Dear Beth,
Yesterday I had this great idea. Chase was fed, the weather was crappy, and we had been watching movies all morning, so when Sean got home from work I suggested we could go to Home Depot for dirt and marigolds. Family time, yay! So the five of us all piled into the van {did I tell you I drive a mini van now??? bought it in Sept.--i cried for two weeks about it, and then I realized it was the greatest car ever invented and made my peace with it}. So we headed off to the "man store." It was rainy, windy, and cold. Gotta love Memorial Day weekend in Utah. I don't know why I make plans to do things over this holiday here, because it's always cold, and it's always raining. Anyway, so we all run into the man store, the kids in their cute rain coats and Chase all covered up, and we convince Max to ride in the cart and Brennan to go for a ride on the end. We find the dirt for clay that I bought last year, and then as we go to start loading it onto our long flat cart we remember that we left the double Bob in the back of the van. No room for dirt. So I send Sean home to ditch the stroller, and the kids and I decide to go look at fridges and Father's Day gifts. Did I mention Brennan has been whining the ENTIRE time? Well, he was. The really annoying crying whining. My least favorite part of parenting. Really, I'd rather clean up puke than listen to annoying crying whining, which says a lot because I don't do puke. Sean does puke. I can do everything but puke, but I would rather put a close pin on my nose and clean up puke than listen to crying whining. It's the smell and the consistency together that gets me. Barf! {pun intended}. So we wander through the store. Brennan takes off his spiderman rain boots THREE times, rams the cart with Max and Chase into two different displays while I try to talk to a guy about a Father's Day gift I want to get Sean, and then decides that sliding on his belly all over the floor would be fun. Sean finally came back and wondered why I didn't answer my phone--I may have rolled my eyes and sighed. Not in a "i'm annoyed with you" way, just in a "this was my great idea and it was a bad one" way. So we make our way back to the clay dirt, and the flat cart was still there {i was happily shocked}, and I told Sean I wanted ten bags. We are now standing in the rain and wind b/c the dirt isn't covered by the outdoor cover at all. Brennan is crying whining a lot louder now, but I was tuning him out pretty well. Max was chattering to herself, and Chase was asleep. After about 6 bags I told him that was enough b/c I also wanted some dirt for the flower beds. The tree roots are starting to show on pirate island, and I've just been thinking some dirt would help. So he loaded 6 more bags of tree/shrub dirt {there are far too many different kinds of dirt you can choose between at Home Depot}, and then we hunted down the marigolds. I wish you were here this year to help me weed and rototill again. Last year you were pregnant with Bear, and I kept forgetting that you were pregnant in the hot sun weeding with me b/c you were such a trooper. While we were loading our third cart with marigolds {we need one cart just for kids now}, someone tried to put back our dirt in our flat cart. Sean got the dirt back, I took forever picking out the best looking marigolds with the roundest and most yellow balls, and we charged to the checkout line in the gardening section. Brennan is still crying whining, but is now trying to push the cart with Max and Chase, but Max only wants Sean to push her so she is screaming in a really hitch pitch and yelling "no! no!" at Brennan and shaking her finger at him. The young guy checking us out says he doesn't do this register very often, rings us up, I hear the total and gasp, and we head for the car. On the way to the car I decide we are returning all of the tree/shrub dirt b/c there is no way that dirt should cost that much, and by the time we get to the car I ask to see the receipt. The young guy who doesn't do the garden register very much charged us $111.00 for marigolds. He rung up 28 instead of 8. I say "thank goodness" really loud and tell Sean we can keep all of the dirt, and head back to get a refund with the marigolds in tow. The young guy says he can't help me at his register, so I find the returns register at the front and they refund me $84 and 84 cents. I only remember that because it was the exact same number, and 8 is my favorite number. It's still raining and is more windy now. The wind knocks all of my marigolds over in the cart as I'm walking back to the van. When I am about 4 cars away from the van Sean starts pulling out to go look for me, but I'm standing there waving my arms and yelling "Sean," but he doesn't hear me. I'm really cold and starting to whine myself, chasing Sean down with my cart full of marigolds that are all laying on their sides in my cart. He finally sees me, we load them all in, I declare that my idea was awful {all kids are crying whining in the car now except for Chase b/c he is awesome}, and Sean laughs and tells me it was a great idea and it was fun {and he was serious b/c he has a good sense of humor that way--bless him}. We get home and unload all of the dirt and marigolds on the side of the house {it's still raining and more windy than ever}, and Brennan is crying to be let out of his car seat. He finally gives up on us letting him out and tries to get out himself, but ends up choking himself b/c he couldn't undo the top buckle of the seat belt and tried to slip out that way. So now he's crying and gaging himself, Max is pulling him by the hood of his raincoat, he's screaming louder claiming that Max is the one choking him, Chase is looking at me like "what is going on" while sucking on his binky, and Sean and I just start laughing. We surrender to it all, strip off everyone's wet coats and rain boots, put Chase in his bassinet, and tell the kids they can watch movies for the rest of the day. And that was how my great idea for Saturday went:) And really, I've gotta say, I absolutely love my crazy life and the sense of humor I have about it, but please no more crying whining. Tomorrow we weed, rototill, and plant! Hopefully something will grow before August.
Please tell me a good story from your crazy life, as I know all mother's with young children have them. I miss you tons, and sorry for skype calling you at 1am. I'm not good with Skype, and I'm even worse with time changes.
Love,
Emily
