Sunday, March 10, 2013

Sock Fight

My daughter loves to go places.  It doesn't really matter where.  She's just about as happy with the grocery store as a trip to the zoo.  So, after a rainy day stuck inside, I decided to take her shopping.  Shopping alone with  Kaia is a treat for me, as I normally take both kids just about everywhere.  Imagine, if you will, pulling up to Target at any time of any day of the week, because around here, there are so many stay-at-home moms hitting Target in their yoga pants that it might make your head spin.  It's winter here, so if it isn't snowing, it's sloppy.  My kids refuse to wear jackets.  R.E.F.U.S.E.  They're not supposed to wear the big puffy ones anyway because, apparently, they're unsafe in carseats because the compression (of the puffy jacket) that would occur in an accident could render the carseat straps too loose.  Anyway, back to the kids.  Regardless of whether we get shoes on before we leave, they'll be off by the time we arrive.  I get jacketless Kaia's shoes back on, pull her out of the car, after asking four times whether she's going to bring her "friend" in with her or leave him in the car.  Usually stuffed animals come in, but she doesn't like it when they get snow on them, so this can be quite a discussion.  By the time we're over by Mikko, his shoes are off and I'm dragging Kaia because for some reason all small children think it's really inconvenient to hold hands in the parking lot, despite the risk of certain death by car...or so we moms believe.  We get Mikko out, I am still dragging Kaia from behind while trying to lift Mikko up over the puddles he so desperately needs to jump in.  By the time we get into the store, the discussion f who will sit where has already dissolved into arguments and I dump them wherever I want because they'll bitch no matter what we decide.  And that's just getting inside!  You get the point.  One-on-one Target time is peaceful.

We strolled through the aisles of Target.  I let her pick out some "black and white" trail mix.  By the way, chocolate or yogurt covered raisins and peanuts are AWESOME!  I complained that I should have gotten a cart because my basket was heavy and she immediately dropped her trail mix into the basket and tried to take it from me.  She dropped it, of course, but we laughed.  She asked permission to hide and then squealed when I found her.  She was so good.  There was no fighting with her brother to sit in the front of the cart (or the back...whichever he'd want, that's what she'd fight for).  She had my full attention, so there was no shouting, no whining and no fussing.  We were having fun.  Despite it being late afternoon, and prime time for meltdowns and Jekyll/Hyde situations, I decided to stop at another store.

I've been practicing more yoga and needed at least one more pair of pants...for yoga, not for Target.  I recognize the irony that I had been shopping at Target in my yoga pants, but I had really been at yoga earlier that day.  I swear.  As soon as we had parked, she said she had to go to the bathroom.  Gauging whether we should go to Starbucks, where I know they'll have a bathroom or chance it at Sports Authority where they might have a bathroom, I promised Kaia I needed only one thing and asked if she wanted to go potty first.  Because it was raining, I was really hoping we didn't  need to make the extra stop.  Wrong choice.  She said she could wait, so into Sports Authority we went.

I picked out five things before Kaia reminded me that I said I was only getting one.  She was hopping around in the universal potty dance, so I set my purchases down and we went to find the bathroom.  Back in the yoga section, I picked up my things and we went to check out.  I was feeling pretty smart right about now because I'd picked up two shirts that Kaia really liked, one yellow.  I told her she could wear it as soon as we get home.  If you've ever shopped with a preschooler (at least mine), you'l know that every time you go somewhere, they have to ask for something.  Probably ten somethings.  Usually, the something is colorful.  Almost always, it's something they already have four of.  Definitely always, it's something they Do. Not. Need.  It's like a rule or something.  So with my yellow shirt in hand, I was feeling pretty clever, having killed two birds with one stone.

I was feeling smart until we walked past the socks, that is.  Yes, socks.  There they were, seven pair of socks in rainbow colors, Roy G Biv, himself.  She was awestruck.  Then she was a puppy, begging for a treat.  Then she was a lawyer, justifying her position.  Then she was obstinate and there she stayed.  Even the teenage boy working the counter commented.  You know the type, the kid who blushes when girls talk to him, who would rather be playing video games in his basement, the guy who only says "Did you find everything alright" only because he's expected to and not because he wants to have any further conversation with you at all.  Even he said, "Wow, she really likes socks, hey?"  I laughed and said, "Yeah, she's a marketer's dream...just make it bright and colorful."  We completed our transaction, during which time checkout boy answered a call, took my information down for an I'm-sure-super-valuable-frequent-purchasers-reward program (which I am not), rang up all five of my "just one" things and the kid was still talking about the socks.  I had long since explained that she has about 30 socks and that these were adult socks.  I "fireman carry" throw her over my shoulder and try to make a game out of leaving the store so that I am not further embarrassed by her new, and growing louder, obsession with socks.

We get out to the car, where it's now raining, and she decides it's hissy fit time.  She would not let me belt her in.  I'm feeling pretty calm, so I say, "Fine, when you're ready, I'll strap you in and we'll head home."  Talk about underestimation.  I hop on my phone, text Kevin and let him know the scoops, FB about the nonsense, respond to the comments I get and mostly ignore that she's blabbering on and on and on and on and on and on and on about those socks.  I explain again and wait politely.  I wait some more.  Then I firmly say, "We are not getting socks today.  The sooner you are ready to get strapped in, the sooner we can head home."  She continues with some form of , "Socks, socks, socks, blah blah blah, socks, blah blah socks...., etc."  We sat there for no less than 20 minutes and I was sincerely regretting not having gotten some tasty caffeine before the sock fight.

Finally, she accepts that I have had too many years to cultivate my stubbornness for her to win this one and she stops talking about those freakin' socks.  Instead, she decides she needs Noodles.  Oy.  She argued that one until she pouted herself to sleep...securely strapped in by her seatbelt.  Mommy 1, Kaia 0.

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