Retail Randomness

So before I went to Oakbrook I was looking at coats. One of the ones I liked was this Tahari Wool Blend coat. I like the wide collar. And even though I usually hate ruffles, I think that it makes this coat more feminine than you're usual "dress/work" coat. It's listed at $198 at Nordstroms.com -- without any sales. :-(

After work today, I went to pick up a pair of shoes I bought in the Macy's pre-sale on Monday. I wandered through the coats, just to peak and was shocked to find the coat above with a giant 40 percent off sign. Sweet!

I was so excited to try it on, and it was very cute. But I was sad that I didn't love it. Maybe the cheaper price would sway me!

And then I looked at the tag -- $420! Wait, what?!?

And sure enough, at the Macy's web site, it lists the retail price of the coat as $420 -- but it's on sale for that 40 percent off for $273.

Huh? Yeah, so I put the coat back, picked up my shoes and moved on. But I thought reason 1 for comparison shopping...

Bachrach Closing at the Mall

Tomorrow I have to run out and pick up MacTroll's suit. He had to buy one for the wedding he's in over 4th of July weekend. It turned out to be an okay expense because of the pretty nice discounts he got at the Bachrach at the Mall. The receipt says that the store is going out of business. Currently everything is 20 percent off. So, if you've got a guy with "suit" needs -- now might be a good time to take advantage of any discounts.

That poor mall. It gets something (J.Jill, Ann Taylor Loft, Coldwater Creek, Forever 21) and always loses something (Lane Bryant, Starbucks, Carmel Corn, Bachrach...)

Ruffles suck

I've been walking around with this discount card to Banana Republic/GAP/Old Navy/Piperlime in my wallet since December. So today, MacTroll and I went to the mall to see if we could use it. He needs a black suit for a wedding. I need shirts that don't show the world my breasts when I lean down to pick up my kid or dig my garden. I've apparently lost enough weight that this has become a problem. 

So I went to all the stores. I even went to Ann Taylor loft to check the sales rack. Alas, everything was either sheer (to play up the lacy cami that doesn't look sexy on anyone over the age of 25) or had ruffles and bows everywhere. 

Do I look like the kind of person who wears ruffles and bows? 

Troll Feet

Last Wednesday, we go to pick up X-man at school and Ms. Holly, his teacher, announces that X-man sat on the potty at EVERY diaper change that day (they ask him if he wants to and up until now he's always said no).

During one of the potty trips, he managed to sit on the potty and forget to aim his penis down. X-man is a super sonic pee-r. Really, it's one of his super powers, so he managed to take out his pants and get a bunch of it all over the floor. (I promise I'll give both of his teachers good gifts at the holidays!) 

We took in extra pants again on Thursday morning. Only to return to get him before the CARE Illini Marching Band meet up to find our boy in all of his spare clothes and a pretty new pair of white shoes with butterflies on them from the "extra shoe bin." That day, he'd managed to take out all of his clothes and his shoes during one of the potty stops on Thursday. 

We had been planning on having a kids clothing swap at our house on Saturday -- until Friday when we took X-man to the doctor due to a cough and a running nose and found out that he (and later I) would have an upper respiratory infection.

Then on Sunday, I was supposed to stop by a friend's and hang out and pick up her son's hand-me down shoes (which will still be helpful as their 1/2 size bigger than what X wears right now). But I got sick... and I don't spread germs on purpose. So I stayed home.

Today, two pairs of shoes came from Amazon.com, where I get free shipping. Carbon hounds back off, because here's the deal -- My kid has MacTroll's feet. 

MacTroll is a 7.5 EEEE. Yes, it's possible. His feet are almost as wide as they are long. He has to wear a shoe two sizes too long to fit him across the width. It's apparently a Troll family trait. And although X-man missed out on the other Troll traits like the big frontal lobe, the mono brow and attached ear lobes -- he did get the feet, the short legs with long torso, the blonde hair and the randomly large, round head.

So, I can't just run to Target and plop down $7 on cheap tennis shoes because there's no way to cram a 9 1/2 XW toddler foot into a M shoe. For example, for his winter boots I had to buy a size 11 to fit his foot with socks on, because most kids winter boots don't come in XW sizes. 

Who knew that getting my kid shoes was always going to require me to go out of town or to the internet to get them. And the selection at Andy's (is it closed yet?) and the Stride Rite in Tuscola on XW are both pretty dismal. 

Heart stoppage

Yeah so remember a few days ago when I blogged about the difficulties of going to the store with children.

It happened again today, and right now I want to shout out to the Seasoned and Should be Decorated Mom with the two boys in the luggage/backpack area of the ChampaignTarget around 10 a.m. today -- you are an awesome Mom. You are hardcore rockin' and I am going to remember you and your boys today for the next 50 years of X-man's life.

I was checking out the bikes in Target because it turns out that the difference between Quigs and me is about 3-4 inches of my long ass legs, so her free bike was a bit hard for me to pedal and I had to return it to the Quig family garage. Anyway, I was testing out the 26" hybrid frames when I looked across the store and saw a mom and her two boys picking out bags that roll either for a trip or for school.

The boys were ages 5 and 7 (roughly going into kindergarten and 2nd grade). The older boy picked out a blue wheelie one, instantly. The little brother picked out a pink one. His mother told him to put it back. He threw a fit because pink was, apparently, his favorite color.

The older brother tried to argue in favor of his brother (definite 2 kids against parent moment). Seasoned Mom calmly said, "He can't have that bag for two reasons. 1) It's too expensive, and 2) He changes his favorite color every day--and I want these bags to last-- and next year he's not going to want it. 

I read into this because she knows what I know, and I'm pretty sure we both think it sucks -- that some pissy little cretan is gonna make fun of her son for having a pink bag at school and he's going to come home in tears and want a new one, so she's heading it off at the pass. Even though, I'm pretty sure she was fine with a boy having a pink bag cause she didn't make a fuss about it NOR did she do what I've heard other parents do, "Only girls can wear pink."

The response was the younger child screaming, "I HATE YOU."

That got my full attention. And it sent a shiver down my spine. I have always known that at some point my kid is going to say that to me. This kid said it with such anger and vengeance that it made my blood run cold.

Was she gonna snap? Was she going to cry? Would she spank him? Grab the fatty part of his arm and drag him from the store? Was she going to try to "reason" with him? Me, myself and I, the inquiring junior mom from Savoy wanted to know. How does one respond to this kind of denial, betrayal and disrespect -- in public with an audience, no less.

Seasoned Mom calmly put the bag back and told him to choose another one, so they could get moving. She didn't miss a beat. It was like it hadn't happened. She didn't flip out. Her lip didn't quiver. She didn't freak out that I was staring from across the aisle like a moron. Clearly, she had gone through such an act before (probably with kid number 1). It was like the kid hadn't taken a baseball bat to her heart. 

Son number 2 stood for a while staring at the bags. Then he picked a bag like his brothers, and they carried them away.

In the parking lot, I wanted to run over and say, "Hey Seasoned Mom, You're awesome. Don't let the little ones grind you down. You taught me that I too can have patience and can mother through the worst of the words that are to come."

But instead, I just went to my car and put the seat down so I could take my new Schwinn road bike home (a couple of models are on sale).

Parenting is hard work. You have to have a schedule. You have to have no fear. And you have to be able to adapt to everything, because your kids don't give a shit about the schedule. You're the chef. The drill instructor. The savior. The teacher. The nurse. The therapist. The teacher. You're so much to your child that it's impossible to get it all right. -- Unless you don't even bother to show up (literally or figuratively) in the first place. But that's a different blog, altogether.

There are times when X-man is going to hate me. Sometimes I think he already does when he throws tantrums about going inside at night or having to wear a bike helmet or take a bath. He could so easily say those words. 

But he doesn't. It's probably because he doesn't know them yet. 

But pretty soon, I'll be that lady in Target. 

Mark my words.

I just hope I have her poise and patience then, because I definitely don't have it now.