Marketing Genius Targets Suburban Mother, Scores Direct Hit

We gave Trombone a copy of Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day for Christmas. It’s a bit wordy but he gets the gist and has asked to hear it a few times. I was hoping it would help his emotional language develop, to replace the growling and pinching and knocking over of Fresco that he currently resorts to when expressing himself.

But this entry is not about Trombone. I just mention Alexander because I fully acknowledge that this entry does have a bit of the old Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad flavour to it.

This morning I was determined to go for a walk. Outside. With my kids. Because they could tell that I really wanted this, they put roadblocks in my way. Poopy diapers. (Trombone) Falling into tables. (Fresco) Screaming fits. (both) “But I wanna play with my kiiiiiitchennnnnnn.” Etc. I did not care. Eventually, at 10:15, we left the house.

You can tell I haven’t been out of the house with the buggy for nearly a month because I used to be out of the house at 9:15 at the latest. Am seriously out of practise because of the snow / ice / slush / snow.

Surely, I thought, after three days of rain, the sidewalks will be passable.

Optimistic, much?

Our own backyard was misleadingly clear. When I got out of the gate and was halfway up the middle of the road because the sidewalk wasn’t even findable, let alone passable, I got buttonholed by the postie who proceeded to bitch about how she was going to sue our building for not salting the walk and then refuse to deliver the mail until the sidewalk was clear. I explained it wasn’t my building, just my gate, and that I totally agreed with her. She proceeded to attack the next person who came out of the building, a little old lady with a cane. Stay classy Canada Post.

We continued on the road, dodging cars going well above 50 in a 30 zone, found one sidewalk that was clear and then hit one that was solid ice. Almost a whole block of solid ice. Tracing back the weather layers, that means it hadn’t been shoveled or salted in 2 weeks. I thought about waiting for an old person with a cane to come out so I could yell at him / her but instead I wrote a note and tucked it in the doorway of the apartment building whose responsibility it was.

Based on that 2 block experiment, I decided today would not be the day I tried to do a “big” walk up town so we went to our local Safeway. The minute we got inside, Fresco started wailing. Wailing, wailing, wailing. Why, I do not know. I tracked down three items we needed and then had to stop in the middle of the baby isle to take him out and put him in the carrier on my chest because he would not stop wailing. While I did this, Trombone nattering on about crackers and cookies and chocolate and things he would like to eat, I glanced over my shoulder and I saw it. The solution to all my problems.

Happy Time Shower Cream with Caring Bamboo.

(oh yes, please make sure to love the post partum fringe on my forehead.)

Our return trip was much more successful; I got a cup of coffee, found an alternate route to our home that is almost completely clear, which means later we can go for another walk to the liquor store AND after an admittedly rocky couple of hours (ie: I am just now drinking said coffee,) the children are both napping at the same time.

You know what that means? I don’t even have to USE the Happy Time Shower Cream with Caring Bamboo. I just have to carry it around with me and it makes the Happy Time Happen!