Have I mentioned that Cutting Back sucks?
Yesterday I went to Gymboree. For some reason it has always thrilled me to buy clothes for my children. Oh, obviously I still get excited when I get clothes for myself--I mean, I AM a girl--but there's something doubly exciting about buying an ultra adorable outfit my kids.
Maybe there's something wrong with me?
I don't know.
Gymboree does this thing where you can redeem Gymbucks. The Gymbucks take half off your order. I had earned three of them but after we bought the car, I gave one to my best friend. I was all set to beg her to take it: "Please please please, you MUST take it otherwise I'll be tempted, please please please.."
But she was all, "I'll take it!"
Anyhow, Natalie and I headed into Gymboree and I reminded her that she had to SIT in her stroller.
I made sure the seat buckle was on extra tight.
I mean, she could still BREATHE and all of that, don't worry.
I walked into the store and started to glance at all the clothes.
Oh my gosh! Too cute! Must have! LOOK AT THE MONKEY PURSE!
My mind instantly went on overdrive.
Much like women get excited over shoes, I imagine.
Oh my gosh! Manolos! Jimmy Choos! ARE THOSE MICHAEL KORS?
I'd probably get more excited about shoes if I could walk in them properly. My feet are usually safely inside a pair of tennis shoes--the few times I’ve attempted high heels I’ve teetered every which way or grasped onto Tom’s arm for dear life. Tom has told me gently that someday I’m going to have to learn to walk in heels on my own.
“Why?” I asked him, squeezing his arm. I had nearly collided into the wall moments before.
“Suppose we get invited to an event? It could happen since I’m in the military. It wouldn’t look right if we walked into the room and you’re attached to me as though you’re afraid of everyone,” Tom explained.
In high school I tried to get away with wearing flats when I’d go to dances. I think one time I wore heels and I stuck close to the wall. I sort of walked along it and yeah, people gave me odd looks but oh well. At least I didn’t go spinning into the punch bowl.
Anyhow, back to Gymboree.
So I had walked into the store and the worker gave me a warm smile because I’ve given them a lot of money.
As I was peering at a few dresses I heard a click and realized that Natalie had figured out how to unbuckle herself. She was starting to slide down the stroller.
“You need to sit,” I said sternly. I pointed to the stroller sharply.
Natalie shook her head. “No! NOOOO!”
The worker looked up from some papers she was looking through with a start.
I gave her an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry. She’s two,” I felt the need to say. I’ve been saying that a lot lately.
The worker nodded her head and went back to her papers. It’s common knowledge that the age of two is no fun. Of course, I don’t know what I’m going to say when Natalie turns three.
“MONKEY!” Natalie felt the need to tell the entire mall. She pointed to a shirt and started making monkey noises.
“Yes. That is a monkey. How about you sit back down?” I asked hopefully, gesturing to her awaiting stroller.
“NOOOOO!” Natalie howled.
Trying to shop with a non compliant two-year-old was not my idea of fun. I’d start looking through some clothes and then Natalie would run off to the back of the store and scream, “MOM!” because she thought she was lost.
I finally decided on a dress and set it down on the counter to pay while Natalie raced into the back of the store again.
“MOM!” she shrieked as I pulled out my wallet.
“I’m over here,” I said and marched back to get her. I tried to look on the bright side. At least this meant that I didn’t have to work out. Because obviously I was getting plenty of cardio in.
I picked Natalie up and tucked her underneath my arm. Then I went back and realized that the worker hadn’t started to ring me up. She was writing something down so I cleared my throat politely while Natalie kicked and kicked.
“Oh,” the worker said in a surprised tone as she looked up. “I thought this was your hold pile. This is it?”
Usually I go a little wild in the store and I start to form a pile on the counter.
This time, however, I was walking out with one dress and one shirt for Tommy. I decided to use only one Gymbuck.
I can see why that would have been a little startling.
“I’m Cutting Back,” I said with a shrug. “We bought a new car and we have to make payments. So I can’t buy as much as I used to.”
The worker tossed me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry,” she said. I thought for a moment that she was going to reach out and squeeze my hand.
I sighed. “Me too.”
The worker started to ring me up. She gave me the low total and I handed her a few bills.
“You smell nice,” the worker said politely. I wonder if she just said that to make me feel better. She may have been thinking the poor girl can’t shop as much anymore. I should compliment her.
“Oh. Thanks. It’s a scent from Dolce and Gabbana,” I said.
Okay, so she didn’t have to know that I had rubbed it on from the ad in the latest Glamour magazine.
Since I’m Cutting Back I won’t be buying perfume. But it’s okay because magazines always have free samples of perfume. So one day I can be wearing Dolce and Gabbana and who knows what I’ll be wearing the next day? I mean, the possibilities are endless.
“AHHHHHHH!” Natalie screamed right into my ear as the worker handed me my bag.
So then she rendered me partially deaf I couldn’t quite understand what the worker said to me as I turned to leave.
It sounded like she said something like, “I like the bay!” and even though I was confused I nodded and said, “Bays are great!”
Then she looked positively baffled and I realized that oh, she had probably told me to have a nice day.
It’s just, when you’re trying to hold a thrashing two-year-old it’s hard to make sense of things.
When we got home I asked Natalie if she wanted to try on her new dress.
“Cah-co-dat,” she said primly and held out her palm.
I guess the payment for getting her to try on clothes was giving her chocolate.
Most mothers may have shaken their heads and refused to give in.
But I found myself handing over a Hershey’s Kiss.
But it was worth it because I got some cute pictures:
Yes, I was making farting noises to get her to laugh. But this time I checked to make sure the new neighbor wasn't out. For those who don't know, the last time I was trying to get Natalie to laugh the neighbor had come out of his house and had given me a horrified look. I wanted to shout out, "That wasn't me! It was my mouth!" but I wasn't sure if that would have come out dirty or something.
We love farting noises in this family.
I'm off to make some Hamburger Helper for dinner.
Because Cutting Back means having lots of Hamburger Helper.