So, it is pouring rain and Super Toddler and I have just dropped Super Preschooler off at Preschool, where he is going on 2 weeks without an "accident" or any "concerned" notes sent home in his backpack, which, incidentally, I have remembered every class! (But that is an another, happier post...) Sensible parents are heading home or to some other dry post to wait this out, so, of course, we are not. We are going to Toys R Us to buy a walking toy for Super Toddler's 3:30pm home visit with his physical therapist. Have I had a week to do this? Yes. Do I remotely have the budget for this toy? Nope. Am I just doing this to try and impress this woman and convince her that I am taking his delay seriously because she may have casually mentioned at the evaluation that I should encourage him to use his "walking toys" more often? Maybe. OK, yes.
Do I even know what a walking toy is? No, not really. OK. Should be a fun trip.
And it would be, if Toys R Us was open.......shoot. I quickly call Excellent Mom, who has agreed to go with me on this fools errand (mostly because she is a saint), and we reroute to the craft store. We spend the time it takes for Toys R Us to open gossiping, ogling shiny holiday supplies, and perusing grow-buddies. This is the best the day will get; it is all downhill from here, folks. Excuse me, oh, you have a question? Oh, grow-buddies; you know, those tiny capsules or itty bitty creatures that you put in water and they grow to 15 times the size. Super Preschooler is in love with them. Oh, they are just called magic capsules? And it is fairly undignified for a grown woman to refer to something as a grow-buddy? Huh. OK, well, good to know. Anywho, I buy a couple grow-buddies for Super Preschooler (a ghost, a black cat, and a castle), and we are off to Toys R Us.
Excellent Toddler jets off for the train table and Super Toddler loudly protests his inability to do the same. But I am focused, heartless, and relentless in my pursuit of this milestone of his, despite his cheerful disregard. I plop him in the buggy and wheel him into the bowels of the store, aimlessly seeking "walking toys."
Hey, Readers, guess what? Turns out that there is such a thing! Turns out there is a whole aisle of such things! Can you imagine? And it also turns out that Super Toddler and I hate them all. These things are amazing; eye-popping purples and pinks, ear-bleeding noises of the sugariest lullabies and most annoyingly happy music. Walkers shaped like trucks, trains, lions, dinosaurs, baby strollers, lawnmowers, and fire trucks. There is one alien looking one that I think might be alive and I have since had a very disturbing dream about. Walker after walker with shiny bells and whistles that just make Super Toddler yawn. And prices that make me want to faint. Oh well, that was fun. Guess he'll be crawling to that graduation, after all.
But just when I am ready to give up hope, Excellent Mom swoops in with an idea of genius. (This is so the reason I asked her to come.....and why I am friends with her in the first place. Now, why she is friends with me is a mystery for the ages.) Excellent Mom suggests one of those toy shopping carts. You know, the cute orange ones I think they have been making since my mother was a toddler. Genius. We find them in the play food aisle. Super Toddler loves it. I love the price. All is good. (Especially with the newly freed Super Toddler, who heads straight for the train table.) Let the walking race begin! Well, not literally. I mean, unless it is a crawling race; then I am sure Super Toddler would win; hands (and knees) down.
Oh, puny Awkward Mom. That is quite enough. I am serious. That is totally enough out of you today. Don't you have children to take care of? Really; hasn't Netflix done enough today? I thought so. Go on. There you go.
Anyway, Readers. Tune in next time for the actual home visit battle. This was merely the set-up. And goodness, it wasn't even all of that. The perfect-walking-toy-shopping-cart-of-delight did have one nearly fatal flaw: it wasn't assembled. That and the directions called for 2 types of screwdriver, a scissors, and a hammer. A hammer, seriously? Have we discussed Awkward Mom's construction abilities? Do we even need to? Plus, Super Preschooler was home by then and wanted to "help." Oh Readers, I will spare you. It got done. Super Preschooler may have learned some new words that we aren't gonna tell Awkward Dad about. Right? But, it got built in time for the 3:30 home visit. Where it sat in the corner, ignored by Super Toddler and the Physical Therapist, but we are getting ahead of ourselves. Tune in next time! Same awkward time, same awkward blog!
(glow wands and rave bracelets not included....and certainly not in there during the home visit!)