Fresh Princess of Walmart!

So, we had just returned to America (in the midst of Covid) and were through our quarantine at home – I mean, after all, we had just traveled halfway across the world in the middle of a pandemic …

It was the month of my mom’s birthday – April 2020 – and we also needed a few supplies at the rental where we were staying.

And, let’s just be a little honest, I wanted out of the house. To explore.

To see the world!

So, we hopped in our borrowed car and drove straight to Walmart!

My encounter there reminds me of fan favorite (and my personal favorite) Fresh Prince …

You remember the theme song?

If you do, you can sing our story …

Now, this is a story all about how

My life got flipped-turned upside down (Thanks, Covid!)

And I’d like to take a minute

To sit right there

I’ll tell you how I returned to a town called Chandler

In west Chandler born and raised (Actually born in Mesa)

On the playground was where I spent most of my days

Chillin’ out maxin’ relaxin’ all cool

And all shootin some b-ball outside of the school (Erie and Knox! AJHS & CHS)

When a couple of shoppers who were up to no good

Started making trouble in my neighborhood —- Walmart that is

I got in one little verbal fight and my husband got scared

He said ‘You’re not allowed’ back in your hood … #chandler

Okay, okay.

You got me. It wasn’t really a verbal fight. Sparring match. Or encounter of physical form at any time —- BUT —- believe me when I say, Walmart Chandler off of the 202 and Arizona Avenue heard from me!

And this is really how my story goes …

My husband (the better half of the Two Makes Crazy) and I were shopping, birthday shopping, Easter shopping, Mother’s Day shopping —- just generally, masked-up, crazed hand sanitized, shopping without littles or a teen in the mystical land full of all sorts of creatures – called Superstore (aka Walmart).

I found my mom the perfect gift. Yes, at Walmart. It couldn’t have been more perfect for my mom – let me explain why.

If you have met my mom, she is sunshine and delight. She is rainbows. And she is unicorns.

She is laughter and encouragement. The world needs more lovelies like her in it.

And her mom – my eldest daughter’s namesake, Marguerite (aka Tootsie), was laughter. She was a pint-sized miniature granny in a bottle.

She lived a full and extremely hard life. She lost big big big (burying 3 of her children, two as infants, and her husband) – and, yet, still managed to laugh well.

And Tootsie, sweet, feisty, amazing, Tootsie had a fan-favorite toy – if you could call it that.

It was a dancing bear that would dance and sing at the push of a button.

And the cackling laughter of a woman that has lived long would fill the room. Her laughter was loud. It was squeaky. It was combined with lots of exclamations.

And it was infectious.

Even if you didn’t think the stupid, dancing bear was funny, it would take you 2.3 seconds to, all of a sudden, find the obnoxious bear amazing. And you would push the dancing singing paw over and over again – simply to hear Tootsie laugh.

So – when I saw IT at Walmart, I just knew.

It beckoned me.

It called my name.

It was shiny.

It was musical.

It was a unicorn.

It danced.

And it sang.

It was the perfect gift for my mom.

And, in the nostalgia of the moment, reliving the past while in the present, I pushed the button of this musical, dancing unicorn in the middle of the aisles of Walmart over and over again.

Best of all – it was the VERY LAST UNICORN on the shelf!

I had won.

Best gift of 2020 was going down with my name on it. And I just knew my mom would laugh – maybe not as loud, long, or hard, as Tootsie – but I knew it would bring joy!

And so I placed it in my cart, turned my back, and began looking for a card and bag to accompany it.

Within 2.5 seconds, there was a whoosh!

Like a flash.

So I turned.

Behind me, in my cart, was nothing.

No unicorn.

No joy.

No dancing.

No singing.

And that’s when the Chandler in me came out and I threw down.

Okay, not literally.

I hollered, very (let’s just leave it at one very and, yet, imagine a very – very – very in there) loudly,

“Oh, COME ON, PEOPLE! DON’T STEAL FROM PEOPLE’S BASKETS! GET REAL!”

With my loud proclamation came, immediately, literally, before I could blink my eyes, a small crowd of curious shoppers.

“What happened?”

“Are you okay?”

And the funniest of all —- “DID SOMEONE STEAL YOUR TOILET PAPER???!!!”

Yes, in the middle of a pandemic, you would think that would be a logical thing to get upset about – so imagine the surprise of the other shoppers when I said, “No, my magical, singing and dancing unicorn.”

Their concern for my cart-thievery did not hold.

After all, they did not care about my unicorn the way I did. Perhaps their toys that would dance and sing were not as memorable as mine.

So, they left.

And my cart remained empty.

But, no! I was not done.

I shouted again.

Let’s just say, the volume was ample.

“Really! A gift for my mom! Get real, people!”

And then I decided to do something kind-of stupid. Something that I would tell my teenager to never do – I went looking for a “Cart War!”

After all, they messed with my cart, I was coming after theirs!

So, I left the aisle I was in. I left my husband. I left my empty cart – and I began the trek around Walmart – eyeing everyone’s carts. Seeing if I could find the sneaky soul.

I know how to confront. I am not afraid of a fight. After all, I have broken up teenage fist fights in my neighborhood in Poland by grabbing their ears, as well as chased away bad men that were beating up a homeless man at a tram stop in Poznan.

I have served murders soup in my home.

And I have released my dog on approaching robbers in the middle of the night.

I have watched my daughter surrounded by machine guns at the Temple Mount.

And I have taken money back from a man because he did not deserve it. Literally – opened up his jacket, reached into his pocket, and took it back.

So there is no way that some lunatic at Walmart (I use that loosely, as I am most likely looking like the lunatic here) was getting away with my unicorn.

Battle on.

Unfortunately …

I mean, fortunately …

My mission was very short lived.

Apparently the cart thief did not think my unicorn worthy of a fight. So they ditched it on a clothing table.

My prize – tossed – haphazardly – in the middle of a pile of messy clothes.

I am sure it had a soft landing.

I picked it up, looked around for guilty faces. Saw none. (Sly thief)

And pushed the hoof.

Sure enough – the song and dance once again filled the store.

And laughter my memories.

Holding onto my unicorn, I found my husband (who did not pursue this unicorn on foot like I did). We made it through the rest of Wally’s World without incident – and the lovely, hard-fought, unicorn…

Well, let’s just say, it made it to my mom.

With a story to boot!

Maybe the unicorn doesn’t make her laugh as loud as Tootsie’s bear. But, with each push of the button, my heart is flooded with memories.

And laughter.

And, now, a new reason to smile.

I was back in my hood.

#conquererofwalmart #freshprincessofchandler

“What soap is to the body, laughter is to the soul.”

Yiddish Proverb

Article explaining the benefits of laughter:

https://www.huffpost.com/entry/laughing-health_b_4519611

Record the delights in your heart

I pulled out a journal that my mom sent me for my 40th birthday the other day.  There is so much for me to write and see and say, and I wanted to begin to record.

But pulling out my journal brought me back to the last several years of my life and marriage.

If you have followed this blog since its inception 3 years ago, you would know that my husband and I have had to work really hard at our marriage.

One point, while we were receiving professional help, my husband was journaling.  It was a good thing.  Yet is was a VERY depressing thing.

While it was both cathartic and healing—it was just SO SAD!

And every time I read it, it was hard to read.

Hard times in life are hard.  And we need to share them with someone we trust—but that doesn’t make it easy.

So when I pulled out my journal…during a hard day of just being me, being mommy, being wife, I decided to do something different.

I decided that I was going to write about the joys of my day.  And while my children sat screaming and crying and throwing fits, I remembered that ONE moment of the day where they were pure joy—

And I wrote that.

And I giggled while I wrote.

And I shared with my husband what I wrote.

And we smiled.

Through the tears, through the difficulties, through the hard—we smiled…because, really, there was something to smile about.

Take for example, my family photo above.  My 2-year-old delight (sarcasm inserted here) cried and pouted and shouted throughout our entire photo session.  She was tired.  She was sleeping.  And she is two.  TWO.  That, in itself, is an answer for everything 😉

She did not want to smile for any photo.  It was impossible.  And as much as we tried, we just could not get that ideal and dreamy family photo that I had envisioned on the drive to the palace gardens where we were taking photos.

So we had to come to the conclusion to either leave her out of photos or just go with the flow.

And we did both.

When she wasn’t in the photos, we clicked magnificence.

When she was, we just had so much fun with her two year old pouty expressions…capturing not perfection but real life.

At the end of the day, when the gardens were about to be locked up, we wandered to the exit and just let the children run and play.  After all, they could get dirty now that mom had what she wanted.  That is when the sun actually came out.

No, dusk was on the horizon, but our 2-year-old Josephine ran and played and laughed and smiled.

And that is when my husband took back out the camera that he had already packed away and started to shoot.

And that’s when we saw her smile.

You know…It’s good to record life.  The ups and downs and all arounds.

But sometimes we especially need to record the joys—because they remind us to smile!

 

 

 

Adelyne. That word says it all.

Adelyne:  Proper Noun:  A very well loved little girl often the subject of lavish attention, lots of hugs, and years of being the sole receiver of her parents’ concentration (aka: only child)

For Adelyne’s 5th birthday, when it was time for cake, she insisted on being carried in to her party.  On the arms of her daddy and uncle.  As if she was entering on a royal coach.  And she even held out her fingers as if to say, “Royalty is here!  Greet me now.”

She was loved.  She was played with.  She was well taken care of.

Our only child.  All attention lavished upon her.

And so, today, I looked at this beautiful gift of ours and asked, “Adelyne (now 8), do you remember being an only child?”

She replied, “Yes.  I was an only child forever.”

“What do you remember most about it?”

“I remember Nana took me to the Zoo the day Max was born.  And then we got to stop by McDonald’s on the way home so that I could hold him.”

In those two sentences she summed up, for me, her life.

My beautiful and precious only child began to truly live once Maxwell entered it.

He is her most beloved.  Her best friend.  Her precious treasure.

Memories will exist through photos.  And maybe one day she’ll refer to her 6 and 1/2 years of being an only child as “The Good Ol’ Days”.  But perhaps not.

Perhaps her “Good Ol’ Days” did not truly begin until her brother entered them.

And that’s a-okay.

Adelyne, in and of itself, is a miraculous and beautiful word.  But Adelyne and Maxwell—to me, is the epitome of perfection.