Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Where For Art Thou

I feel lost today. Utterly and completely without purpose. Like a shepherd without a crook. Like a painter without a paintbrush. I have felt like this for the last few days. The reason for my total dismay? My camera batteries have died. OH WOE IS....okay fine. I'll stop being so dramatic. But I do feel a little lost. I'd become so attached to my camera and used it so frequently throughout the day that I've lost the will It's not as fun without pictures! I know what you are saying. "Ummm, why don't you go to that place called a STORE and BUY some batteries". That would be a logical solution to my problem. Unfortunately I just cannot justify making a trip to the store just for batteries. sniffle.
As sad as I am, I can't do it. Not only is it a huge waste of gas (in my mind) to drive to a store for one small thing, it's also quite an ordeal. Let me run through with you what I would have to orchestrate in order to make a "battery run":

1. Gabe would need to be dressed. Yes, he is only in a diaper. Yes, this is his preferred daily outfit. Yes, this is a regular scenario in our house.
2. Getting Gabe dressed involves a sudden burst of his favorite game "Catch Me If You Can, Mommy!" (not sold in stores). True, my legs may be longer, but that boy is shifty.
3. Eventually Gabe's uncontrollable giggling would slow him down and I would manage to snag him and put his clothes on. This is not an easy feat with continuous giggling and kicking feet. Trust me. I have bruises to prove it.
4. The jacket and shoes. (See: #2-his favorite game)
5. While all of this is going on, Vaeh is running around on all 4's acting like a dog, therefore encouraging Gabe's waves of excitement and giddiness.
6. Getting Vaeh to calm down enough to get her jacket and shoes on takes at least 6 repeats of "Vaeh", each time with Mommy saying it louder.
7. Finally I catch Gabe and with the help of Vaeh holding him down, I get his jacket and shoes on.
8. Me, flustered and now sweaty from all the "game" playing, don't particularly care about how I look and just want to get home before I even leave my house. Keys, purse, kids, lets go.
9. Load children. Each piece of cargo gets strapped into it's respective spot. More kicking, laughing, squirming, laughing.
10. 7 out of 10 times Vaeh gets her seat belt unimaginably twisted and can't pull it far enough to click it into the buckle. This is usually associated with stomps of frustration and mini tantrum-pulling (from her, not me). This then means I have to climb into the van, crawl over to her seat, hang over the back of her seat and try to untwist the massive knot of death she had somehow created. Odds are this scenario WILL happen if I dare venture out for a "quick run to the store". FYI: that doesn't exist.
11. Once we actually get on the road (Thank you LORD) and after they have been perfect angels for the 10 minute duration of the drive (why they can't be angels outside of the vehicle is beyond me) we arrive at the store.
12. Unbuckle. Unload. Lock doors. Make sure I have the keys in my hand. Close doors. Enter store.
13. I will save you from the horrific details of the goings-on that take place with my children in the store. There will be running. There will be grabbing of items off store shelves (glass is not immune from the clutches of Gabe). There will be crying (it's inevitable). There will be yelling. And that's just the first 5 minutes in. This is usually associated with stomps of frustration and mini tantrum-pulling (from me, not them).
14. Grab batteries. Buy batteries. Hurry out of store before store owner bans me from coming back.
15. Load children. (see: #9 and #10. Seriously?! Two twisted seat belts in one trip?!?! How does that happen?!?!)
16. Arrive home with a strong desire to kiss my living room floor. Pick up shoes, jackets, clothes (he is THAT quick) off the floor, hang everything up and put the shoes away. Beg both of them to please, please, please stop running in circles through the living room and kitchen screaming at a pitch that makes my eardrums vibrate.
17. Flop down on the couch and completely forget all about the batteries.

I don't know about you, but I think I'll just wait until I HAVE to go out. I can go a couple more days without my camera. Especially if it means staying sane.

1 comment:

  1. I know exactly what you mean. I can't blog without pics too!

    Hope you got your batteries by the time you read this!!



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