woo us into having them cook or bake our holiday fare. OR, at minimum, get us to shop there to buy what we choose to bake ourselves, surrounded by their holiday cheer.

But in reality, the holiday open house at the grocery store isn't cheerful at all. It's when the already-narrow aisles are clogged with extra tables and displays, and those of us trying to just buy our groceries and get the heck out of there get stuck in long lines of people waiting for a free cookie. While my frozens are melting, I can't get past the lady with her three kids taking up the entire aisle while they wait to sample apple cider in a cup the size of a thimble.

Now I'm no scrooge...I love to cook at the holidays, and I enjoy the early part of the season when people are still happy about it instead of later when they are stressed out about their to-do lists. But when I go grocery shopping, I'm not in the mood to stand around and visit with strangers over pumpkin pie samples. I'm there to get what I need and get out, especially if I have one or both of the kids with me. At the open house, that is impossible. Everyone's in a dawdling kind of mood.

And, aside from that, everyone thinks they can eat and drive. A shopping cart, that is.

Even people who would never dream of eating while driving think they can eat and push a cart. This is not true. I've never seen so many people bumping into displays, other carts, and other people as those who have a bunch of empty Dixie cups sitting in the seat of their cart. I'm starting to wonder if they spike the cider.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Re-entering the life of glamour

So, I was away for a while and was recently inspired to pick back up with this blog. Why?

I looked down and saw spit-up on my shirt.

Yep...I didn't even realize it was there, and have no idea how long it had been there. That's when I realized I never really left this glamorous life, despite my son Christopher growing into an active, truly awesome nearly-four-year-old.

But the spit-up on my shirt didn't belong to him. It came from his new baby sister, Lydia...our 3-month-old bucket of sunshine.

Lydia didn't exactly come into this world like sunshine, though. In fact, it was down right scary the way she arrived. It was the morning of July 20, a week before her due date, and I had a contraction. Yep, just one. Then about an hour later I had another, and decided to maybe start writing them down. It's a good thing, because they started coming so often I could barely keep up! They were four minutes apart and getting closer quickly. I had suddenly gone from wondering if I was in labor to wondering if we were going to make it to the hospital in time!

In about three hours' time from that first contraction, Miss Lydia came into the world like a runaway train. I barely got my epidural and, if you know me, you know I'm an avid supporter of drugs while in labor. You get a baby whether you have the drugs or not, so why not have them and enjoy the experience? Well, we were almost too late, as everyone in the maternity wing learned as I screamed during the minute-apart contractions. But, we did make it by a few minutes, so I was actually able to enjoy her arrival. In fact, this all happened so quickly that later in the day, when I happened to see myself in the mirror, I noticed that my make-up was mostly still in place, and my hair still looked decent. That was probably the last day of make-up for a while.

So, now I'm back to wearing spit-up instead of make-up, as I now attempt to chase two crazy kids instead of one.

Welcome back into my world.