Let me repeat that, WTH was I thinking? Did you get that? Let me just start out by saying that I am not a shopper. I have never liked shopping. When I was young my grandma used to take us school clothes shopping and my sister (the fashionista) would come home with bag after bag of clothes, me? I had a bag from the Gap or something. I just can't hack it. I only shop out of necessity. So necessity has struck our household...it is always tragic when the boy child and diva grow. Growing is a parent's nightmare. You just finished spending a small fortune on 6 items of clothing a 1 pair of shoes and they have the nerve to GROW-arrgh! If the whole growing thing wasn't enough then you have to actually take them with you to the store and endure the entire "try on" phase. Now most "normal" families can probably hack this torture but I've got an 8 year old DIVA and a 4 year old boy child who has ADHD, topple that with a husband who is working his already missing behind off ~ I end up with this mind-bending chore.
We start out on a typical Friday afternoon after picking Diva up from school and head to Target. (Oh yeah, this is after I've already spent the previous hour at Payless trying to find "church" shoes for the boy child - I think I'm banned from that store now. Pretty sure when they see us coming next time it will be like in the cartoons when they snap the blinds shut and you see that hand flip the open sign to close. Oh don't worry, I'm getting accustomed to that one.) Anywhoo, we sit through the traffic and head to the store. We make our usual promises of "yes, I'll be a good boy if you don't make me sit in the cart" (I have a 4 year old that is the size of a hobbit, so the cart is a huge threat since he barely fits.) and "oh no, mom I will not run away from you". So in we go. We make it to the shoe section, just as he spies the female manequins and sits down next to them and says "Hellloow Ladies". Okay, I don't care who you are - that is funny stuff. So much so, a sweet little girl spies boy child and starts to perform for him so he will come talk to her. Fortunately, she is in the shoe section that I need to be in. I let him talk to her while I try and gather as many size 13 shoes as I can that can pass as "church" shoes at crunch time. Too late, stranger girl has decided to bate my child to run up and down the aisles and clap for him. Next he decides to flatten himself to the point that he can squeeze under the wall display of shoes. I cannot find him. To my disbelief the employee thinks all this is funny. Because between the boy child chaos let us not forget Diva! Diva thinks that she can go to the adult section and pick out shoes and have the nerve to cop a total Diva attitude when I try to merely explain that she is 8 not 18 and her foot is a 4 not a 7. Not to mention the fact that she is the most uncoordinated girl anyone has ever seen - she walks in any type of heel like a 300lb man would. So we get, boy child situated and after many attempts and threats later finally get 2 pair of new shoes on him. Both fit!! The ones that are the best have been mutilated by some other child and the insole has been torn out and they do not have any other 13 shoes in that style - thank goodness for the back up pair. Now, boy child takes off and bolts toward the store front. I do wrangle him and finally get his butt squeezed into the cart. Whew! Now onward to narrow-heeled, long-toed Diva's dilemma. She actually didn't give me any lip this time ~ perhaps it was the crazed look in my eyes and the beads of sweat across my brow that may have frightened the speech out of her. But we tried 6 pairs on and finally ended up with a mutually agreeable pair of shoes. Shoes - check. Now onto the Diva dress dilemma. This will not take place on this night - I've had enough.
Saturday morning has it's usual "Mom, get him out of my room" episodes before we can get out the door. Not to mention the emergency, where is the nail polish remover hunt because boy child has snuck into Diva's room and painted her Bratz big-head doll (not to mention the vanity it was sitting on) with RED nailpolish, when he was supposed to be in the bathroom brushing his teeth. It's 10am - how does that song go? "It's 5 o'clock somewhere." Bucket-o-Margarita is all smiles in my freezer just urging me to come visit. But alas, it is Diva dress finding day.
We head to Kohl's, because no self-respecting 'burgh gal would think of passing up the Friday/Saturday 50% off sale at Kohl's! This trip was a sign from God that I should continue having faith. We were in and out in 1 hour. Mind you, we still had boy child flatten himself on the floor when it was time to leave and his hitting on the female manequins but for the most part, (minus the changing room discussion on when is Diva going to get girl boobs and lose the boy boobs and the jumping all around in a tight space) we survived this trip nicely. We even got the dress at 70% off! Whoo hooo! High five!!