If you’re standing in the grocery store line and you see plastic Halloween pumpkins for 99 cents, you’ll probably decide to pick up a little treat for your Bean.
And since the grocery store line is moving slower than a slug, you’ll probably go ahead and give the pumpkin to your Bean so he can entertain himself for a little while.
When you get out to the parking lot and you begin to unload your groceries, your Bean will still have the pumpkin but will suddenly decide he is done playing with it for now and so he will chunk it out the open car window where the pumpkin will roll up under your car.
And since you are on a budget and don’t want to waste even 99 cents, it will seem like the right thing to do to crawl on all fours up under your car to try to find the stupid pumpkin.
Only, because you are three months pregnant and already look like you’ve swallowed a watermelon or two, you won’t quite fit up underneath your car.Â Which is okay because the gosh darn pumpkin has rolled into that exact location that makes it impossible to reach from any side of the car.
So, you’ll get back on your feet and continue unloading your groceries while lecturing your 16-month-old son on the value of a dollar and the importance in not senselessly throwing away valuables.Â Like plastic 99 cent pumpkins.
And you’ll also notice the impatient elderly woman in the Buick waiting with her blinker on for your parking space.Â Not the four empty parking spaces around you.Â She only wants YOUR parking space.Â And she is drumming her fingertips on her steering wheel, indicating her frustration at how long it is taking you to crawl around up under your car and load your groceries.
Also, at this point your son will notice his new toy is missing and will begin wailing, “P’kin!Â P’kin!Â P’kin!”
When your groceries are loaded and your Bean is securely in his seat, still wailing, you’ll back out of the parking spot halfway with the intent of exposing the plastic pumpkin so that you can jump out and save your 99 cents.Â Only, you’ll hear an unexpected crunch.Â And then you’ll stop the car.Â Which will cause the ornery, elderly woman to begin laying on her horn.Â This will lead to your son raising his voice so that his pleas can be heard above the noise, “P’KIN!Â P’KIN!Â P’KIN!”
So, you’ll put the car in park and jump out, ignoring the old bat who is now yelling at you through her open window, and you’ll pick up the plastic 99 cent pumpkin and you’ll yell out over the screaming old lady and your wailing son, “KEEP YOUR PANTIES ON, LADY!Â YOU’RE THE ONE WHO WANTED TO WAIT FOR THIS EXACT PARKING SPOT!”
Then you’ll get back in your car and at the sight of the smashed pumpkin, your son will begin weeping uncontrollably and the only thing you’ll be able to understand is the occasional mutter of, “P’kin…P’kin…” in his little cries.
So, your heart will melt and your ears will become deaf to the multiple horns honking at you now for blocking the entire aisle in the Walmart parking lot and you will start popping the dented, bent pumpkin back into place before handing him to your inconsolable son who, upon having his “p’kin” back, will stop crying and whose eyes will light up and whose huge smile will spread across his face.
And then you’ll put your car in drive and you’ll finally pull out of the parking lot.Â And your son will think you are a super hero.
So, this afternoon I was laying on my couch taking a little break from unloading groceries and folding laundry.Â Bean had been playing in his room for a while and I took advantage of the quiet to just sit for a little bit.Â Then, as I’m laying there on the couch, Bean walks by on his way to the kitchen.Â Real nonchalant-like.
Only, he has a diaper on his head.
Like a hat.
Or, really more like a yamaka.
“Man, I hope that was a clean diaper,” I thought.
That’s when I got up and followed Bean into the kitchen, where he was dancing a little jig.Â All by himself.Â Just standing in the kitchen.
So, let’s recap.
Bean finds a clean diaper in his bedroom and puts it on his head.Â Then he deliberately walks across the house to the kitchen where he gets his groove on for about five minutes all by himself.
I found this video of Baby Bean when I was going through some old MC posts tonight.Â It made me smile.Â Then it made me cry.Â Then I ate a Twinkie.Â Then I smiled again because I remembered that in a couple months, I’ll get to do this all over again.
I love it when life does wonderful things like that.
So, tonight Chris is working late like he has been for the past few days.Â That meant that when Bean went to bed at 7:30, it was quiet in the house.Â Quiet enough that I started to get a little sleepy.Â And as I was sitting on the couch trying to will myself awake, I thought, “Why?Â Why do I have to stay awake?Â If I want to go to bed, then I’m going to bed!”
So, I went to bed.
But at the last minute I remembered you guys and decided to bring my laptop with me.Â Which means I am currently blogging to you right now from the cozy comfort of my fluffy bed at 8:00pm.
And I feel pretty good about that, actually.
Wanna know my favorite part of this bedroom? It has a remote control for the ceiling fan. At first, I was like, “Wow, that is lazy.” But now I’m more like, “Wow, that’s the GREATEST INVENTION EVER! GIVE THAT CREATIVE INVENTIVE GENIUS WHO CREATED THIS THING A NOBEL PEACE PRIZE!”
Let’s say it’s the middle of the night and I wake up hot as Hades (which happens a LOT), now I don’t have to crawl out of bed, waving my arms around until I find the switch on the fan. Instead, I can just grab my remote and turn up the speed on the fan. BRILLIANT!
Remote controls and any other tool in life that allows you to be more comfortable while not actually having to move is a big deal during pregnancy. Even though I’m not too big right now, I can already see how this is going to change my pregnancy in the 8th and 9th months. Hot flashes? Grab the remote! Night sweats? Grab the remote! Chills? Grab the remote!
Speaking of pregnancy bellies… (we were speaking of those, right?) Check out the New Guy. He’s popping right on out of there, isn’t he? Sort of looks like I swallowed a basketball. Which is too cute. But in about four months it’s going to look like I ate an entire basketball team. And in two months after that, it’ll look like I ate the cheerleaders, too. So, cute now is ENORMOUS later. Just keep that in mind.
And check out what’s on my nightstand right now…
During my first pregnancy, this was my survival guide. This time around, it’s more like a scrapbook. A photo album. A memory box. Each chapter I read makes me smile and giggle and remember being pregnant with Bean and then I pat my big ol’ belly and eat another Twinkie.
Pregnancy does have it’s perks.
It is now officially 8:30pm. Way past New Guy’s bedtime. I’m signing off and heading to bed.
As soon as I finish this Twinkie.