Adventure at Aldi

I did two new things today.

One - I took both kids to the pool by myself (uhh...won't be doing again anytime soon if I can avoid it...).  And, two -  I went grocery shopping at Aldi (also with both kids).

If you're not familiar with Aldi, it's a discount grocery store.  I have never lived near one before, but urban legend has it that you can save a lot of money by shopping at Aldi.  So when one opened near us a few months ago, I thought, "Oh, yay, another perk to city living...I will have to try it out!"

But then I found Sprout's, and I already have a fancy Kroger nearby and my favorite grocery store ever, Central Market, is just a short drive away - so I never did make it to Aldi.

Which is just as well, really.  New grocery stores stress me out.  I can never find what I'm looking for, and I always load up the cart with tons of junk and store-brand treats I've never seen before because my impulses are on high alert (being in a new store and all!), at the same time managing to leave without ever finding the string cheese or the apple juice I was there to buy in the first place.

On Tuesday, as I was leafing through the junk mail and getting ready to toss it out, I saw the weekly ad for Aldi.  Three pounds of onions for $.75!  Giant zucchinis for $.25!  Strawberries for $1!  And suddenly I realized I could no longer avoid Aldi.  I knew that I must have those onions.

So this morning I loaded up the kids, returned a late library book, popped into Target to buy a birthday present for Charles, and then headed to Aldi.

I put Claire in the Ergo, grabbed my purse, and pulled Jack towards the shopping carts.

OK, here's where things start to go downhill.

The shopping carts were all chained together.  Like, in a row...with chains...and after trying (unsuccessfully) to pull them apart, I finally realized that I needed a quarter to do so!  That's right - they have little quarter slots, and once you deposit your money, the chain unbuckles and you are free to use a cart.

This threw me for a complete loop.  I pulled Jack back to the car.  I was not going to PAY to use a shopping cart!  Blasphemy!

But as I was preparing to load the kids back up, I thought about those damn onions.  $.75!  I would save much more than a quarter on those alone...and who knew what other surprise deals the store had to offer me?

So, I dug a quarter out of my purse and put it in the slot.  The chain dropped from the cart in front of mine.  The quarter stayed partially inserted (I tried to pull it back out, but no luck).

And into Aldi we went.

Yes, there were onions for $.75.  And generic Ritz crackers for $1.39, macaroni and cheese for $.39, lunch meat on sale for $1.

I loaded up the cart.

One a side note, I felt a little uneasy about my shopping choices.  I've been trying really, really hard to eat more plants and fewer animal products.  The bulk of our shopping comes from the produce section, and we rarely frequent the inner aisles of any grocery store.  This time, the entire store was the "inner aisles" and the produce section - which we went a little crazy in - was just a teensy little corner of the store.

Our cart was so full when I went to check out that Jack asked me who was going to help him out, because he was stuck under the bananas and potatoes (a big bag for $.99, HOLLA!).

The cashier was ridiculously fast.  I couldn't empty the cart fast enough, and he was working alone.  The second our cart was empty, he had already filled another one with all of our groceries.

Total bill?

$70.  BOOM.

As I was pushing the cart out, I noticed a long, wide shelf that ran along the back of the store, behind the cashiers.  "That's weird," I thought.  I could not for the life of me figure out what it was for.

It's hot in Texas, and today was no exception.  The very short walk to the car had us all sweating and Jack was in rare form.  "I'm hot!  I'm hot, Mommy...Mommy, I'm hot, I'm hooooooooot, MOMMY I'm hot, it's hot out, Mommy..." etc. etc.

"OK, Jack!  Just let me unload the groceries and we'll go home!"

I popped the trunk, and at this point, I realized something was amiss.

There were no bags full of groceries in my cart.  Just groceries.

In my haste to get the kids out of the store and to the car, I hadn't even noticed that the reason the cashier was so freaking speedy was because he wasn't bagging my groceries.  He was just putting them into another cart.

O-M-G.

I looked in my trunk.  Two floaties from our day at the pool, a bag full of softball equipment from Charles' softball league, and my big (and dirty) saddle and bridle that we had brought home from my mom's place were all stuffed in the trunk.  I had been planning on shoving the bags in around all of this stuff, but that wasn't going to happen because there were no bags.

I stood there for awhile, contemplating my next move, Jack's relentless chant of "I'm hot" pushing me to make a decision.  Go back in the store and ask for bags (did they even have bags...)?  Or just throw everything in the trunk and make Charles help unload when we got home?

And so, I started tossing groceries in one-by-freaking-one.  Some frozen blueberries in the inner tube, a cucumber on top of a stirrup, some eggs under the baseball glove.

Until the trunk was full.

During this time, a friendly soul saw me and, clearly noticing an Aldi newbie from a mile away, came to offer her assistance.  She insisted she had made this same mistake her first trip, and informed me that by having customers bring bags from home, the store was able to keep costs down.  She also taught me the secret of the shopping carts.  The quarter that was half-in/half-out of the slot would be returned to me when I re-chained the cart to the other shopping carts.  But don't bother, she said - here's a quarter, and I'll just take your cart from you!  And just like that, the Aldi Angel saved me the hassle of pushing the cart and dragging Jack across a hot parking lot to wrestle with the shopping cart return.

When I got home, I told Charles to come out and help me unload the groceries.  They looked like this:

Hopefully we got them all out.

As Claire was nursing to sleep later in the day, I googled Aldi to find out what the heck kind of establishment I had been to.  They have a whole section about shopping there, which would have been helpful and explained a few things, but who thinks to see if a grocery store has instructions for shopping before going shopping, right?

It turns out that they have require a quarter to get a cart because you'll return the cart to get your quarter back - which keeps the parking lot cart-free and also reduces the need for an employee to be collecting carts.  They don't offer bags to keep costs down - and those giant shelves on the back of the store are where customers are supposed to bag their own groceries.  Doh!  If only I had known.  Or realized that the cashier wasn't bagging them for me (seriously, how did I miss that??).

But two kids in a grocery store will fry even the sharpest of brains, and I'm afraid mine is far from sharp!

So the lesson here, kids, is this - go to Aldi, get a great deal on some onions, and take your own shopping bags!

Have you ever shopped at an Aldi?  Did you know to bring your own bags (and a quarter) or did you learn the hard way, too?

Party at Chuck E. Cheese's - a Recap and a Lesson Learned

Do you see this creepy, child-sized, helium-filled rat?

The rat balloon and a cup of about 100 tokens (which spilled in the diaper bag and are mostly still floating around in there, yay) are all we have left to remind us of the chaos that was Jack's 3rd Birthday Party.

Yesterday Charles asked me if I would have another party at Chuck E. Cheese.  The answer was a quick and loud "NO."

But not for the reasons you might think.

It all turned out okay and we didn't have to clean or provide any food - but - it was a mistake to have a party at a crowded, kid-filled location for a kid who doesn't like...kids.

Like all three-year-olds (I assume), Jack is still working on his social skills.  He is easily overstimulated and overwhelmed and trying to find his spot in this world.  As a result, he's kind of unpleasant around new kids  (actually, make that pretty much any kid who goes near his toys or who he perceives as a threat, and he's like America on defense...everyone's a threat).  He gets a little worried, thinking all of the children on this planet are out to get his toys, and truth be told it can all be a little exhausting.

How many times in one day can I say, "Don't worry about other people," "Be nice!" and "They aren't going to get your toys/take your cake pop/touch our car!"

But this is nothing new.  I *know* this.  And yet, we still chose to have his party at Chuck E. Cheese's (where a kid can be a kid!).

I already explained my logic for having the party at another location.  What I didn't touch on was some random need (of mine) to accommodate everyone else...making sure the kids would have a good time, no one would be left out, etc.  What I missed in that equation was my own child's needs.

They say (I don't know who, exactly, "they" are, but I've seen this advice in more than one place) that you should invite one kid per year.  So in this case, Jack was turning three - so we should have invited three kids.  Charles suggested this.  I turned him down.

In hindsight, a little party with cupcakes (and no presents) with the neighborhood kids would have been perfect.  And then, we could do it again next weekend with family.  Small, relaxed get-togethers that would have been in Jack's comfort zone and that he might have actually enjoyed.  He says he had fun at Chuck E. Cheese's, but that's up for debate.  Between trying to hit strange children and yelling at his party guests to stay away from him presents, he was pretty on-edge.  And you can only imagine how I felt about all of that...

So, while it was fun to see everyone and nice to have the food/decorations/party favors all taken care of (and shout out to Chuck E. Cheese's party organizers here, they did an amazing job and I can only hope the tip we left was big enough to thank them for their hard work!), I would not do this again.  Not for a three-year-old still working on his social skills, anyway.  For a kid between the ages of 5-7 I think it would be a big fat WIN (and it was a huge hit with the party guests who were old enough to know the real value of tokens and tickets!).

Lesson learned...birthdays are about the person celebrating the birthday.  Always.  Next time, Jack gets an age-and-personality-appropriate party (actually, make that an age-and-personality-appropriate get-together...I'm all partied out).

Sometimes You Need What You Thought You Didn't Want (how's that for insightful)

So, about three months ago I was very pregnant and trying to get out of a scorpion-infested house and into a new house before the baby was born.

Our house hadn't sold, we didn't have a new house picked out, and I wasn't getting any less pregnant.

I blame it on hormones now (what reasonable person would be this psycho?), but at the time my head could not wrap itself around the possibility that I might be having the baby while living in that house and there might not be a damn thing I could do about it.  

I was convinced (CONVINCED!) that we would be moving before the baby was born and I would not have to move with a newborn and a toddler who was just dipping his chubby little toddler toes into the waters of the Terrible Twos (he has since fully submerged).  Nope.  It was Not. Going. To Happen.

Ha!  Ha. Ha. Ha.

I told anyone who would listen that the baby was going to wait until we moved and that her first house would be our new house.  This I told as our house went under contract after six months on the market, fell out of escrow a month before my due date, went back into contract with another buyer and then all forward moving progress came to a screeching halt as all of our small town banks, surveyors, appraisers and title offices tried to coordinate things like how send emails of pictures of the house taken with a 12-year-old digital camera that required floppy discs and how to deliver documents from one department of the bank to another department that was IN THE SAME BUILDING but required someone to get out of their chair and actually walk it to someone on another floor.   

So you see, I was thinking positively.  Or more accurately, I was in complete and total denial.

But then one day I left denial behind.  And I cried.  And cried.  And realized that I likely *was* going to have this baby while we were in that house.  

Once I came to grips with this (and literally, one day I just woke up and had accepted my fate), I felt the weight lift off of my shoulders.  I felt calmer, more accepting and receptive to the daily setbacks, and ready for the baby to make her appearance.

We set up everything we'd need for her at home (I had most of it packed up because, you know, we were moving and she was going to be born after we moved, right??) and I literally kicked my feet up and caught up on Toddlers & Tiaras and Real Housewives of Orange County.  

The baby came, and guess what?  

I was So. Freaking. Happy to be in that house.

When it was time to go to the Birthing Center, I called my mom and she drove right over to stay with Jack.  Although he was living in what looked like a UPS shipping center, Jack was at a home he was familiar with (as if having a new baby sister wasn't a big enough change).  The next day, my Mother-in-Law came over and took Jack.  My mom and my MIL both kept food coming and entertained Jack while Charles continued with packing and making arrangements for the big move.  My mom would hold Claire while I showered.  We could take the kids just down the road to spend time with their 95-year-old great grandmother who might not have met Claire for weeks if we were in our new house (because who wants to pack up a little baby and toddler and drive over an hour if you don't have to - not me!). When Jack had to go to the ER the day after Claire was born to have his tummy x-rayed (he's fine, and that day is another story altogether), my MIL was able to go with Charles and help with Jack. Did I mention we had lots of help with Jack?

The week before our move there were a lot of loose ends to be tied up and Charles was extremely busy with everything.  With all of the help we had just down the road, I was able to concentrate on the new baby and rest.

When Claire was 6 days old, we moved (and for the record, moving day was a lot more exhausting than the day she was born).  Charles drove and I sat in the back with Claire.  Jack was with my mom; they were coming up later, after the movers had unloaded everything.  Charles and I were talking about everything that had been happening and we were musing over the fact that not only had everything turned out fine, but also that it worked out really, really well to be in the in that house those first few days.  The help from our moms was amazing.  In my head, I hadn't wanted it, didn't need it, would be fine without it.  In reality, it turned out to be a godsend.  

It was during this drive (which took forever, as we were in evening traffic and had to pull over once so I could nurse the baby) when I had one of those "Aha!" light bulb moments.  I realized that what I needed turned out to be exactly what I thought I didn't want.  

Another of life's lessons...learned.