So I headed to Walmart with my children this morning to purchase their Easter baskets and fixin's. I know, I am the most fun mom out there, spoiling all the surprises by letting Mikayla hold all the Easter presents in her lap in the back of the cart. But I think it's more realistic than mean to say that hiding her Easter basket for the next four days will re-set the surprise meter. At the beginning of your life and again at the end, you could hide your own Easter eggs and still have fun hunting for them, right Dad? (He has been telling me for years that he can hide his own Easter eggs. I figure he'd be happy to know he has cute company in the short-attention-span/poor-memory camp.)
Mikayla picked out the Easter baskets. Pink for herself, blue for Isaac. There were other options, but the girl apparently goes the conventional route once in a great while. I tossed a few bags of goodies into the cart, which Mikayla is too young and naive to be excited about. I'll refrain from naming them because a few of these might turn out to be surprises for the hubs. I saved $1.97 by not getting him an Easter basket, but an Easter plastic bag gets to be exciting when you're pushing 30.
It only took an hour, but it felt like eons in a purgatory of cheap plastic pastel. They almost had me at the Easter bunny sippy cup, but this is not my first rodeo. That sucker is going to pop at its poorly-glued seams the first time a certain somebody squeezes it with all her two-year-old gusto. Instead, found a ten pack of Hanes socks that included pink and purple and should fit into a few plastic eggs (why stop at Christmas stocking when you want to give boring/awkward necessities as gifts?). AND. The poor girl has been begging for a belt for ages. She watches momma and dadda belt our jeans and asks to wear one. I've tried the double-wrap around her tiny tummy but we both know she looks a little ridiculous at that point. Today, I found a two-pack of sparkly belts, one white/silver, and the other pink, in toddler size, for the low Walmart price of "this might actually last you through the summer if little brother doesn't chew on it". Also, shades and a sweet sun hat. Mikayla totally wore the sun hat through the entire store as she carried her Easter basket. Again, best mom ever. Isaac spent the trip chewing on a bag of green plastic grass, so I'm pretty sure that seals the "Mom of the Year" deal.
I also needed a few things for myself, such as leggings and those little invisible socks you can wear with dressy shoes. Of course they were superbly organized and took hardly any time and effort to actually find the right color and size. Meanwhile, Mikayla filled her Easter basket with ladies' socks and a bra and Isaac learned how to stand up in the front of the shopping cart. I can only hope he learns how to apply that skill every time I try to strap him into something.
And then it was time to hit the checkout. Always the best and most enjoyable part of any Walmart trip, right? Lo and behold, God's providence smiled upon us. Just as we rounded the corner, with Mikayla helping me push the cart/being dragged along the side as she attempted to name every object and person we passed, I saw her. An angel in a blue Walmart vest standing behind an empty Express lane register. I may or may not have heard cherub voices serenading our approach, but I'm 80% sure a soft heavenly light shone down upon her name badge. We made it through there in five minutes, which felt like it was only twice that long as Mikayla struggled to understand why her pink hat and beautiful pink basket were wrenched from her grasp and dragged away on the conveyor belt of doom. Toddler problems.
By the time we were loading into the car, Mikayla was genuinely irrational. She wanted to hold her basket, no she wanted her book, no she wanted to get into the car, no she wanted to ride on the roof while singing Itsy Bitsy Spider. Momma pulled out the crackers, and the tears evaporated into thin air. Eyes still red and nose still flowing, Mikayla looked at me and said around a mouthful of Wheat Thins, "Crackers make me happy, momma! I not sad anymore!" I thought back to my first outings with Mikayla long ago, the times I spent frazzled and weary from public restroom diaper changes and pleading with my infant to stop crying, and I realized how truly seasoned I have become. I am a professional sippy-cup-carrying, cracker-wielding mother of two. I have learned to pack snacks over diapers any day of the week because of EFFICIENCY in bag space and implementation effort. A child will happily forget about a soggy bottom for awhile when he or she has fistfuls of food to devour. And really, regardless of the problem, crackers make it all better, at least temporarily. Motherhood is 70% strategy and 30% praying for grace. And strategy is 98% crackers.
So we made it home, and the children are napping. Except for Isaac, who just woke up because he can tell when Momma has set a goal to accomplish and he apparently has lots of help to contribute. My goal is to put together Easter baskets and then hide them in our new bathroom closet until Sunday so that the toddler memory wipe can commence.
That reminds me, we girls tried on our Easter dresses today between lunch and naptime. Mikayla bestowed her approval upon my dress and legging combo, and she looked just angelic in her fancy light-pink dress and flower headband. It seemed like a good time to show her how a lady stands and curtsies, but the girl all but fell over trying to execute the curtsy. Have you seen Rogers & Hammersteins' Cinderella? Think nasty stepsister #2.
Those Easter baskets aren't filling themselves. Thanks for reading along, and remember, if you go to Walmart, don't forget a snack!
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