The Eclectic Dabbler

Last week I found myself once again in the grocery store with two toddlers.

Honestly, it is getting MUCH better! Micah is learning that he has to stay in the shopping cart without fussing (and no, he cannot stand up in the seat!), and Mara rides (or walks beside me) without incident most of the time. In the grocery store parking lot, Mara’s eyes are fixed on the shopping cart selection, hoping against hope that a “little blue car” (with two steering wheels–one for her, one for Micah) will be available.

Well, on this particular day, we did find a cart, but being in the inner-city, someone had removed both steering wheels, rendering the cars, in Mara’s mind, useless.

An elderly man walked by and smiled at the kids. “Are you driving?” he asked cheerfully.

With a doleful expression, Mara shook her head. “Nooo. It doesn’t have a steering wheel.”

Soon enough she cheered up though, when I told her the other option was to ride in a regular shopping cart.

She then began alternately shouting “Prepare to DIE!!!” and loudly singing “YOU are ALWAYS with me, JESUS! Where can I GOOOOOO? Where can I HIIIIIDE?” (from Sovereign Grace’s Awesome God CD).

We made it through my list without incident. Although it was almost noon, so the kids were getting hungrier by the minute.

As I bagged the groceries in the checkout line and tried to watch the cashier ring up each item, Micah kept reaching for everything I put in the back of the shopping cart.

He reached for bananas. He reached for grapes. Ginger snaps.

And suddenly I turned around to see my 16-month-old son sitting there in the shopping cart, holding a pork chop! It happened in just an instant, while my back was turned. Apparently he had reached into the bag behind him, clawed through the cellophane wrap and pulled out the raw meat!

It’s moments like these when you want to grab the raw pork chop out of your son’s hands, look around the store and exclaim, ‘Has anybody seen his mother?!’

People around us were laughing–and, quite frankly, I was surprised how quickly a small child could capture the attention of several checkout lines without making a sound. A Shoprite employee grabbed the meat and offered to re-wrap the remaining portion. Another brought me paper towels doused in hand sanitizer to wipe Micah’s hands.

The cashier said, “I think he’s hungry.”

And as I was leaving, a man a few lines down called out, “Take that boy home and FEED him!”

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As if I didn’t feel sufficiently inept to be a stay-at-home mom after the grocery store episode . . . I dropped the bag holding two dozen eggs on the floor as soon as I got home.

And the casserole that was supposed to bake at 350 for an hour? . . . Somehow it baked at 500 for the first 45 minutes . . . ??

Wow . . . what a day!

You know how cartoons always involve classical music? Well, I had a CD playing, when Mara gasped and announced, “This is Ratatouille!”

“Actually, it’s another Beethoven cello sonata. Can you say ‘cello’?” I asked her.

But she shook her head: “I can’t–I’m eating my dinner. I can’t talk when I’m eating my dinner.”

Wow, that’s never stopped you before.

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Mara recounting our weekend retreat:

“But first we went to Mickle-donalds,” she explained. “There are two Mickle-donalds. [She knows about one in the city, and she knows we stopped at a different McDonalds on the way to the mountains.] And they have drinks and stuff,” she added. “And ice cream . . .”

“And chicken and ranch,” I threw in, since she always calls it ‘chicken and ranch’ at home.

“It’s called ‘chicken nuggets,’” she corrected me.

“Yes, Mara, chicken nuggets.”

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Mara, introducing our family to someone she meets at church: “I’m Mara . . . This is my mommy, Becky. Becky,” she repeated, as if the person might not pronounce it properly. “And this is Micah . . . And this is my husband–Daddy!”

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Mara looking at a bell-shaped cookie cutter: “Oh, look, Mommy, the Liber-ree Bell! We went to the Liber-ree Bell with Aunt Mary!”  (I didn’t think she would remember.)

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Hearing Micah’s cries after another unreasonably short nap, I said, “Oh my goodness, tell me he’s not up yet!”

And Mara obliged. “He’s not up yet,” she said to me.

Then calling to Micah’s room, she shouted, “Micah!–you’re not up yet!”

I only wish it were that simple.

Three little ancedotes:

Lately Mara has asked over and over and over to read her book about going to the dentist. She’s never been to the dentist, but since reading this book, she’s taken a great interest in dentists–and braces.

“See?” she said, through her raisin-filled mouth. “I have braces! See the wires on my teeth?”

I had to post this picture, primarily for my sister, because I remember us as children using random food pieces for pretend braces . . .

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And . . .  you know you’ve gone wrong somewhere, when your daughter holds up her plate at dinner and says, “Look! It’s a picture of my flam-ah-lee!”

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This morning, when I put her in booktime, I told her, “While you’re in book time, Mommy is going to take her shower and read her Bible.”

“You don’t want to do that!” she exclaimed. “You’ll get the pages all wet!”

During lunch, Mara told me she was “putting on makeup.”  . . .

Really?

Ahhhhh! “Mascarrot”!!!!!

Her other carrot apparently was lipstick.

When I told her to eat her carrots, she became sad, and said, “Now the lipstick is broken.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “this time it is broken! But the good thing about carrots is next time you eat them, you will have new lipstick!”

“No,” she said, shaking her head mournfully. “Next time they will just be carrots.”

Oh, the drama . . .

“Mommy!” Mara called from her room. “Jesus is right here! With me! Come and see Him! . . .” She sat smiling smugly on the bed.

“See?” she motioned to the void behind her. “He’s right here.”

Our conversations about Jesus’ presence are becoming more complex. Yes, He is always with us. No, we cannot see Him because He is a spirit.

I pray that God will help her to understand whatever she is capable to understand at this age . . .

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Then. . .  after dinner tonight . . .

“Be quiet now because I’m going to read my Bible,” Mara told me, walking to the couch with her little pink Bible. “I need to read it to Pink Bear.”

So she and Pink Bear sat on the couch, and she opened her Bible.

“When Jesus began, there were lots of things He knew,” she said. “And He wanted you to know, ‘Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.’”

That’s right, Mara. You tell Pink Bear!