A Little Slice of Heaven

Today I achieved Mommy Bliss. No, I didn't get Potty Nirvana. Nor did I get Blessed Couple Time. Or even Private Time.  I got one of the most elusive prizes in all of Mommydom..........

I went grocery shopping alone.

I don't know how I got Tom to agree. It must have been my mad skillz in bed because he just said "Okay". No begging and pleading, wheeling and dealing, just okay. He agreed a week in advance and didn't go back on it.

I'm still in shock.  

I can't even begin to describe how wonderful it was to not have to buckle and unbuckle three wriggly bodies. No reminding jam hands to hold together and not to run in the parking lot. The lack of whine about which jumbo cart ( truck, green seat or gray seat) was astounding.   

I even parked the rolling living room in the furthest spot from the store just so I could enjoy the walk. It was such a beautiful day I figured, why not? And I didn't just walk, I sashayed. I strutted the stuff I no longer have like I still had it.

It was just delicious.

I had my list mostly made out but I didn't really need it. Why, you ask? Because I remembered almost everything on my list and then some.

Amazing, isn't it?

That's right folks. When left alone, I can form an actual coherent thought. Not just a thought, but a thought process. I wasn't interrupted on a 15 second basis to entertain, decipher, buckle back in, feed or kiss an imaginary boo boo. It was like some one smacked me upside the head and said " MOMMY BRAIN, BE GONE!". 

Total in store time - 1 hour and 15 minutes.

Try doing that with three kids under 4. I dare you.

I was so thrilled to be done that fast I didn't even complain to the manager when the cashier jammed a months worth of meat into one bag. I should have though. If I wanted that, I would have saved myself the extra 20 minute drive and gone to Walmart.

I got home and the house was clean ( normal for Tom to do) and the kids were just finishing dinner. No one was crabby from being forced to sit for a 40 minute car ride then 2-3 hours in a cart and then a 40 minute ride home. No one was hungry or tired or carsick.

Did I mention it was pure bliss.

I'm gonna have to figure out how it happened so I can do it again next month.

Taking The Stage..............Sort Of.

Sorry Mama Kat, I just couldn't do it. I read the prompts and the only one to jump out at me was the singing. There's just one little catch. Okay, two.
1- I have no video camera or even a cell with the capabilities.
2- I can't sing. Seriously.
You know those people who say they can't sing and then they open there mouths at karaoke and they're passable. Not the situation here. Not even close.
I had know idea just how much I sucked for a long time. I can recall countless occasions that my mother endured my "performances". I never noticed her cringe the trooper that she was. I also never noticed how she would try to keep me talking in the car. She ever resorted to sword fights in the car. Not once did she ever tell me the truth. She just smiled and nodded, encouraging me. Little did I know, her ears were dangerously close to bleeding. I love that woman.

I found out about my problem on my own, eventually. I discovered a tape that my cousin and I had made for New Kids On The Block when we were about 9 years old. We used two boom boxes on my grandparents front porch. You could hear my brother making fun of us in the background. At the time I thought he was just being a douchey big brother. Now I know better. He was right. I sounded like this


















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I was mortified. I had joined chorus my senior year in high school. I made a complete fool of myself again. I got over it. I love to sing. It's a way to express emotions that you can't put into words. It makes me happy to sing.

I put on concerts for my kids on a regular basis, complete with air guitar and knee slides. I them my all. I behave as though my kitchen is a real stage and there are a thousand fans out there. My greatest hits are played to the hilt. Come On Eileen, Her Diamonds, Empire State of Mind, ska, rock, hip hop, pop, 80's and 90's. It's all magic to me. The smiles and giggles and getting dizzy spinning around. I leave it all on the stage and we collapse in a pile to catch our collective breathe.

The next day, when I'm singing along to the music channel, Amanda tells me to stop, loudly and repeatedly. Apparently I suck again. I won't stop though. I love to sing, it makes me happy. And happiness is what survival should be about.