Tonight offered me a rare opportunity in which internal and external circumstances allowed me to go to the mall and shop by myself and for myself. As other parents know, this is an opportunity that may come along once every several months. I decide that I need an efficient plan, so I commit to explore one clearance section of one outdoor adventure-type store. This idea seems reasonable, given that we have decided to take this little family expedition on a school night. The plan is that Daddy and the girls will wander around the store or the mall while I shop. I figure I have about forty-five minutes to get through (I mean, shop) the racks and (god forbid) try on anything I might like.
This is how it goes. Take five minutes or so to quickly scan the area and automatically migrate to the children's section. Pull self away to look for women's clothes. Realize what month it is and decide that spring clothes are probably in order. Also realize that I don't know what size I wear; since the second pregnancy I am smaller on the bottom than I used to be and bigger on the top than I used to be. Grab two or three pair of shorts and some capris (both are easier to fit) and head to the girls' dressing room. Apparently there is no women's fitting room on this floor. Try them all on and note that none fit. Realize that being optimistic wasn't such a good idea. Feel like crap and want to terminate shopping trip, except that then I not only have no clothes, but also have wasted a good chunk of non-parenting time.
Part 2: Decide to suck it up and go upstairs to the full-retail women's section. Realize that I can't afford to be frugal, given the limitations of my situation. I admit that I no longer have the luxury of examining items for price or style, so I strategically traverse the section within five minutes, picking up almost every size 16 capri's and shorts I can find. (I deliberately share this number because although I am not proud that my body is this size, I am also tired of silently beating myself up for it.) The nice sales lady with the over-bleached hair and over-powdered face and smeared lipstick eyes me and offers to set up a fitting room. I am grateful that there is no limit to the number of items I can bring in and try on.
Now that I have allegedly identified the proper size, I realize that I am really pushing my luck in taking a second trip to the fitting room. I try on about half of the items and discover that some actually fit me properly. I am momentarily relieved and pleased. Then, the phone rings: "Where are you?"
I hesitate to identify my location, because I know that my temporary respite is over. In a moment, I hear E's voice outside, saying "Mommmmmy.....where are you?" Gratefully, she remains in fairly good spirits; Miss K, on the other hand, is completely overstimulated. Her eyes are wide and her arms and legs are frenetically darting all over. I pick her up, give B the clothes, and head over to the cashier counter. K's body has started to relax and E has geared up. "I NEED SNACK RIGHT NOW," she announces. I bribe her with a chocolate-covered graham treat that sits conveniently next to the registers.
Getting back to the car proves fairly uneventful, which surprises me. It's now 8:30 pm, the toddler is waiting for chocolate, Daddy is carrying my purchases and two fishing rods, and I am carrying the infant and pushing her stroller. On the way home. we stop at the drive-thru at "Old McDonald's" and actually forgo the french fries.
Just before bed, I again try on the clothes. Part of me can't believe I have had some retail success. What do I find? THEY ARE TOO BIG. What?? They fit in the store, I swear. Could it be that my zealousness and speed affected my sight? I realize that it doesn't matter - despite the whole process tonight, it was all still too easy. Maybe if one or both of the kids had a major meltdown I somehow would have had better results with the clothes. That's how my parenting/clothes shopping karma works. I don't know why.
