Promises, promises

It's been a few days so I've had all sorts of little blog ideas rattling around in my brain,, but haven't had the discipline to write them down. They've since vacated the premises. Besides, I like the challenge of sitting staring at the screen and seeing what emerges in one sitting. Unfortunately, I have yet to master the "Edit" function so errors persist. I'll work on that.

Shout out to Mom! She's a first-time caller, long time fan... I'll be interested to hear what she thinks, and am hoping nothing I've already written will promote pique/embarrassment/worry.

Four months into this endeavor... wow. Weird.

The challenge remains how to fill awkward spaces in the day-to-day schedule without the default value of shopping. Molly Ellen wrote to me about this a while ago, and identified some peculiar time/space continuum abnormalities in the life of moms on the go. Here's the summary.

If you're like most families, the car is too convenient to consider giving up. So a way to conserve is to plan your trips for maximum fuel efficiency - longest destination first, group errands together, all those logistics. We're quite fortunate that everything is pretty close. It's the schedules that get kind of tricky. For instance: school drop-off and pick-up times are not arbitrary in the least, but the errands around them are endlessly variable. Grocery shopping can take 10 minutes or an hour, depending on the list and the competence of the cashiers. The library doesn't open until 10 or noon most days. The zoo and conservatory open at 10; ditto the art galleries and museum. The way it plays out is you have time increments too small to fit anything useful in, but too large to "waste". Doing nothing is really hard for me.

A typical morning starts with a 7:45 drop L at school, back to the house by 8:05 depending on how long I visit with the other parents. X and company need rides to preschool at 8:45, done 9ish - again, depending on how long I linger. The usual errands include dropping off books at the library (still closed), post office, grocery store. (I used to have the option of going to the YWCA but we finally let our membership go. Note I didn't say I actually ever went to said Y, hence the non-renewal.) Quick trip to Target, the bakery, the store that sells our favorite Peace Coffee - all within just a few blocks of the preschool. It's marvelous to run errands solo - quicker, less frustrating for all, pure luxury - and it satisfies part of my R.D.A. for peace and quiet. All these tasks can eat up the majority of a morning, but there's always a spare 20 to 40 minutes to kill. And Target and Savers and the dollar store are nearby and tempting.... It's nice to see what's for sale -especially clearance stuff. I stalk the endcaps looking for something too good to pass up, regardless of actual function or necessity. But it's hard to walk out with nothing. I swear Target should charge a $40 admission fee, just to be up front about it.

It's easier now that the weather isn't horrid to just sit in my car and read, take a quick walk, or window shop. When it's 20 below all your forays are strategic and furtive, at best. I have been going to a coffee shop often enough they know me, in a Cheers! kinda way.

But when I have a kid or two to amuse for a short period of time in inclement weather is really the time I miss recreational shopping the most. This week Monday X and I went to the local coffee shop which is our favorite - they have great hot chocolate, some reasonably health snack choices, and a well-stocked and easy-to-monitor playroom. Over the course of about an hour, I spent $8 plus tip and got halfway thru a paper I was editing.

I came to a conclusion that seemed momentous at the time: X needs rainboots and all reasonable used options have been exhausted. And he's a puddle-magnet. Begging for clemency en route to Target, I reminded X that we were looking for boots only - no toys! We make a casual sweep thru the store (I miss the days strapping him into a shopping cart. It's a control thing.) and to the shoe aisles - where they have exactly one kind of boot for boys (Lightning McQueen) and one for girls (Hello Kitty) - but the annoying cartoon-only footwear is a non-issue, as none of the pairs are in X's size. But they had lots of summer sandals! The time to buy puddle boots was apparently two months ago when there were no actual puddles because everything was freakin' FROZEN SOLID. Aaaargh.

I guess I'll be checking out Ebay and Craigslist next, in the search for the un-holey grail of rainboots.

It's ironic, though - first trip to purchase something new and necessary - and .... nada. Although as we were leaving X asked if we could get just a little toy that we could then hide from Dad... More on that theme next time.