So today I decided to go shopping. I mean, I was already planning on meeting a girl to buy a woven wrap at 1pm, so I would already be out. Perfect excuse to run by a store before I met her!
The day dawned perfectly. The baby slept in, so I was able to (gasp) eat by myself, shower by myself and even linger a bit over my wardrobe choices all without being cried on, spit up on, or otherwise jugging a small human. I was in great spirits.
|post shopping nap with the new wrap|
Well, I have the kind of baby that only cries in the car if its not moving. As long as the car is going somewhere, he's happy as a a fish in the sea. But as soon as I stop, it's like the world has ended. The store I wanted to go to was only 10 minutes away. And, it's right by Target--score! I could also pick up that hamper I'd been wanting to buy to put all the toys Reuben has accumulated but can't actually play with yet--because, you know, he's an infant. Seriously, so many toys.
And I'm almost there when I see a line of cars that is not moving. What? Is it a wreck? I am forced to slow to a crawl, coasting. But it's true--all the cars are stopped.
I spent the next 15 minutes in a dead stop with a screaming baby unable to pull over or go anywhere because of roadwork. Roadwork, people.
But I made it to the store. I nursed Reuben and calmed him down (He was fine) before I put him in my ring sling and grabbed my credit card and keys and headed into Maurices. Right as I walked in Reuben spit up all down my shirt and all over my (his?) sling.
I hid in a corner and tried to clean myself. I thought about leaving. But I'd come all this way darn it and I was going to find myself something cute to wear for fall. I had a credit card and a desire to clothe my postpartum body, and no one, not even a happy spitty baby was going to stop me.
So I shopped. I tried things on, twice, each time removing all my clothes and watching a cute baby. I found a few items I liked.
I went to pay.
My credit card was declined.
At that point I was ready to cry.
She tried it twice. It didn't work. Had my husband given me the wrong card? Nope, it had my name on it. It said it was good until a few years from now. What. The. Fudgecicle.
Reuben picked that point to start fussing. I calmly excused myself and asked her to hold my things until tomorrow. I hid in my car nursing my sweaty baby and called my credit card company. They tried to ask me a few questions to authenticate my identity. Of course they were questions I had no clue about because my husband set them up. I told them I would have to call them back after I called my husband.
Calling my husband when he is at work is an adventure in and of itself. He regularly is in meetings and can't answer and I'm really only supposed to call if it's an emergency. Not being able to purchase two pairs of pants, a sweater and two long sleeve shirts is probably not on his radar for an emergency, but whatever. I was pissed off enough to not care. I called him.
He wasn't in a meeting and he gave me all the information I needed, and then I called my credit cart company back, proved (finally) that I was who I said I was--only to be told that card was old and I'd received a new one awhile ago. Where it is, I don't know. Probably in my husband's wallet, but I am not going to call him again, mostly because if it is in his wallet I am not going to go get it, and if it's not then who knows where it is. He told me it hadn't been activated yet even, so yeah.
I met the girl from facebook to buy my wrap (I used cash, but yeah, I didn't have my debit card or cash to pay for my clothes...that was why I'd taken the credit card!!) and then took myself home where I tore up the house searching for my lost card.
It's now 2 pm, and my sweaty baby is now asleep and also not sweaty anymore, because we are inside. I'm exhausted and tired and my morning is gone. I drug him everywhere today for apparently no reason and just thinking about it makes me want to cry all over again.
That was my morning. How was yours?
I'm still wearing his spit up. Isn't motherhood grand.