Meh-Go-Round
Over the weekend, Wombat took his first spin(s) on a (s)carousel for a friend's third birthday party, and although at first it looked as though things might end in tears (and rightly so, for the entire pavilion was decorated for the season like a nightmare), the experience ended not with a scream or even a whimper but a look of overwhelming disinterest and then a sigh to match. Perhaps we underestimated his thirst for adventure? Next time: a full-scale rollercoaster with a full-twisting loop-de-loop.
(Historically, whenever I've gone grocery shopping, I've done whatever I could to avoid driving the shopping cart because it made me feel too much like a middle-aged suburban soccer mom when I still considered myself just a girl, just a kid. I'd drag the cart behind me with a finger hooked into the front, or, more often, have my shopping partner drive it for me--anything to avoid being at the reins myself--and even now that I am a mom, I still feel weird steering a cart around the store, so it's usually not me at the helm. (Maybe one day I'll get over myself?) Anyway, I bring this up to say that as much as driving a shopping cart made me feel weird and old and mommish, sitting on a carousel animal with a kid--my kid--on my lap was the most mommish I've felt ever, and that includes being pregnant and giving birth and breastfeeding in public and crying over immunizations and carrying in my purse tiny socks and tiny sunglasses and tiny tupperware containers full of goldfish even on the days when I'm away from the baby. I'm a MOM, you guys. I'm some little...person's mom. How weird is that?)
(A few more pictures and a video here.)
Photo number two made my heart leap and the last one made my heart melt.
I just love you guys.
A merry go round would definitely rock the shopping cart as an officail "Mom" feeling. Shopping carts... (especially when piled with groceries that YOU have to pay for) are super lame.
Hee! I know that mom feeling. Oddly, it's not carting around the kid for me, either. It was YESTERDAY, when I was getting ready for a playdate and it was when I was frantically running around the house putting together the right sippy cup, and making sure I packed enough snack and diapers and how did this HAPPEN? I'm a mom. Who worries about SIPPY CUPS.
Simon's matching bored look is absolutely priceless. Incidentally, Sam gets that same look in her face when I take her down the slide at the park. The slide! What kid doesn't like the SLIDE! Mine. Mine does not find it at all entertaining, you boring, boring parents, you.
I hate pushing the cart, too, but it's embarrassingly because I think I'm too short, and I can't wield it without knocking into things. It's just so uncomfortable. I always (ALWAYS) make Mike push the cart.
I keep waiting for my "I'm a mom" moment. I had one when I was pregnant and the ER visits were both pretty darn close (but still somewhat surreal).
I always liked pushing the cart, in the same way that I liked playing dress-up and house. It was a game, and I still feel a little bit like I'm playing at being a grown-up when I push the cart full of groceries (for my husband and kids!) around the store.
Also? I knew I was getting used to being a mom when I found myself at the supermarket late at night, rocking a grocery cart absentmindedly. Just like you would a stroller, except I was ALONE.
Oh my god you're a MOM. I can't really believe it either. Does this mean I'm going to be a mom one day too? And if so, when I am, does it mean I can eat the goldfish in the tupperware myself when I'm hungry? Because like toddlers, I also 1. get hungry and cranky when I'm running errands and 2. like goldfish.
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