Saturday, August 18, 2012
Dear Blogging Seed
Dear Blogging Seed,
You were always there. Deep within me, waiting for the best time to sprout and come to life in my world. You were planted in April 2009 as this following piece was first written after a trip to Target. Yes, a trip with a story that I just had to put into words and share with my mommy friends on Facebook. So, from the vault, I dig you out to share again, here and now, unedited from original copy except for paragraph spacing. You were titled 'Lost' in Mommyhood. (Dear Son had just turned two at the time.)
There are things you mentally prepare yourself for before you become a mommy: the sleep deprivation, the messes that come with children, the occasional temper tantrums. Then there are things that get lumped into the “I’ll-cross-that-bridge-when-I-get-to-it” group. These are the things that make you curse whatever comes to your mind at the moment, but look back with a nostalgic “been-there-done-that” when talking to other moms or soon-to-be moms.
Today, we went shopping at Target despite the annoying rain. Some things we needed couldn’t wait until the weekend (cat litter was one, and the stench made me go out).
DS was wearing his new Crocs that were pretty loose on him. I kept an eye out for them the entire time we were at the store. As he flung his feet around in the cart, I had to pick up a shoe here and there several times for him.
We braved the rain to the car, and as I proceeded to put DS in his car seat, I realized that one of the Crocs is missing. I unloaded the cart, and there was no left shoe to be found. All I could think of was OMG. What am I going to do with one shoe? Of course I’d have to go back and look for the other one. For one moment I thought about leaving DS in the car, as he was already strapped in, while I would run back and look down the check out aisle.
But then, of course, I knew better than that, so I take him back out, shoeless (I was not about to lose another shoe), and we go back to the store. No shoe at the Customer Service desk, and no shoe at the check out aisle. No shopping carts around me, either, so I fast walk with a 27 pound shoeless toddler in tow, back tracking the way I shopped the store.
Now, my mind is racing with the events of what happened just ten minutes ago as if you pressed the rewind button on the DVR. It suddenly occurred to me that the shoe could have fallen under the car as I put DS in the car. Of course, I was at the VERY back of the store when that thought entered my head.
Walking back to the front, at least I was met with very sympathetic looks from the lady behind the customer service desk as well as the check out clerk. By the time we exited the store, the rain was coming down even harder, but I was drenched not with rain, but my own sweat.
I approached the car and there was a little blue clog sandal right behind the back wheel. I didn’t know if I wanted to cry or laugh.
This totally reminded me of the incident that happened a few months ago at Costco. DS was very attached to a toy cell phone. He took it to bed and everywhere we went. I was so fearful of losing that phone that I went on ebay and bought the exact same one as it was already discontinued from the stores.
After shopping at Costco, I loaded the car and put DS in his car seat, and I realized that his phone was nowhere to be found. I know I gave it to him as I unbuckled him to get him out of the car. Then I had no recollection of the phone, which is very unlike me; I am usually very good at keeping track of these things. I was furious that I would have to actually use the ‘backup’ just two days after possessing it.
In a panic, I take DS back to the store, put him in a shopping cart, and begin to walk through the entire store to look for that darn phone. Costco is, after all, a warehouse, and it took a good 10 minutes to even walk through the entire place, all the while thinking I’m going to get home late and miss Dear Daughter’s school bus and how she’s going to panic that no one is home.
Nearing the exit, I was about to give up and whip out the new phone for him, and then I realized that I went to the customer service counter first to make a return. There, he was playing with the credit card swiper thingy, because he can’t see one without pushing the buttons on it at least once. Sure enough, the phone was sitting right next to the swiper thingy.
A huge sigh of relief exited my chest, and the world is all good again. DS had his phone, and we can go home. I told myself that those 15 minutes of panic and running around the store like I was a chicken with its head cut off could take the place of my workout that day.
Even just a few hours later now, I can look back on these incidents and just smile about it, but at the time, I swear that in my mind I cursed everything I could between moments of panic and searching. But really, I was cursing at myself. At how I could be so careless about these things that ultimately would just make my own life miserable. These things that you try so hard to be careful about just creep up on you and make a rainy day even worse. But in the end, I didn’t flush $25 down the toilet because I lost a shoe. The world is good again, and we can go home.
I’m telling myself that there will be many more incidents of these ‘lost’ episodes in the years to come. And I will cross those bridges when I get to them, again. DS is now pretty much over the toy phone, and has moved on to a mini tin Nemo lunch box that I bought from the clearance section of Party City for his birthday party. He goes everywhere with it. And I am very much resisting the temptation of visiting ebay in search of a mini tin Nemo lunch box...
That was a piece of writing that came from a deep frustration that I needed to put into words and share with people that could relate to it. That was the writing that started it all. Even though this seed took over two years to germinate, it eventually sprouted and you are looking at the product right now. The product is my voice, using words, telling stories. It is my outlet, a campfire around which people gather to commune and share. It is my coveted space.
Writing has always been a part of my life. I wrote song lyrics in my native language when I was young. I wrote throughout school, in and out of classes, from high school through graduate school. I want to unearth some other old pieces by digging deep into the vault. And if I ever locate any of it in that dusty, unfinished basement of ours, I may even be able to share the roots of this growth here.
So, Dear Blogging Seed, you were the impetus that started this blog. Even though I can tell that your style is somewhat choppy and unpolished, you were still the blueprint of my voice, the drive behind my writing and sharing, and the desire to connect with others . It is incredibly humbling to revisit you; you really bring back memories of early mommyhood, and reveal my measurable improvement in the practice of writing. Yes, I can look back and laugh about the stories now, but your presence is what allows me to do so. These sorts of memories are what I hope to reread and relive years down the line, from these posts, on this blog.