Broken eggs can't shatter happiness of parenthood.Byline: WRITE ON By JuLeah Willson For The Register-Guard Your children offer you many life lessons. For anyone out there still concerned about what others think of you - have a child. As I whip into the Trader Joe's parking lot, windows down and the Mickey Mouse theme song blasting from my speakers, I realize I've matured beyond the need for stranger validation. Strangers though, smile at me, because I know all the words. In the store, my toddler jumps from my arms and runs to the corner where they keep the mini carts. Toddler-sized carts are designed to occupy your child while you shop. Even if you have never shopped alongside a toddler with a mini cart, I am sure you can foresee the trouble. Think ahead; wear high-tops. Bananas are the first thing on my list. Jasper wants them in her cart. "I do myself," she says, pulling a bunch off the shelf. Bananas, like crystal, will break if thrown into a cart at high velocity. Broken bananas are very funny when you are 2 years old. Now I need milk - but wait, I am with a toddler, who has been distracted by ripe tomatoes. "We need," she tells me, as her hand grabs a tomato from the bottom of the pile. I am further than an arms' reach from her, and fail to get there in time. Six tomatoes fall to the floor. "Da go spat," she tells me. "Ut oh." Mentally adding two spat tomatoes to my list, I hear from the loudspeaker: "Clean up in produce." Tomatoes are as funny as bananas. As we round the corner, Jasper sees the snack lady is open for business and runs ahead. Snack lady, that's her real name, smiles at my child. Jasper is a favorite customer. Pasta, cookies and juice are on today's menu. The "thanks yous" are said and the cookies are gone with a speed that would impress the Cookie Monster. The small plate of pasta is put in Jasper's cart for "eat later" and the juice is consumed as we walk. Jasper will push her cart a few steps, stop and take a sip, then push her cart a few more steps. Push, sip, push, sip, until, "Ut oh, Mamma. My juice need napkin." We have been in the store now for 20 minutes, and we have four bananas in our cart. Children also teach you how to slow down and smell the roses. As I select milk for my cart, Jasper puts a bottle of water into hers. "Need new one," I hear her say, and glance down. Her bottle of water has fallen onto her pasta plate. Jasper doesn't want a pasta covered water bottle, so she puts it back on the shelf. I intervene with more napkins and deem the bottle clean enough to go in the cart. I cannot get it clean enough to go back on the shelf. With milk and eggs in my cart, bananas and water in Jasper's, we head for the check-out line. An older woman steps into the path of Jasper's cart and almost goes down, but my kid is a careful driver. The woman sees the close call and smiles down at my baby. She compliments Jasper's driving. Jasper says, "Tank you. 'Scuse me," and the woman melts. She declares Jasper to be the cutest, the brightest, the most delightful child she has ever seen. As a proud mamma, I think she is correct, but that much public praise is hard to take when you are 2 years old. Jasper leaves her cart and runs to my arms. Jasper tells me, after the woman has walked away, that she doesn't want to push her cart any more. She wants me to carry her. We transfer the bananas and water to my cart and return her cart to the corner. So, 40 minutes after our arrival, with milk, eggs, a bottle of water and four bananas, we get in line to pay. I take the food out of the cart and set it on a low shelf. Jasper likes to hand each item to the clerk herself. I pull out my wallet and slide my card. The clerk asks if I would like another dozen eggs. Wondering what prompted that question - I hadn't heard the crash - I look up to see another clerk headed our direction with a mop. I smile and nod yes. Yet another clerk runs to the back of the store while we wait. The father behind me struggles to hang on to his screaming toddler. She's the reason I didn't hear the eggs fall. We smile at each other. No words are needed. We all have more in common than you might first think; another lesson I have learned from my children. And as Jasper skips ahead to the door, I think about the many gifts she has given to me. An inefficient shopping trip is a small price to pay for a solid education in happiness. JuLeah Willson is a 36-year-old mother of two. To submit columns Mail your typed, double-spaced, 500- to 800-word manuscript to Write On, The Register-Guard, P.O. Box 10188, Eugene, OR 97440. Attach a cover letter with your age, address, phone number, occupation and a couple of sentences of biographical information. If you want a rejected manuscript returned, include a self-addressed, stamped envelope. There is no payment for a published column. |
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