Don't forget the stroller

I don't know what I was thinking when I wished for Malia to walk. I must have been crazy out of my mind.

Malia walking at home is cute 100% of the time. The way she lurches about like Lurch in the Addams Family, the way she aimlessly wanders about the house - just way too cute. When we're out in public, her walking is cute 90% of the time. The not-so-cute 10% comes from wrestling yucky stuff like gum wrappers, chewed up lollipop sticks, unidentifiable masses of crap from her octopus-like hands. If I'm lucky, it's taken away before it enters the mouth. If not, then I clean her up as much as possible and try not to think about it. Ignorance truly is bliss.

Today, after picking up Kael from preschool, I (in a moment of madness) thought taking the kids to Borders would be nice. I could get a new journal, Kael could browse through some books, Malia could get out of the house... sounds nice, huh?

We get there and Kael immediately asks to go to the "space ship carpet" in the children's area at the back and proceeds to walk there himself. The journals are at the front of the store. Malia makes a beeline for the wrapping paper and bows and grabs two, one in each hand, and tastes both.

I start getting a sinking feeling of what I got myself into. Why oh WHY didn't I bring the stroller?? Now I have nothing to tie her down to. I mean, safely keep her in the protective hold of the stroller.

I pick her up, follow the boy and attempt to herd her into an aisle while trying to read Kael a book. Having never been to a bookstore before, Malia is way more interested in walking around, detaching empty book racks and banging them together. "Never mind the books, Mom, check out these cool plastic things that make a ton of noise!" Kael, meanwhile, is getting annoyed that his story keeps getting interrupted and tries to help... by wrestling her to the ground and then sitting on her. As expected, that didn't go well with Malia and a small but loud scuffle ensued.

As a mother, I pull out my bribery card (let's get Mommy's journal and you get to watch TV at home). I manage to get the kids through the check out line without too much damage (two small spills of the little knick-knack stuff and a totally destroyed bow) and we're out the door. By this time, I'm holding Malia like a football because she's desperately squirming around trying to get back on her feet to run away. Or maybe she just wanted to taste that half eaten piece of candy goo on the ground by the garbage can.

Lesson learned for the day: Don't forget the stroller.